I nod, looking at him, still breathing shallowly. He lets go of my chin and wraps me in his arms, pulling me close to him, and we just sit there for a little while.
A few minutes later, he speaks with a gentle voice. “Will you be okay for a few minutes if I go clean up? Or I can help you downstairs. Do you think a shower might help you feel better?” he asks.
“Yeah, I’ll, um. I’ll go shower and brush my teeth. Um… Thanks, Sam.”
I’m a little wobbly as I follow him down the ladder to the main floor, but he stays close behind me, which helps. After he ducks into the bathroom to clean up the trash can, which I try not to think about, he turns on the shower, letting the water warm up for me. After he shuts the door behind him and I’m alone with my thoughts, I allow myself a few minutes to sob quietly as the hot water cascades over me. I try to imagine the water cleansing me of all the horrible memories, but I know the nightmares will return. I’m grateful they don’t happen as often now, but it doesn’t make them easier to deal with. I feel a little better after I let some of it out, and then I take my time to wash myself, trying to concentrate only on the physical sensations. When I shut off the water, I see that Sam has sneaked into the bathroom and set a fresh towel and clean sweatpants and a T-shirt on the counter for me. I almost get choked up again. I don’t care what he says, there’s no way I’ll ever be able to repay the kindness he’s showing me. I’m so broken, and he doesn’t even seem to notice.
I dry off and get dressed quickly, brush my teeth thoroughly, and hang the towel up neatly on the rack before exiting the bathroom. When I climb back up to the loft, he’s there, just finishing making the bed. He’s changed the sheets, and there’s a glass of water and one of ginger ale sitting on the nightstand. I fight to swallow the lump in my throat.
He pulls back the blankets for me and waves me into bed. “Here you are, good sir,” he says in a ridiculously over-the-top British accent and shooting me a grin. I climb in under the covers, and he shushes me when I try to speak. He makes me lie down and makes a big show of fluffing up my pillows and tucking the sheets in around me so I’m in a cocoon of soft, warm cotton. When he’s finally done, he leans over me, one arm on either side of my waist.
“Are you okay?” he asks, concern written all over his face. He reaches out and tenderly caresses my cheek, and the sweet gesture feels oddly natural.
“I’m alright,” I answer, but before I can think about what I’m doing, I’ve grabbed onto his arm. “Would you… Um… Would you stay? With me? For a bit?”
CHAPTER 20
SAM
My heart squeezes in my chest. “Of course. I’ll stay as long as you need.” I move quickly to slide into bed beside him and pull him close so he’s cuddled into my chest, wrapping my arms around him. He needs comfort right now, and my desire to give him what he needs is stronger than anything else.
“Will it help to talk about it?” I ask. “It’s okay if it doesn’t, but I’ll listen if it helps you.” I’m no veteran, but I do know that throwing your shit into a closet and slamming the door shut, hoping it doesn’t spill out and make a mess, isn’t a great long-term coping strategy.
Tyler bites down on his lip before letting out a sigh. “Yeah. Sometimes it helps. But it sometimes makes the nightmares worse for a few days before they slow down again.”
“You can share whatever you want or nothing at all. I just want you to know I’m here for you. No matter what.”
The last thing I want to do is pressure him, but if I can help him, I’ll do anything, and I want him to know that. My need to take care of and protect Tyler isn’t like anything I’ve ever felt, but it feels so right and so natural. It sounds ridiculous, but it feels like caring for him is something I’m meant to do.
Some of the tension drains from his body, and I love the way his muscles soften as he allows himself to melt into me. His head is resting on my chest, so I dip my chin to place a kiss on top of it.
“So, I left for boot camp like four days after high school graduation,” he starts. “I made it through that, and even though it sucked balls, I mostly felt like I fit in with the other guys, which was a new feeling.” He huffs a laugh. “I found out pretty quick after boot camp I was getting deployed. It was going to be a fifteen-month deployment. I was living on base at the time, and we all partied hard before we shipped out. I think that was the closest I had to a college experience.” He laughs wryly.
“On the day we left, I was kind of glad I didn’t have any family there to say goodbye to. I would have been more afraid, I think. The guys that did have family there had a way harder time.” Tyler snorts. “Perks of having a shitty family: not having to take part in all the overwrought goodbyes and tears and shit.”
I tighten my arms around him, my heart breaking at the thought of Tyler as a skinny eighteen-year-old kid about to leave for a foreign country, possibly to be killed, and no one even showed up to say goodbye.
He continues. “I remember the first guy who was KIA from my platoon. His name was Joey. We’d been there a few months, maybe five or six months or so, and we were going to meet with some locals in the nearest village. It was something we did all the time, about as routine as those things could get. But we got partway to the village, and there was a group of fucking goats or something standing in the road. Danny, our driver, stopped and honked at them, trying to get them to move out of our way, but these stupid animals just stood there looking at us. So Joey says, ‘I’ll go move ’em,’ and he opens the door of the Humvee and gets out to shoo these things off the road, and then he just drops to the ground. Shot by a fucking sniper.”
I suck in a breath. Tyler’s voice is flat, like he’s disconnected from the words coming out of his mouth.
“I don’t remember much after I saw him go down. I know the shit hit the fan. Total chaos. We got him back into the vehicle, and we were able to take out the sniper who killed him but obviously too late. I don’t think it sank in at all for me until we got back to our base that night and Joey wasn’t there. He was one of the few guys I’d really liked. He had this stupid sense of humor, you know?” There’s a smile in Tyler’s voice as he talks about his friend. “He would tell these ridiculous jokes, and most of the guys would just groan, but I always thought he was kind of funny. He was sweet, even though he was a fucking giant, even bigger than Mason. Complete badass with this dad’s sense of humor. He was just an awesome dude.”
“I’m sorry that happened to him. And to you.” I place another kiss against his temple. I don’t even know if he can hear my whisper with his hearing aids. But I need to say it anyway, and I try to show him with my touch how much he’s affecting me.
“We had this, like, memorial service for him, and I wanted to cry, but I felt like there was no way I could. I mean, a couple of guys did, but I was one of the younger, smaller guys, and I just felt like I couldn’t.” He takes a shaky breath.
I stay quiet, and Tyler’s heart races, thudding against my chest like a runaway freight train while outwardly, he seems completely calm. He’s like a duck who looks completely placid as he moves across the water, while his legs move frantically beneath the surface.
“I got hurt a few months after we lost Joey. But, fuck, it feels like forever, you know?” He shakes his head. That day, I was out on patrol, and we were supposed to be searching for this well-known warlord guy. We were told he was a ‘high-value target.’ I think they suspected he was responsible for attacking a couple of convoys a few months earlier.” He swallows. “So, we get to this house where they’re supposed to be, and they’re fucking gone. But we go in, and it’s obvious they’d just been there and left in a big hurry, which means they probably got tipped off by a local. They can’t have gone too far, so my platoon leader is all excited about maybe being able to catch this guy. He’s talking to me about our plan, and as we’re just getting back to the vehicles, he steps on a pressure plate. It blew him up, blew the closest Humvee apart, and I have no idea why it didn’t blow me into a million pieces.”
“Oh my god,” I whisper softly. I hadn’t realized Tyler had been so close to the explosion. He could have so easily been killed.
“You know, we were always watching, searching for signs of IEDs. Always trying to detect any slight difference in the way the sand or the dirt was lying on any road or any other little signs. Always, always on alert, on edge. But neither of us saw the signs of that one. I don’t know why.”
I squeeze him tightly to my chest, just as much for my own comfort as for his.
“I didn’t know what happened at first. All of a sudden, everything around me goes gray and brown—the whole world is just dirt. I don’t remember hitting the ground. It’s like one second, I’m walking along, and the next second, I’m on my back, looking up at the sky through this dirty haze. I can’t breathe, so I’m coughing and trying to get a breath, but it’s like there’s no more air—it’s just sludge surrounding me. Not being able to catch my breath is one of the most vivid memories. That’s what most of my nightmares are. It’s like I’m drowning but not in water. I’m drowning in dirt.” He shudders and reaches out to grab the water glass off the bedside table. Once he takes a couple of sips, I take it and put it back for him before placing my arm around him again and stroking up and down his spine, trying to ground both of us with the physical sensation of touch.
