Page 33 of The Moment He Couldn’t Walk Away

He shook out some pills and downed a couple. Then he pulled his sunglasses out of the neck of his shirt and slid them on.

“Headache?” Lynx said from behind him.

Finch sighed, the anger leaving as quickly as it had come. “They come on suddenly, along with the vision problems, anxiety, anger, and depression.”

“I’m sorry this happened to you, Finch, but we can’t change it, so we have to work out how you’re going to deal with it, and I want to help you with that, as do the family.”

He looked at the man he’d known his entire life. Lynx had been his best friend growing up and possibly still was. The worry was there, etched in the lines of his face, as it was with his parents and sisters.

“Sit,” Lynx said, waving him to the sofa. “What else can I get you?”

“Nothing. The pills will work eventually.”

“What aftereffects are you still suffering with?”

“The headaches are the worst part, but they’re easing,” Finch conceded. He knew his brother was right. He needed to talk to someone or go crazy. The problem was, he’d always dealt with his issues on his own.

Leaving home at eighteen had made him independent, but that had suddenly been ripped away overnight. He’d had to rely on the doctors and medical staff and then on his family when he came home to live on their property.

“I get some light sensitivity, and my moods can be erratic.”

“So, like Blue Jay, then?” Lynx said, which make Finch snort.

“My vision can go blurry too. Plus I get ringing in my ears. But I’m doing some building for Klaus and coping with that, which is a positive in a sea of negatives.”

“Welcome to my world—I get that after a concert. And we’ll get back to the building, and you calling Mr. Becker ‘Klaus’ later.”

“Yeah, all that loud noise can’t be healthy for you,” Finch said.

“Have the doctors said if these things will be long term?”

And that was his biggest worry. They didn’t know for sure, but the symptoms definitely could be long-lasting.

“Some may,” he conceded.

“Okay, well, let’s hope that’s not the case. Can you exercise?”

“Some, and slowly, but it’s getting easier.”

“That’s gotta be hard on someone like you.”

It was hard, because when life got difficult, he used to exercise. It gave him clarity.

“The military wasn’t just a job for me, Lynx. It was my existence and made up my personality. Rank, unit, my role, and the daily structure—all of it was gone overnight.”

He thought back to what he’d gone through after it happened. The initial disbelief and eventual understanding that his military career was over.

“I keep asking myself, who am I if I’m not a soldier? And the answer is the same as it was then: I don’t know. I never had a Plan B.”

“I wish you could sing. I’d take you on the road. We need a new front man.”

He wasn’t sure why now, but suddenly he was laughing, and hell, it felt good, and that was something else he hadn’t experienced much lately.

Chapter 10

“You have to jump up here if you want the milk, Mabel. We go through this every day.”

Finch leaned sideways, peeking around the wall he’d erected, to check who was at the drive-through window. Klaus was leaning out, staring down at a cat. It was small, and, he guessed by the look of it, Siamese, but he was no feline expert. He set down his level and rubbed at the small of his back, where a dull ache had taken up permanent residence from all the bending.