Chapter 33

(Aaron) (Trauma Trigger Warning)

My day started off great, but quickly spiraled out of control. Waking up with Rylan beside me was the highlight of the day. I would love to have that happen every morning, but I know that we are not quite ready for that step.

The day went quickly to shit when I got to the office. I was drowning in emails and meetings from the moment I booted up my computer. It was the meeting with Quinn and our CFO to go over the finances for the outreach center that set me off.

Things were going on track a month ago, but now there are snags left and right. Thankfully, none of them are with the construction crew. Max and his guys are solid. The problems are coming from the city.

The city keeps insisting that we need certain permits they claim we don’t have. Yet we have applied for them twice now. It feels like someone at city hall is dragging their feet to sabotage us.

Insurance. Health, vision, and dental for all our employees at the center, as well as those in the mobile health vans. Those employees will get hazard pay and insurance because they will be going into some rough areas. All of that is something we have already set in motion.

More insurance. This is what Quinn calls cover-our-ass-insurance in case something happens at the outreach center, and someone decides to try to sue us. That is the nature of our business; trying to help others tends to backfire on you sometimes.

Then there is the fundraiser we are throwing to raise awareness for the center and hopefully pull in enough money from outside investors to give the center a nice, good jump start. Our CFO has already set up two accounts for the center, one to pay the employees out of and the other for donations that we hope to have to sustain the center’s upkeep.

G&C Enterprises will, of course, help when needed, but we are hoping that the community will come together to help as well.

At least we have all our staff organized and ready to go. That was the easy part. As soon as we put feelers out for it, we go bombarded with doctors, nurses, and even social workers to come help. Many of them are retired vets themselves, and that makes me feel great.

Then my day got even worse during my session with Dr. West. We opened the wound that sent me into the darkness the first time. That was by far the worst day of my military career.

One woman and child that I tried to save. They were so scared. None of us saw the enemy soldiers hidden at the end of the small alley.

Those fuckers were just waiting for one of my teammates to cross into the open. Instead of it being one of my guys, it was an innocent mother and child who crossed into the open. All that mother wanted was to get her child to safety, but instead they were brutally gunned down by their own people.

(Flashback)

*The sound of gunfire is all around us as we creep through the city. Our mission was meant to be a simple recon mission. In and out in an hour, two at most. What we didn’t anticipate was that a small-scale assault on civilians by the enemy militia would pop off as we were trying to get the fuck out of dodge.

Suddenly, our recon mission turned into a rescue mission as we called for backup to help get the civilians to safety.

My team got separated at some point, and three of us are now plastered to the back wall of a rundown house. We are in an alley with two small walkways at each end. I am at one end of the alley while one of my teammates is at the other.

Banks, our medic, is holding his side as he tries to place a field dressing over the nasty gash in his side while we keep watch.

A door across from me suddenly cracks open, and I meet the frightened gaze of a woman and her child as they peek outside. I place my finger to my lips in a sign to have her stay quiet while I glance down the walkway in both directions.

It looks clear, so I motion for her to come to me. She shakes her head now, and I don’t blame her at all. She is safe where she is for now. I look at the child, then back up to the mother; the fear in their eyes makes me want to get them somewhere safer than where we are right now.

“Carter, we have to get moving!” Foster, the man at the other end of the alley, yells at me.

“Come with us; we can get you to safety,” I call out to the woman in the doorway.

I can see that she is terrified, and I don’t blame her at all. Hesitation flits across her face, then she looks down at the little girl that is pressed tightly to her. Everything in me is screaming to help them, but part of my brain knows that having them stay where they are is probably for the best.

Suddenly a loud, booming sound and the shaking of both buildings are a clear signal that it is time to leave this alley.

I lock eyes with the woman, and she nods her head once, then steps out into the street. The second she was out of the cover of the doorway, gunfire erupted from somewhere down the street. Somewhere that the enemy was lying in wait for one of us to cross into the open.

Sadly, it was an innocent woman and child instead of me or one of my men.

I watched in horror as she covered her child’s body with her own; each bullet fired ripped through both of them. When the gunfire stopped, I waited for a few minutes until I heard a sharp whistle in the direction the hail of bullets had come from. I knew that whistle, and relief filled me very briefly.

The rest of my team had found us.

Too late.

They were too late.

I rushed out into the street when I heard fast approaching footsteps. Gently, I rolled the woman over to see if either she or her child were still alive. It was clear that they were both gone.

Fuck!!!!

I should have insisted that they go back inside to hide. I should have taken my men back the way we had come from. If I had done those two things, two innocent lives could have been saved.

A hand on my shoulder pulled me back to the war zone we were in. I let Foster pull me to my feet, then we lifted the bodies off the ground and walked into the house they had come from.

Three hours later, we were in the back of a Humvee on our way back to base. As soon as I was alone, I broke down in tears. I was screaming, throwing anything and everything that was within reach at the surrounding walls.

By the time Quinn found me, I was curled in the fetal position on the floor of the shower stall.

“I got you, brother.”

He did. *

(End Flashback)

Rapidly blinking, I pull myself back to the present. I look around me and realize that I am sitting in my car in what looks like an abandoned apartment building parking lot. I have no idea where the fuck I am or how I got here.

That is never a good sign.

I check my watch, and my eyes go wide when I see that it is almost five. I left Dr. West’s office a little before one. The last thing I remember was stopping to get gas, then getting on the highway to head back to the office.

Three hours are missing. It has been a few years since I have lost time like that. It is also the first time that I have lost that much time in one instance.

Fuck!!

With a deep sigh, I start the car, then pull up the GPS on the dashboard. I am pleasantly surprised to see that I am not that far from the gas station that I stopped at for gas earlier. I pulled out of the parking lot and headed home.

I need a shower, something to eat, and then sleep.

It is only as I am almost home do I remember that Rylan was meeting with her father today and would be coming over later. After the shitty day that I had and the time I lost due to going down the rabbit hole of my nightmares, I am tempted to call her to ask her to come by tomorrow.

I didn’t make that call because I know she may need me today just as much as I need her.

(Rylan)

My father is sick, and he is divorcing Eva after all these years. My mind is conflicted about whether to be happy about that or sad about the reason why they are divorcing. She cheated on him and had a child as a result of that affair.

Just like he did with my mother and me.

Did she get pregnant by the other man on purpose? Did she know that Juanita wasn’t my father’s daughter all this time? If so, she has achieved her ultimate revenge on my father. Except, unlike her, my father will never turn his back on Juanita and treat her like shit.

Not like she did me.

He raised my sister, and she will always be his child.

Why do people cheat on those that they claim to love? Why not just leave if you are so unhappy in your relationship that another person can sway you away from your partner? I hate cheaters.

Funny that, since I am the product of two cheaters having an affair. I guess I now have more in common with my baby sister than I thought. The thought of reaching out to her to help her through this makes my stomach flop.

Juanita is very much her mother’s daughter, and we have never been close. She is what my mother called a last-ditch effort on Eva’s part to save her marriage. It worked at the time since they were fighting so much about me, but now it has backfired in her face with epic consequences.

I need to talk to Andrew soon. He left when our father wanted to speak to me alone, so I didn’t get a chance to ask him how he feels about all of this. Eva is his mother, and I know he will want to confront her about what our father told us today. I just hope he handles his mother better than I did mine.

Our parents suck.

After leaving the hotel, I headed to work, but since I was so unfocused, I passed my two patients off to another specialist for the day and stayed in my office to catch up on some paperwork.

By the time I wrapped up for the day it was almost six in the evening. I packed my bag and headed to Aaron’s; my head wasn’t any clearer than it was hours before.

When I pull up to the gate and put my finger on the scanner, all I can think about is a glass of wine and Aaron’s strong arms wrapped around me. I am surprised when I pull behind his car to find that the house is dark with only the front porch light on. I know that he is home because his car is parked out front.

That is when it dawned on me that he had therapy with Dr. West today.

I shove my personal crisis to the back of my mind, grab my bag from the back seat, then rush into the house. I call out for him when I enter the foyer, but don’t get a response, so I head to his office. The door is closed, so I knock once before I open it.

The room is dark and empty.

I call out for him again as I quickly walk upstairs to his room.

Just like his office, the bedroom is dark and empty.

“Aaron, where are you?” I whisper to myself as I try to think about where in this house he could be.

For the next twenty minutes I go from room to room looking for him after calling his phone results in the call going straight to voicemail. Finally, it occurs to me that if he had a bad day like I did, he may be in his home gym working out his frustrations on the heavy bag.

Or at a club working those demons out on a random, willing woman. My inner voice whispers in my head as I head to his gym that is off the garage.

No, that is the old Aaron. He isn’t like that anymore.

Right?

The old Aaron would do that every night he had a nightmare, which was most nights in the past. The old Aaron was a man whore who used sex as an escape from the demons that chased him when he let his guard down to sleep. The new Aaron wouldn’t do that to me.

Or would he?

When I enter the garage, I hear the music first. Heavy metal music is his go-to when he decides to beat the shit out of his heavy punching bag. Today’s therapy session must have gone badly for him to be in here already.

I hesitate at the door to the gym when I hear the loud sounds of flesh connecting with leather. I take a deep breath then I open the door. I thought I was prepared for whatever I would find; I was not at all.

Aaron is in the corner of the room with his back to the door, beating the ever-loving shit out of the heavy bag like it is his mortal enemy. I smell the blood before I see it; the coppery smell of it is thick in the air. It is splattered on the heavy bag and the floor around him.

How long had he been at this?

I must have spoken those words out loud, because he spins around to face me. The haunted look on his face and the glossy, vacant eyes caused me to take in a sharp breath in surprise.

Oh, my broken man.