Four years ago
Lying on my parents’ couch, I watch as the Volunteers beat the Bulldogs. Mildly amused, I lie here mutely, fighting sleep, not wanting to succumb to my dreams. So many nights I have woken up in drenched sheets, sweat covering every inch of me. I picture the bodies lying scattered in the sand, and can hear the screams of the dying. Being home is hard. My family and friends aren’t used to the person I am now, and I’m finding it hard to fit into the mold of the person I once was.
My dad owns a few car dealerships and is great at it, but before that, he was a Marine. He retired when I was a little kid. Ever since then, I wanted to be just like him. I don’t know what he’s been through; we’ve never talked about it, but I know he’s seen some shit by the vacant looks he would get sometimes, or how his mood would change drastically out of nowhere. My mom doesn’t make me talk about it, but I know she’s hurting because of this, too. If only I knew what to do to make her feel better. The friends I had while in high school and college are all busy with their lives. They’ve invited me out a few times, and every time I’ve gone, it was awkward.
What I need is to escape. Trying to make peace with my demons on my own isn’t working. Selling cars with my dad and pretending I hadn’t spent four years of my life as a different person wasn’t a solution, either. I should get in my old Chevy and drive. Drive until I can feel something other than pain, rejection, and helplessness. I need to be worth a damn again. The things I am doing at home seem pointless. When you go from being on a Special Ops team to selling cars for your dad, it does something to your psyche.
Ring, ring, ring.
I look over at my phone, the phone I have been screening because I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I see a number I don’t recognize, and let it go to voicemail. I’ll check it later and call them back if I need to. When my phone chirps again to let me know I have a text, I groan and pick it up.
Unknown: Hey, it’s Kingston. I’m in Sweet Briar. Want to meet up?
Do I want to meet up with someone who understood everything I was going through? Yes. Hell yes, I do. I hesitate to text him back, though. My sergeant, Adam Kingston, had become one of my best friends while we were over there. We shared many a laugh and quite a few hard situations. I also told him about my girl back home. She’s not available anymore—shocker!
This is a man I admired, someone who could read me better than almost anyone. He would know immediately that coming home was hard. He was probably doing great, getting on with his life, with a great job and all. He had told me to call him when I got home, but I never did. Things were different after getting out. He’s from Georgia, so I wonder what has him out here. He probably knew I wouldn’t call, and he came to kick my ass for being such a dumb fuck and get my ass in line.
Me: Sure, man. Meet you at Murphy’s Pub. 8 tonight, okay?
Kingston: Ok. 8 is good.
When I get to the bar, he is already here, with two beers waiting—he’s a good guy like that. Stopping in front of the table, he looks me over. “Well, you look like shit. Figured you would.”
Sitting down, I look down at the table, trying to figure out what to say. “Kings, I was going to call. Been busy is all.” Looking up, I hope that is enough, or at least he won’t call me out on my BS.
Kings has never been the kind of guy that will let you get away with anything. He’s a straight shooter, honest as they come. He expects the same from the people he surrounds himself with.
“Yeah, you can cut the shit, Atwood. I know it’s hard coming back to civilian life.”
I sigh and rest my head on my crossed arms on the table. “Fuck, man. Shit’s different here. I don’t feel like myself anymore,” I say quietly, knowing he can hear me. He claps me on my shoulder and squeezes with a silent show of support. I look up and see in his eyes that he has some demons he is still fighting.
“You know, I tried to deal with it all when I got back. Told myself I didn’t need any help getting back to the real word. I was wrong.”
I nod, because that’s exactly where I am. “Well, you look like you figured it out.”
He nods. “I couldn’t sleep at night. Couldn’t work because I was exhausted from not sleeping. My nerves were shot to hell. Freaked out at a grocery store when an old lady had touched me without thinking.”
“Damn,” is my only reply, because I’ve been there, too.
“Some guy saw what happened—guess he retired a few years before—and gave me his card. He runs a support group for guys who have gotten out recently.”
My eyes widen, never thinking someone like Kings would be at a support group. He laughs. “It was funny at first, because of all these guys who don’t talk about their feelings, I had to sit there and do exactly that. You know something, Atwood?” I shake my head, waiting. “It helped.”
“You trying to tell me to get some help?”
He shakes his head, and I see in his eyes the acceptance that I’ve been missing; the brotherhood that kept me safe and sane when nothing else did.
“I’m trying to tell you that if you need it, it’s okay to talk to people who have been where you are. Who are where you are. They would understand better than anyone.”
I nod once. I’m over this heavy conversation already.
“Look, I’m not trying to get on your case. I’ve called you a few times because I have a proposition for you,” Kings says. Raising my eyebrows, I signal for him to continue. “I called you first, but you weren’t answering. I got ahold of the rest of the team. Donovan, Spader, Owens…even Cutter and Anderson are game, but I’d like you to be second in command.”
“What do you have, man? You aren’t in town to bust my balls?”
He gives me that look, the shut the fuck up and listen to what I have to say look.
“I want to start a security firm, open it up together with the team. I’ve had a few people who’ve offered serious money for us to go in and extract people from unusual situations. It’s like what we were doing before, but we get to pick the jobs, and get to decide how they’re handled. There are other services we will offer, like personal security, tech services, and putting in systems.”
I nod and ask, “The whole team wants in?”
He sits up straighter, smiling, knowing he’s got me. “Yeah, Cutter, Anderson, and Spader were an easy sell, but I had to talk to Owens and Donovan a few times before they agreed. They all want you in, though. Said they want the whole team or it won’t work. I agree.”
“Kings, man, it sounds good, but where were you thinking of opening this operation? I have roots here. Mac—shit.” Dragging my hands down my face, I take a deep breath.
“Have you seen your girl, Atwood?”
Shaking my head, I tell him the news my mom told me about her after I got home. “She’s married, has a baby.”
He stares at me for a beat. “You think she’s happy?” he asks the same question that’s been running through my mind for months now. I shrug my shoulders.
Looking around at the people in the bar, I say, “I don’t know. I always thought it was me and her. I know I screwed things up when I left, but I always thought that when I came home, we would be able to start what has always been between us. Maci is mine, man. She’s everything. So now I can’t have her… Fuck, I don’t know.”
“Look, I’ve never had that connection with a woman before, but I don’t think that story is finished,” Kingston says, and I nod.
“Tennessee is a good location to travel from. Anderson and Cutter are from this area as well. We all agreed we want to open up shop here.”
“Well, alright then. I guess we have some things to figure out.”
The rest of the night, we discuss the logistics of how we are going to get the firm started. Kings moved to town a few weeks later, and the other guys came soon after. It was good to have them around again. I finally started feeling normal—my version of normal, anyway. We found ten acres of land for sale in the mountains, and got busy planning our compound. We pooled our resources, but most of the backing came from Kingston. He had a trust fund that hadn’t been touched for reasons he never explained. We built Panthera Security and Protection within six months of breaking ground on the property. It was complete with a building, a gun range, tactical course, and a helicopter launch pad. The entire property was surrounded by a high electric fence. It’s a sweet setup that I’m more than proud to call ours.
****