Страница 8 из 48
“This has been one of the most unexpected nights I’ve had in a long time and frankly I’m exhausted.” She bit her bottom lip as he dropped her other hand and backed toward the sitting area, where his boots sat.
“I’ll go then. Let you get some sleep.” When he turned, a surge of panic rose up in her chest and she reached out for him again, her fingers curving around his thick, corded forearm. He stopped short and glanced over his shoulder. “Yeah?”
“Stay.” One single word, one single plea. Probably a mistake, but one that felt very, very right.
“I won’t sleep with you, Je
“I’m not asking you to,” she whispered.
He tipped his head to the side, a sad, understanding smile on his face.
Then he reached behind his head and tugged off his shirt.
Chapter Four
Three weeks later...
“This is a waste of time.” Brody leaned back in the chair, arms crossed over his chest. The beady-eyed shrink took up a similar stance and Brody settled in for the long haul, staring back. This guy definitely wasn’t a Marine or he’d know better to think this was a game he’d ever win.
“That’s a matter of perspective, Corporal Nelson.” Dr. Sherman, whom Jeffords had personally introduced him to, spoke easily, if not kindly. “All I ask if that you keep an open mind and this process will go a lot smoother than you’re anticipating.”
“How the hell do you know what I’m anticipating?” Brody’s bark of defiant laughter echoed off the walls of the training complex. He should’ve been drilling with his battalion, but the Commander’s orders had been crystal clear—go to counseling or go home.
“You’re not the first Marine I’ve come here to speak with. You’re also not the first to sit in that chair and get angry because you’re not out in the field.” Sherman steepled his fingers in front of his chest and gave his leather chair a little bounce, apparently just as content as Brody to ride this out for as long as it took. “But there’s more to being a Marine than a steadfast work ethic, Corporal.”
No shit, but this flowery, let’s-talk-about-our-feelings crap sure as hell wasn’t part of it.
“Look, Doc, I get that I’ve got some shit to deal with, but I’m perfectly capable of doing it my own way. On my own time.” Maybe tipping back endless bottles of booze wasn’t the best approach, but it said something that he recognized it was a problem, didn’t it?
“Your last deployment ended almost a year ago.”
And that was supposed to be fucking news? Brody rolled his eyes. “And I’ve survived just fine all this time. I haven’t gone off the deep end. I haven’t flipped out because someone’s muffler backfired in my ear. I haven’t walked down the middle of Omaha with a rifle strapped to my back.” He lifted his hands and leveled with the doctor. “I don’t even think about that shit, therefore I don’t have a problem.”
“Did you attend Corporal Martin’s funeral, Brody?”
Brody now, huh? Wasn’t that special? Like they were fucking friends or some shit. “Of course, I did. I gave his mother the flag.” But he hadn’t looked Ernie Sr. in the eye. Couldn’t.
“Are you sleeping okay? Getting through most of the night without waking?”
Brody glanced out the window of the Reserve training complex. Snow floated through the air, light as a feather, a peaceful, calming sight against the dry, brown backdrop of Omaha in mid-January. His memory flashed back to New Years Day, when he’d woken up in Je
“I’m sleeping fine,” he muttered, clenching his jaw to ward off the yawn building in the back of this throat.
“How’s work? I see you’re a utility lineman by day.”
“What does that my job have to do with Ernie and Troy?”
Dr. Sherman lifted a hand. “I’m just trying to get to know you better, Corporal.”
“Is that right? Well, you’ll be disappointed to know that work’s fine, my social life is fine, I’m fine. Hell, I even led a completely normal childhood. No juvenile record. No trouble at school. Not even a speeding ticket. I have plants, too. Imagine that shit.”
The older man smiled. “You went to college on a full scholarship for baseball, is that right?”
Brody grunted. “I see what you’re doing here, Doc.”
The man up-palmed his hands once again, a light-hearted gesture that was probably supposed to ease Brody’s skepticism. Instead it pissed him off. There was nothing easy about sitting across from someone you didn’t know, fully aware that every word that came out of your mouth would be analyzed. Dissected. Made out to be a damn lot more than it really was.
“You know what? I think I’ve had just about enough for today.” He rose and the legs of the metal chair scraped across the concrete floor.
“I can’t force you to like this, Corporal, but I can assure you that my door is always open. If not here, then my office at the VA center.”
Jaw pulsing, he nodded from the door and made his escape. The air in the corridor of the training facility was thick and muggy despite the winter season. He couldn’t seem to get it into his lungs as quickly as he needed it. Why the fuck was this so hard? He knew what he needed to do in order to make Jeffords and company happy. Just cooperate and cut open a vein—even if just a knick—for the beady eyed bastard back in that office and all would be well. He’d be back on track for deployment and back to what he knew best—kicking ass.
“You’re done already?” Sam glanced up from the back of the truck, where he prepped netting for the new recruit training obstacle.
“Yep, seeing as there ain’t a damn thing wrong with me,” Brody barked, grabbing eyehooks and fastening them on. How the hell could the Corps question his capability? How? He could do this shit with his eyes closed and walking backwards.
“I don’t like to talk about it either, but if you wanted to, I’d do it. You know, informally,” his buddy offered beneath his breath, and Brody appreciated the gesture. But, honestly, it a
Je
***
“Je
“I’m not doting—I’m helping.” Je
Helen stabbed the straw through the foil on top of the apple juice, her lip turned up like Elvis. “I had a heart attack—I didn’t die.”
“You had a heart attack and a stroke. And you coded on the operating table.”
Her mother waved a dismissive hand, the fine bones in her fingers more delicate than ever. Since the incident two months ago, her mother’s body had become so frail and thin, so old for her sixty-one years. But, as worrisome as that was, Helen’s perpetual pain in the ass demeanor kept Je