Beautifully Broken: If You Leave Part 37

And my ear is instantly filled with Jacey's screaming.

Gabriel

Screams fill my ears once again, just like they do whenever I remember that f.u.c.king night. I stare at the paper in front of me.

So if everything was your fault, how could you have stopped it? Let's work through this. Write down on that piece of paper every single thing you could have done to prevent Ara Sahar and Mad Dog's deaths... or the deaths of the girls and women in the village. Because the way I see it, there was never a way to save them. Try and prove me wrong.

The blank whiteness of the paper mocks me, as my pen lingers motionless above it. I listen to the tick of the clock and I stare at my shoes. Finally I scribble out an answer.

I f.u.c.king hate this s.h.i.+t. The therapist is just going to tear my answers apart in the morning.

A soft rap on the door interrupts my homework, thankfully. I answer it to find the army nurse.

"Hey, soldier," she greets me with a grin, as she tosses me a cold soda. "How was your session?"

I practically growl a response as I drop back onto the bed, cracking the soda open and taking a gulp. "I hate this s.h.i.+t."

Annie perches in the chair, her combat boots s.h.i.+ned to a perfect gleam.

"I know," she answers sympathetically. "You're going to hate it the whole time. But I've gotta tell you. It does help. All the questions they ask actually have a purpose. They get us thinking in ways we didn't before. I'm still having the nightmares, but they don't last all night long. I'm still jumpy, but I don't look over my shoulder as much. We might actually do this, soldier."

"I'm not a soldier anymore," I tell her as I scribble another answer onto the work sheet. She rolls her eyes.

"You know as well as I do that you'll always be a soldier. It's in your blood."

And it is.

It feels good to sit and talk with someone who gets that. Brand gets it, but we don't talk about it. Men just don't.

Annie glances at me. "Do you ever miss it?"

It's my turn to roll my eyes now. "What do you think?"

She grins. "I'd miss it like h.e.l.l. When I first came back, my parents begged me to resign my commission, to come out into civilian life and be 'normal.' As if that was going to happen. I'm a soldier. I'll always be a soldier. I can't imagine turning in my boots."

It's like a sucker punch because I did turn in my boots.

"Everyone has to do what is best for them," I finally answer. "I had to resign because that was best for me and best for my squad."

Annie nods understandingly and I know that she does, in fact, understand. She can't possibly know what it was like to be a Ranger or to resign from the job that I dreamed my entire life of having, but she knows what it's like to be a soldier to the bone.

That kind of understanding makes it easy to relate to her. And easy for her to relate to me. She glances up at me, her hands fidgeting in her lap.

"I want to thank you again for being here," she finally says. "Not only so that I can thank you again for what you did for me, but you've reminded me of a couple things. Important things."

I raise an eyebrow. "Such as?"

Annie gets up from her chair and drops down next to me on the bed, something that puts me instantly at unease. What the f.u.c.k?

"You've reminded me that there are strong guys out there who know what the f.u.c.k I'm going through because you're going through it too," she says softly.

As she speaks, she slides her hand softly onto my arm. I freeze as I realize what is happening.

"I've also decided that everything happens for a reason," she continues. "What are the odds that you would be there that day in the squad that rescued me and you would be here when I come to get help?" She pauses for a brief second. "The odds are slim to none, Gabe. I think I was meant to meet you. I really do. The question is... what are we going to do about it?"

Before I can think about what she's doing, she's leaned into me, pressing her lips softly to mine.

I am utterly frozen as she kisses me. I didn't see this coming, I truly didn't. I thought we were just commiserating about our issues.

Her hands come up and clutch my back and for a moment, one moment, I think about it. It would be so easy to slip away into that vague place where s.e.x takes me, to that place where nothing matters anymore. It would be the easiest thing in the world. And I need someone. I need to be comforted by someone.

But she's not the person I need.

I've already tried this road with Alex and it didn't work.

I don't want anyone else.

I grip Annie's upper arms gently and push her away, looking into her eyes.

"Annie, you don't want to do this," I tell her firmly. "You don't. You're emotional because of this place. It's OK, I'm sure it happens to everyone."

She scowls at me, then she reaches for me again.

"No, it's not this place. It's you, Gabe. I just want you. You make me remember what I like about the world. You make everything make sense."

After knowing me for a few days? I look at her questioningly as I hold her at arm's length.

"Annie, think about what you're saying. I can see where you would think that we have a connection because we both have the same s.h.i.+t going on. But think about that...we have the same s.h.i.+t going on. We'd be a train wreck. We each need someone outside of this mess, someone who can keep things in perspective for us... someone to give us a reason to pull out of this. I heard you telling one of your other friends about your boyfriend at lunch the other day. You need to tell him everything that you've told me."

Annie starts crying now, big fat tears that roll down her cheeks in black streaks from her makeup. f.u.c.k. I hate this s.h.i.+t. I never know what to do. I awkwardly pat at her back.

"Annie, don't cry. Everything's fine. It's fine. This is just a misunderstanding."

She continues to cry, then reaches for me, burying her head into my chest.

"I'm sorry," she sniffs. "I'm sorry that I misunderstood and wrecked everything. I'm sorry."

I pat at her again. "You didn't wreck anything, Annie. It's a misunderstanding. Our emotions are all jacked up in here. You don't have anything to apologize for."

She nods and sniffs and slips from the bed to the door.

"I'm sorry, Gabe," she sniffles again before she leaves.

I am still shaking my head as I watch her go.

What the f.u.c.k was that?

As I calm down and gather my thoughts, I realize that as uncomfortable as that situation was, it did one thing for me.

Because when Annie looked at me, accepting all my flaws, overlooking them because she wanted to sleep with me, it made me realize why I've sought out women ever since the incident.

Their acceptance comforts me.

But it's momentary.

Temporary.

For just a minute it soothes my guilt. I slip into oblivion, into a place where I'm not judged. They accept me for what I am. That's why I sought out the prost.i.tute in Kabul, that's why I almost slept with Alex.

But I can't do this anymore. I've accepted what I did to Ara Sahar. I've accepted why I did it. And because of that, I don't need to seek out a subst.i.tute for that acceptance anymore.

I need the real thing.

Something permanent.

That's huge.

Stunned, I sit with my shoulders slumped, my hands in my lap, just thinking about it. I tried to sleep with Maddy for the very same reason I slept with everyone else. But I fell in love with her instead.

And now she's all I want.

I pick up the phone.

Chapter Twenty-Seven.

Madison

Another call beeps in as I try to figure out what Jacey is screaming about, but I don't even look. All I can do is try to make sense of what she's saying.

"Jacey, slow down. I can't understand you," I tell her quickly. "Take a breath."

"OhmyG.o.dMadison," she shrieks. "OhmyG.o.d... ohmyG.o.d."

She's frantic and she won't listen and it turns my hand clammy as I grip the phone.

"What is it?" I finally yell. "Jacey, what is going on?"

"It's Tony," she finally manages to say. "Jesus Christ. Maddy, you've got to come. We're at that curve on your street. The one... the nasty one."

The one where my parents died. My heart stops.

"Hurry up," Jacey wails. "Just get here."

I hear a siren, then I hear nothing.

I can't even feel my fingers or think as I grab my purse and rush out the door. I don't notice the drive. I don't register the red lights or stop signs or anything else. I'm on autopilot as I drive, as I distance myself from my heart so I don't feel so much of what is going on.

It's nothing bad, I tell myself as I get closer. It's nothing bad. He has a flat tire. He had a fender bender. He slid off the edge just like I did a few weeks ago. It's nothing bad. He's fine.

He's fine.

He's fine.

He has to be fine.

Nothing can be wrong with Tony, because he has to be fine. He holds my life together. He holds my family together and he holds the Hill together. He picks up my slack. He picked up my father's slack for years. He became my father, in a way.

He's fine.

But he's not.

He's not fine. I know it before I get there. I know it from the dead feeling in my heart. I know it as I pull up and see his truck, crumpled on the side of the road. I know it when I see the ambulance and the fire trucks and the grave looks on everyone's faces. I know it when I see the stretcher, with the still form on it, covered up with a sheet. I know it when I see the tip of his boot sticking out from under the sheet.

He's not fine.

And I'm not either.

My legs give out and I crumple to the ground. As I go down, I take in the rest of the scene. I see Jared in handcuffs, I see Jacey's tear-streaked face rus.h.i.+ng for me. I see EMTs lunging toward me.

And then I don't see anything at all.

Gabriel