Chapter Three

Garrett

She hadn’t called.

A week after Garrett had left her place, and he hadn’t heard a thing from her.

Nothing.

He shouldn’t have cared. He should have shrugged it off and continued on his unmerry way. But her damn pretty face and sunny voice plagued every one of his waking thoughts. If that wasn’t bad enough, he saw her and flashes of what he assumed were the two days he had spent with her. He would wake aching to hear the chime of her laughter or reaching for the hand she had let him hold. He could swear he knew the feel of it in his. Small and delicate, while an incomprehensible strength and bravery exuded from it.

The idea of her hand in his helped him drift off to sleep on a daily basis since he had been back.

“Hey!” a feminine voice called out, and he turned. It might have been February, but the California sunshine didn’t seem to care.

His sister-in-law, Valerie, walked over, her hand on her rounded belly, which was somehow bigger than the last time he’d seen her. He found himself smiling and raising his hand before meeting her halfway in the backyard.

“I didn’t know you were coming over,” he said, giving her a small hug before stepping away.

“I didn’t take you for the outdoorsy type. I thought you hated the pool.” Val smiled at him.

“Why would you think that?” he asked. He actually liked the pool area of his brother’s home.

“I don’t know. I guess I’ve never really seen you around it,” she observed, and if he thought about it, he couldn’t blame her. When they had family get-togethers, he tended to take the presence of everyone in small doses, constantly leaving the family around the pool to go inside and regroup.

“Come on.” He led the way into the house, through the kitchen. “Bryan with you?”

“He’s working. I thought I would stop by,” she shared, her hand on her stomach.

He had been expecting it.

The moment Donnie had seen him Monday morning by his truck, he had known his lifelong friend wouldn’t keep his mouth shut. He couldn’t blame Don, though. He had been a mess.

Even a week later, there were still traces of the bruises and swelling. Hell, his body was still a little sore, and cuts were still healing.

“You hungry?” he asked, and she giggled. Val had a ferocious appetite, and it hadn’t been whetted by the little guy currently leasing space in her ever-expanding belly.

“Believe it or not, I’m not.”

“How is my nephew doing?”

“Baking.” She winked, taking a seat at the kitchen table. “But you know that’s not why I’m here.” He did. Valerie wasn’t the kind to beat around the bush. It was one of the many things he respected about her.

“Val.” He tried to use as stern of a voice as he could around her, but he knew it was useless when she grabbed his hand as he passed by her. Looking down at her, he frowned. He had no idea what it was about his brother’s wife that had made her feel like family from the moment they had met.

“They’re worried,” she stated. He took a deep breath.

“They have nothing to worry about.”

“Are you shitting me?” she bit back without hesitation, and his lips twitched slightly at the sound of her cursing.

“Val,” He didn’t know what to say to calm her down.

“You disappeared for THREE days, Garrett!” Her small hand went into a fist and hit the table. With his own sigh, he took the chair next to hers and sat his ass down.

“Val—”

“That isn’t anything new for me,” she threw out, and he flinched. “People have always pulled crap like that in my life.” Her family had been a bunch of assholes. “But Bryan, Marcus, even Donnie, they were scared half to death! You wouldn’t answer your phone. Not one damn peep from you.”

“Val—”

“But when you did call, you called Don, and he picked you up. Not just picked you up, but Garrett, you were bruised and battered,” she pointed out. He swallowed hard, trying to find the right words.

“I was fine.” He fought his wince at the sight of her eyes narrowing. Wrong choice of words, obviously.

“You should have gone to the hospital!”

“I wasn’t that bad,” he added. She snapped her head toward him. Her glare made him retreat. “I didn’t want to go. I told Donnie. I’m not a fan of hospitals.”

“Who is?” she asked, clearly disgruntled. Garrett opened his mouth to try and calm her down, but she kept going, “Or fine, it’s not like you have a trauma nurse you’re related to. Or have a brother who could get a doctor to see you at the snap of his fingers.”

“Val—”

“I’m having a baby,” she said, and he stilled.

“I know that, honey.”

“Bryan and I are having a child, and I’m sorry to say this to you, but I won’t have him go through anything I did.” Her back was ramrod straight. He blinked once, then twice, before opening his mouth. “Val—”

“It might make me a bitch, but you disappearing, worrying everyone like you did—”

“I’m sorry,” he cut her off. Squeezing her hand gently, he didn’t start to speak until their eyes met and the concern in her eyes gutted him, filling him with guilt. “I won’t ever do anything like that again. I promise.”

“You were doing so well,” she whispered, squeezing his hand back. He sighed.

“It was the anniversary of when my convoy was hit. I fucked up,” he confessed and shook his head. “I drank too much, Val. Goaded these little assholes into a fight and—”

“And they kicked your ass,” she guessed. He was man enough to chuckle it off.

“I let them,” he admitted, and silence fell between them.

“Why?” she asked softly, her other hand now covering his.

“I felt like I deserved it,” he confessed, just like he had to his therapist.

“Because you survived?” she surmised. A knot formed in his throat, making it impossible to answer. He had survived. Him. The one who had nothing. No woman or kids. Not like his buddies. Looking away from her, he focused his eyes on the backyard.

“You know, when someone we care about is taken away… especially in a senseless way, it’s hard to understand why,” she softly added, and he callously scoffed.

She didn’t know the shit that haunted him. He tried to let go of Valerie’s hand, but she didn’t let him. Instead, she squeezed it, not in a painful way but a reassuring one. One that made him look away from the backyard and into her eyes.

“I get it more than you know, Garrett. I get suffering a loss and not understanding why shit happens the way it does and why God would let something like that happen. But the thing is, you are here. You’re alive.”

“Val.” His body was held tight, and he tried to warn her not to push him, but she kept talking.

“You’re here,” she repeated, and he hated how thankful he felt to still be breathing. It felt like a betrayal to his brothers in arms. “You have this chance at making life all you want it to be. Something that those who aren’t with us anymore simply don’t.”

“You don’t think I know that?” he gritted through his teeth.

“Your friends, your brothers in uniform, wouldn’t want you to live like this.”

“How would you know?” he snapped, unable to hold his tongue, but Val was made of tougher stuff, because she didn’t flinch at his outburst.

“Because I know loss, Garrett.” She wasn’t lying. She had opened up to him one night in the hospital after his brother was recovering from surgery.

But even if she hadn’t, he had already known. It was reflected in her eyes. They had both lost people near and dear to them.

“I know what survivor’s guilt is like. I get it.” Her voice was so full of emotion his gut burned, but in a different way now.

“Val—” He didn’t need her to get upset. Not when she was heavily pregnant and he was home alone with her. His brother would kill him and make it look like an accident.

“My uncle wouldn’t have wanted me to live my life in the shadows or follow in my freaking parents’ dumbass footprints,” she stated, and he sighed.

“I know.”

“Then why are you?” she pleaded, and he swallowed hard.

“I’m—”

“Bryan won’t ever say this to you, because you guys have so much damn male pride and ego, but they were all scared to death, Garrett,” she whispered.

“Babe—”

“So was I,” she admitted. He swallowed knowing how difficult admitting weakness was for Valerie. “And Grace. Even Grace’s sister, Gloria, was stressing out, and not much gets to her,” Valerie pointed out, getting more and more upset with every word.

“Babe—”

“You do this shit again, and I swear I will kick your ass, Garrett.”

“I know.” She looked at him fiercely, but even behind the anger, worry won out. She was giving him tough love. Tough love he didn’t deserve because he knew it meant she cared. She considered him family. As much as he hated it and felt undeserving, he was glad she was dishing out.

“I didn’t meet you before the whole Grace and Marc thing, so I don’t know how bad shit was. Whatever happened between the three of you, however you were, I honestly can’t imagine you being that much of a dick. Especially to Grace. But I know people are human, and we deal with shit in all sorts of fucked-up ways. But let me tell you something; being one hundred percent honest here, I don’t care to meet that Garrett. The Garrett I know is my friend.”

“I am.”

“You’re like a brother. Unlike any I have ever even dreamed of having in my life.” Her voice cracked, and he shuffled his chair closer and hugged her as she broke down and cried.

“I’m sorry I freaked you guys out,” he sincerely apologized into her hair.

Stefanie

I was lame.

I wanted to call him.

I had done the same thing every passing day.

I made a big show of ignoring the note on my old, scratched-up coffee table. I got home from work, I made something to eat, and I would pretend the existence of the note with male scribbling wasn’t taunting me.

But every day, I sat on the couch and it distracted me from whatever book I was trying to read. After an hour, I would hold the note and look at it, trying to decipher any hidden message, and then try to figure out if I should call.

I didn’t.

Not once.

For an entire two weeks.

But I did think about it.

Until tonight.

Tonight, I shook my head at myself and texted You’re welcome, quickly setting my phone down, chastising myself. For all I knew, he had already forgotten about the weekend he had been here. Grabbing the note, I stood and walked to my small kitchen, tossing it into the trash as I passed by it, and started preparing lunch for the next day. A ping sounded from my phone, and I stilled, my hands freezing as they held the bag of wheat sandwich bread.

“It’s probably just Kip. Or Carly,” I mumbled to myself as I set the bag down and walked to my phone. His number stared back at me.

It meant a lot to me, his message read, and I frowned. Grabbing my phone, I did something I normally wouldn’t have. Without a thought or a plan, I responded.

Me not taking you to the hospital, like I should have?

Small bubbles immediately appeared, and I was enthralled. There was no other word for it. A message popped back, his response clear.

You taking care of me.

His answer stared back at me, and I didn’t know what to do with it, so I responded politely.

You’re welcome. The message showed it had been read, and then there was nothing.

I don’t know what I was expecting or hoping for, but it didn’t surprise me. The moment you hoped for more from people, you opened yourself up for a world of disappointment.