Chapter 14
Jace
I stand in the middle of Rebels Advocate right next to the punching bag, staring around in confusion. How the fuck did I get here and why the hell are my knuckles red raw?
It fucking happened again.
One minute, I was sitting in my office, going over the session plan for the afternoon self-defense class, the next, it’s like I open my eyes and I’m suddenly standing before a swinging punching bag with my knuckles bloodied and sore.
I rub my head as the usual headache instantly comes on and I start looking around, hoping there’s no damage or bodies lying about. From what I can see, it all looks good and it’s not like I can hear any sirens in the distance. The only thing off is the way Luke, Cole, and Caden are watching me with worried, curious eyes.
They know something’s up. They always have and it’s been put down as my personal demons from being at war, so they just let it go. Little do they know that my demons are a lot worse than they could possibly know.
I have no idea how long I was out this time, but it’s usually never more than a few minutes. So, I probably look like a fool storming through the gym and slamming my fists into the punching bag for all of thirty seconds before acting like a confused dickhead.
I take a few slow breaths and wrap my arms around the punching bag so I can use it to lean against while I try my best to clear my head. I mean, this shit is fucked up.
Cami is right, I need to get this under control. But how? I don’t know a damn thing about what doctor does which thing, let alone finding a good one. This fucking blows. I’d give anything to not be dealing with this problem at all and I’d give anything to be able to go back three years ago and not lay a finger on my father.
I let out a sigh and push off the punching bag before walking to my office. I drop down into my desk chair and grab my water bottle before drinking the whole thing in one go. I must have really given it to the punching bag, though, not as good as I gave it to Cami after the wedding.
That was fucking magical. The moment is still engrained in my mind and it was nearly three weeks ago.
I haven’t seen her since and I keep holding onto this hope that she’s going to walk through the doors and show up for the self-defense class that she loves, but who am I kidding? I hurt her. I left again and I won’t return until I get this whole blacking out thing sorted.
She told me it was about time that I forgave myself for what happened with dad, and she’s right. I’ve been working on it, but I don’t know how. She would have the answers I need, she always does, but I’m not about to go storming back into her life until I know I’m good. I’ll never hurt her again.
It’s kind of a sick game and I shouldn’t be playing it at all. I’m giving myself hope that things could be different, that I could get better, but what if I don’t? Maybe I’m just destined to spend the rest of my life fucking around. Maybe I’m supposed to be the guy who never settles down and never gets to have kids. Maybe I’m always going to be the fun uncle Jace.
Just like Cami, always the bridesmaid, never the bride.
I worry that she’ll refuse to open her heart again. I’ve done a number on her and I hope she’s strong enough to move past it, though that is assuming I continue to fuck everything up. It would be my luck that she finds the right man just as I get my shit together.
I feel like Cami and I are always so close, but so damn far away. Cami is always the one pushing for more and I’m always there pulling away, right when it comes to the crunch. We’d be so good together, there’s no doubt about it. It would be easy and carefree all the damn time, but I just can’t get past this fucked up fear that I’m going to hurt her.
All I know right now is that I miss her like crazy. I feel like a bastard after walking out of her door, but we both knew that was the deal when it happened. It doesn’t change how bad it hurts though.
I want to reach out to her to make sure she’s doing alright, but I don’t want to see her again until I’m certain I won’t have to walk away again.
My thoughts are put to rest when a knock at the door has me looking up. I find Luke standing in my doorway, looking at me as though I’ve lost my mind. “You all good, man?” he questions.
I cringe, trying to think of how the hell I can explain what the fuck just happened when I decide to skip over the whole thing. “Yeah, all good,” I say as though not a damn thing had gone down.
“Right,” he says slowly, not believing me for one second. “You know, if something’s going on, I’m here.”
“I know,” I say, looking away as I can’t handle the probing look in his eyes. I push myself up out of my desk chair and grab my phone and keys out of the top drawer. “I think I need to get out of here for a bit.”
“Are you sure? We have the self-defense class at five and the group weight training after that,” he reminds me.
I look down at my watch. It’s only two in the afternoon so I should be alright. “I’ll be back in time,” I tell him. “I just need to head out for a bit.”
He nods his head with understanding, but his understanding is misguided. He believes my issues are with Cami right now, and yes, some of them are, but he will never know what’s truly bothering me. I couldn’t possibly confess to him just how weak I’ve been. “Alright, man,” she says with his eyes focused hard on me as though he’s trying to figure out some sort of puzzle. “I’ll see you in a bit.”
We both walk out into the main part of the gym. Luke heads off towards a few kids who are gathering around the punching bags just looking at them rather than belting their fists into them while I head straight for the door.
I give both Caden and Cole a nod on my way out, letting them know I’m all good before pushing out the door and sucking in a deep breath of fresh air. Fuck, that’s better, but it doesn’t take away from the need I have to get the fuck out of here.
I get straight into my truck and gun it down the road before pulling up in my driveway fifteen minutes later. I walk straight through the door and collapse down onto the couch.
My phone starts going apeshit in my pocket and I pull it out, thankful for the distraction from my inner monologue of torturous thoughts. “Hey, what’s going on?” Jessie questions as reach for a cushion and jam it under my head. “How’s Isabella?”
“She’s fine,” Jessie says before launching into a spiel about every tiny thing that Isabella has done today. “What’s going on with you?” Jess asks when she’s done. “I haven’t heard from you in a few weeks.”
“Nothing,” I say, desperately wanting to avoid the topic of me, as out of all the people I know, she’s the one who can read me like a fucking map. I fucking love this woman more than life itself, but goddamn, she’s annoying at times.
She was the person I leaned on after I got home from Iraq. She basically moved into my house so she could help me to heal. I swear anything I could have possibly needed was taken care of by Jessie. She was an absolute rockstar.
Jessie’s silent for a while before she lets out a knowing sigh. “It happened again, didn’t it?” she questions.
“No,” I rush out as I scramble for something else to talk about.
“Liar,” she grunts. “What happened this time?”
“Nothing. Shut up,” I tell her.
“Spill it, buster, or I’m telling mom and dad that you were the one who ruined the good dining set.”
My eyes widen. That little brat. She wouldn’t dare. “You wouldn’t?” I challenge.
“Want to make a bet?” she says. I can just imagine the smug as fuck grin on her she-devil face. “Mom, Jace has something he nee-”
“Shit, fine. Shut up, would you?”
“By all means,” she says, prompting me to get on with my explanation.
I let out a huff and look down at my bloodied knuckles. “It was just the punching bag this time.”
“Shit, Jace,” she groans. “How many times is this going to happen before you go and do something about it? At first, I could understand, but now you’re just being stupid.”
“What the fuck am I supposed to do then?” I grunt. “I don’t even know the first place to start looking for help with this, and besides, it’s not like someone has a magic fucking pill that’s going to make me suddenly normal.”
“How do you know?” she challenges. “There might be something that could help stop it, but it’s not like you’re out there searching for your cure.”
I roll my eyes. It’s an ongoing argument between us. One where she thinks she knows what’s best for me and one where I think she should be minding her own fucking business. But she’s right. It’s about time I start getting this shit under control.
I let out a heavy sigh. “What do I do, Jess?”
She gasps as though some sort of miracle has just occurred. “Are you serious?” she questions. “You’re going to let me help?”
“No,” I grunt. “I’m going to let you google someone else who I’ll get to help.”
She huffs out her frustration but nonetheless, readily agrees. “How’s Cami?” she questions a moment later.
I roll my eyes. I should have seen this coming. I know she generally wants to know how Cami is, but right now, she’s only asking to get under my skin. “Alright,” Jessie says after a short pause. “I’ve found the best doctor in the state. Do you want me to send the information to you, or should I make the appointment for you?”
I think it over. If she does the appointment and gives me the doctors details at late notice, then it’s a shit load harder to back out. I let out a breath. “Make the call.”
“Alright, fuck knuckles. I’ll talk to you later.”
I roll my eyes at the old nickname. “Get lost,” I say. ‘I love you.”
With that, I end the call and throw my phone aside. I don’t know how to feel about this. I know getting on top of the PTSD bullshit is healthy, but at the same time, it’s going to make me face facts and that scares the shit out of me. Having to confront my demons and tr to get past them… I don’t know. It sounds like an impossible task, but I’m ready. I need to give this a try. Not just for me, but for Cami. I need to be the man she knows I can be.
The sound of my front door slamming I has me flying to my feet. I watch as Luke happily makes his way through my house, detouring though the kitchen before walking into the living room with two beer.
He slams one down on the coffee table in front of me before opening his own, taking a seat in the opposite couch and taking a swig.
“Um… is there something you need?” I grunt as I watch my best friend.
“Sit your fucking ass down, Jace. I’m sick of this bullshit and it’s about time you talked about it. You’ve been my best friend for over twenty years which means I know when something is up, and you, Jace, you’ve been dealing with this shit since we got back from Iraq.”
I let out a heavy sigh. “I told you at the club. I’m fine,” I tell him.
“Bullshit,” he grunts. “You don’t think I know about your dad?”
My eyes widen as I raise my head t look at him. “You know?”
“Fuck, man,” he says in disbelief. “Don’t fucking insult me like that. Of course, I know about it. I’ve given you three years, hoping that you’ll be able to get past it and come to me, but you’re just so fucking stubborn. I’m done waiting. You made me come clean with my issues and it’s about time you did the same.”
Dread fills me. I’m not ready for this shit. “Luke,” I grunt as I start shaking my head.
“Don’t even think about it,” he tells me as he takes another swig of his drink. “I’m not leaving here until you talk about it, and either are you.”
Fuck. “What the hell do you want to know?” I ask with a sigh.
“You blackout, don’t you?”
I let out a heavy breath and nod my head, hardly able to meet his eyes. “have been since we first got back. I’d just go blank and come to a few minutes later, disoriented, then three years ago, I hurt dad.”
“PTSD” he questions.
“Yep.”
He nods slowly as he takes a deep breath. “Have you hurt anyone else?”
“Not that I know of,” I explain.
“What does your dad think of all this?”
“He just wants me to get help. I don’t know, see a therapist or something.”
“You should,” he agrees, leaning forward on his knees. “Talking helps. It helped me. I haven’t had those dreams about my last tour since I talked to you and Lex about it. I hardly even think about it anymore.”
“Don’t get me wrong here,” I tell him. “I’m happy for you, but talking isn’t magically going to stop me from blacking out.”
“No, it won’t,” he says. “But it will help you to move past the guilt and learn to forgive yourself. You need to push your pride aside and go and see a doctor. It’s the only way you’ll get healthy. Just seeing a therapist isn’t enough. I can tell by the way your father is around you that he’s already forgiven you, so it’s time to move on and get past all this self-hatred because this shit is turning you into someone I hardly recognize. It’s volatile. You’re letting this dictate your life when you should be living it.”
“I know,” I tell him with a sigh. “Jessie just said the same thing. She booked an appointment.”
He sits up a little straighter as he narrows his eyes on me. “Really?” he questions, wondering if I’m bullshitting.
“Really,” I say. “I spoke to Cami at the hospital. She told me I was punishing myself and called me a coward.”
“She’d be right about that,” he tells me with a grunt. “What made you tell her after so long?”
“She pushed me away and I figured if she was finally done with me, that she should know it was real. It wasn’t all for nothing and it was about time she understood it.”
“Did it help? Talking to her.”
“I’ve got an appointment, don’t I?”
“I guess so,” he says. “You know, you could have talked to me about this at the beginning. I wouldn’t have judged you.”
I hang my head. “I know, man. I just couldn’t bring myself to admit that there was a problem, but in doing that, I’ve made it worse.”
“Yeah,” he says. “And you’ve hurt Cami because of it,” he says, picking up on the fact that I’ve been pushing her away because I enjoy torturing myself.
“Believe me, I know,” I tell him.
He nods his head again before finishing off his beer and getting to his feet. “Alright,” he says. “Get your ass out of here. I’m not letting you mope around here all afternoon. We’ve got classes to run.”
With that, we get up and walk out the door.