by Jules Dixon
Rahl: I want to be your happiness. I’ll talk to you tonight. I love you more every day.
I turned and strutted into the building.
My phone buzzed in my hand while I rounded the top of the stairs to the third floor.
Sage: Wow :-)
I read her text five times. If she could make it through what I had done to her and still trust me, she was more than an angel. She’s a saint.
Sage deserved a man who could admit when he needed help. I wanted to be with her at her next doctor’s appointment so we could face whatever was happening inside of her together. But I needed to know what was happening inside of me first and to get past whatever was dragging my thoughts into a place that was hell. But I’d already been to hell on Earth, so I figured this was hell-adjacent.
“Rahl Vendetti for Dr. Sikes.” The receptionist handed me a form to fill out.
The in-depth information the form demanded was unnecessary. I stopped below the personal information and insurance questions, signed the back and handed the clipboard to her. She raised her eyebrows but didn’t question me.
A lanky blond-haired man stepped around the corner and grabbed the clipboard. “Rahl?”
I followed him to his office where he pointed to the sofa.
“Can I get you a bottle of water?” he asked.
Taking a seat on the green loveseat, I rubbed my hands together. “Please.” Cotton balls would have been easier to swallow than the aridness of my mouth.
He returned to the room with the water and handed it to me. My elbows balanced forward onto my legs, jiggling the bottle in my hands, then opening and taking a swig.
“Rahl, Tyson told me some basics of what you are experiencing. I’d like to hear more from you.” His voice was calm.
All or nothing, Vendetti.
I stopped the nervous bottle movements and blew out a big breath.
“A year and a half ago I was involved in an ambush in Afghanistan. My three buddies and I were on a routine patrol, like any other day. Our team leader directed us to scout ahead. We rounded a corner and were met by a group of young children. One of the guys’ wives sent lollipops and other small candy to give out and we shared the treats with the kids. He missed his three kids and we all liked seeing their excitement and genuine happiness.”
My heart crashed against my chest as I brought faded memories to the forefront of my mind. I cleared a lump from my throat and the chilled bottle of water iced my hands.
“The enemy disposition of the day had been cleared, nothing seemed out of the ordinary, and we went about business. But the local dissident faction had been watching our platoon’s moves and the kids knew what was going on. One heard from his older siblings that the rebels were going to attack us. The kids started screaming in Farsi and pushed us to hide. Our communications specialist called in reinforcements, but it was too late. We saw children lose their lives as a disgusting and meaningless sacrifice. It was a clear message that the enemies were going to make a statement of their dominance and total disregard for human life. As we were taking cover, Evan took a bullet that tore through his chest wall.”
I dropped my head and closed my eyes, the move taking me back to the scene.
“I dragged him around a corner but he was gone. Then Knox was hit. While trying to fend off the insurgents, I pulled him around a corner. He screamed a gargled sound I’d never heard as blood rushed from his neck. I tried to stop the rushing, but I couldn’t. He told me to tell his family he loved them and to kill the sons-a-bitches that took him from them. I methodically started taking out the rebels one by one, not knowing where the last soldier I’d arrived with was located and hoping he wasn’t captured. By this time the rest of our unit had arrived and engaged the remaining few gunmen. I went looking for my missing soldier.” A tear dropped onto my hand. “My friend. I found Ryan’s back hunched over something but he wasn’t moving. I pulled on his shoulder and rolled him off of two children who couldn’t have been over the age of four. Both of them looked up at me like they knew what he’d sacrificed for them.”
A track of tears slowly trickled down my face and I wiped it away.
I cleared my throat. “I picked up Ryan’s body and marched off. Twenty feet from the combat medic I took a bullet to my gut but I kept going. Ryan deserved to be carried to the truck. After I got him in, I collapsed and was transported to a hospital.”
I relayed the experience of dying and how my buddies brought me back to life.
Dr. Sikes wrote a few lines in his file, then looked up at me. “Why do you think they guided you back?”
“I don’t know.” It was true, I didn’t know, and it was a question that haunted me.
“Do you think you should’ve died?”
“Not necessarily ‘should have,’ but why them and not me?”
“Hard to understand the whys of all of it, isn’t it?”
I nodded. “Part of me hates that they sent me back, especially if this is how I’ll be for the rest of my life.”
“And how do you think these feelings play into your night terrors?”
“I’m not sure they do.”
He wrote something else on his pad of paper.
“My girlfriend just told me yesterday that she used to think of me as an ogre because I was grumpy and moody, but she says now I’m smiling and my mood has gotten better. I didn’t used to be an ogre. I … I used to love life, but right now I’m not sure what I think about it.”
“Rahl, survivor’s guilt is a part of PTSD.”
I cringed and pursed my lips. I’d heard it so many times that the word had almost lost meaning when it came to being a soldier, but he was the doctor, and I’d let him give his two cents.
He removed his glasses. “And yes, that term gets thrown around a lot in the military circles but it’s real and the sleep disturbance you are experiencing is both a symptom and a reaction to the PTSD. Your significant military service and spending four years in Afghanistan and Iraq is admirable, but what you experienced has taken a toll on your mind. As humans we can only justify a certain amount of tragedy and pain before it overcomes our natural defenses. You’ve hit your limit.”
“How can I get back to normal sleep and a normal me?”
“Well, sounds like this girlfriend has a positive effect on your attitude?”
“Yeah, but she has her own health issues.”
“Tell me more.” His eyes narrowed.
After I told him about Sage’s cancer and the possibility that the cancer was back, he put his pen down and clasped his hands on his notepad. I straightened my back to prepare for what I could tell wouldn’t be easy to hear.
“That’s probably going to be an issue until you know her actual health status. Survivor’s guilt can cause a person to want to take care of and save the people around them, like a superhero. That can put as much pressure on you as being in a combat situation. What if Sage is sick again and you can’t save her?”
I took a long drink of water. “I might want to die with her.” Admitting the truth brought up the thought of Laken wanting to do the same.
“You have family that would miss you, right?”
I remembered Laken’s emotional speech about not leaving her, as well as Fiona’s reaction to my injuries.
I blew out a long breath and ran my hand over my hair. “Right.”
He pulled out a small pad. “I’ve heard enough for today. That was good work. I can tell you want to get better. Let’s get you some uninterrupted sleep, and I’ll set you up on weekly visits for the next couple of months.”
“I don’t like taking medication.”
He glanced up. “Not many soldiers do, but, hopefully, it will be temporary.” Dr. Sikes went back to the prescription pad. “If we can change how you react to current anxiety by replacing those thoughts and feelings with something more pleasant and work on reframing…” He glanced up and saw my puzzled look. “Sorry, that’s putting a new perspective in regards to what happened overseas. I think t
here’s a good chance you will come off the meds quickly. Can you come in for another session this week?”
“Name the time and date, doc.”
He ran through his calendar. “Thursday, at ten hundred hour?”
“I’ll be here. Thanks for getting me in so quickly.”
He handed me a prescription and I stood. “Rahl, we’ll get to the bottom of this. Are you the brother-in-law that skeet-shoots competitively?”
“Yeah.”
“Tell Richter to stick to high-risk obstetrics and gynecology. He almost took out a real bird instead of the clay pigeon the last time we went out.”
I chuckled. “I’ve tried to explain his skills would be better used looking at female parts, but he doesn’t seem to listen to me, either.”
Dr. Sikes shook his head with amusement. “He sucks.” His eyes widened. “Sorry. Highly unprofessional of me.”
“The truth isn’t unprofessional, and I value honesty.”
He held out his hand and we shook. “I’ll see you on Thursday, Rahl.”
“Later, doc.”
Dr. Sikes was knowledgeable about PTSD and the fact he thought Tyson was a crap-shot at skeet impressed me more than his degrees ever would. But could he help me get to the root of my problem and then fix it? I’d always believed that if I wanted something and put in the time and effort, nothing was impossible. I’d face this like any other operation I’d accepted. SMEAC—Situation, Mission, Execution, Administration and Logistics, and Command and Signal. While I drove back to the office, I ran the acronym in my brain and figured out a plan.
I addressed the two guys in the office with a smile and a pleasant greeting, and they gave each other uneasy glances.
Yep, ogre.
These guys deserved my respect, not my attitude.
“Guys, hey, I know I’ve not been an easy boss to work for the last couple of months. I’m sorry.”
Neither of them said anything, doing the blank army stare straight ahead.
I huffed and noticed my accelerating heartbeat. I closed my eyes and pictured something more pleasant. Sage when she sang “Happy Birthday” to me floated into my consciousness.
I turned to my right and opened my eyes. “Max, when you’re done with your afternoon assignment, go home to your kids and spend time with them.”
“Um … sure.” He went back to his computer as if he didn’t believe me.
“I’m serious, Max.”
“Oh, I know you are, sir. You don’t say anything you don’t mean. I learned that after you referred to my proposal last Monday as, and I quote, ‘an unintelligent piece of crap and something a preschooler could have blabbered out’.”
I cringed. “I’m sorry. I was in a bad mood because of family issues and projected my anger onto you. The proposal wasn’t good, but I didn’t have to be that brutal.”
“Sorry to hear you have family issues. Hope everything is better.”
“It is. Thank you. Now, it’s time to leave for the day.”
Max smiled. “Yes, sir. I’ll be gone in ten minutes. My six-year-old, Krey, has his first coach-pitch baseball game early this evening. Glad I can make it to see him play.”
“And from now on you can leave early on game days when needed, just let me know the schedule.”
“Thanks, Rahl.”
“Bryson, tomorrow morning, you can come in late, make it after lunch, for that private residence equipment install.”
“I don’t have kids, boss,” he responded.
“Then go to Triple R and work out or take your grandmother to breakfast. I’m giving you time to enjoy life, not so you can sit on your ass playing Call of Duty, but what you do with the time is up to you. Just make it count.”
“All right. I’ll see you after lunch tomorrow.”
“Where’s Leah?”
“In the bathroom. She’s been in there a long time,” Max said with concern, glancing over his shoulder.
I stood outside of the bathroom, but not too close that I would surprise her as she came out the door.
When she did, I frowned. Her face was red and she wiped her eye with a tissue.
“Leah?”
She jumped at my voice and straightened her back, her soldier training overcoming whatever emotional issue she was experiencing.
“Yes, sir.”
“At ease, Leah. There’s no need for the formality. Please, call me Rahl. Now what’s wrong?”
“Nothing important, sir.” She stared straight ahead.
I stepped in front of her to break her stare. “Leah, I can tell you’ve been crying. I don’t know if I can help with whatever is going on, but maybe I can at least listen while you talk it out.”
Her shoulders slumped. “My dog was hit by a car yesterday. I held her in my arms while she died.” Leah let go of a wail that had the guys turning in their chairs.
I pulled her into my body and glanced over her shoulder.
“I should’ve been able to save her.”
Know that feeling.
“Sometimes there’s another plan to life that we’re not meant to understand. Why don’t you take the rest of the afternoon off?”
“No, I’d rather keep working. It helps to concentrate on something else.”
That’s a soldier.
“Okay, in that case I have a new project for you.” I set her to focus on something that was different, and she smiled when I described my plan.
“I can do that, sir. I mean, Rahl.”
The fact that three out of the ten employees I had on staff were all in better moods made me in a better mood. Attitude started at the top and worked its way down. I should’ve recognized that I was the problem. But now I could be the solution .The other seven employees were on orders for private security detail or surveillance in Omaha and other close cities. I’d brief them on changes that were going to happen in the office next week.
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
Sage: Going to work out tonight. Want to meet me at Triple R?
Rahl: What time?
Sage: 6?
Rahl: Sounds good.
Sage: See you then.
I finished the day’s security work before researching PTSD and night terrors on the Veterans Affairs website and other search engines. Seemed this wasn’t something I could do on my own. I stopped off where Leah told me to, then ran to the pharmacy to fill my prescription and, finally, home to get changed for the gym.
I was climbing into my truck when I heard a voice. “Rahl.”
I stepped back out of the truck. “Hey, Ashley. Kirby, how are you feeling?”
Ashley gave me the evil eye and stomped into the house. She never really liked me anyway. It was no big loss when it came to her, but having Kirby out of my life might be a rougher kind of sandpaper on my spirit.
“I’m okay. Pain pills are really helping.”
“Good to hear. Bro, I’ll pay for your hospital charges.”
“I have insurance, so unless they throw a fit, I’m covered.” He swayed in his canvas shoes. “Rahl, I’m moving out.”
“You don’t have to do that. I saw a psychiatrist today. He gave me a prescription for sleeping meds. I’ll see him again on Thursday for another session.”
“I’m glad you’re getting help, but I can’t be here anymore. Ashley isn’t happy with the situation.” He lowered his voice. “I don’t need to tell you that when she isn’t happy, ain’t nobody happy.”
“Yeah, I got that.”
His face looked like he’d been jumped in an alley by a dozen men, not just one. That wasn’t easy to stomach.
“I’ll take the day off tomorrow to help you move,” I offered, trying to think of any way to make up for what I’d done.
“No, but thanks. The guys from Easton’s band are coming over to help. Not that I don’t appreciate your offer, but I don’t have that much shit anyway, and you know, Ashley doesn’t want me...” He stared out of the garage.
“God, could this be any more uncomfortable?”
/>
“I’m sure it could for you, but since I’m feeling no pain, it’s not that uncomfortable for me.”
I gurgled a chuckle at his attempt at humor. “Thanks, Kirb, I needed that. I’m sorry for what happened. If I’d listened to you in the beginning, maybe it wouldn’t have happened.”
“Is Sage doing okay?”
“I think so. I’m headed to meet her at Triple R.”
Kirby reached into his pocket and drew out an envelope. “Rent for June, July, and August.”
“Keep it. I’m sure you have some sort of deductible, use it for that.”
“Are you sure?”
“I am. Hope we can get together sometime soon.”
“I’d like to taste that Kölsch when it’s done.” Kirby used the tailgate to steady his weaving body.
“Sounds good. I’d better get to the gym.” I held out my hand for a shake and Kirby signaled it away to come in for a bro-hug. I made sure to make it an easy one with his broken clavicle. He still released a small grunt of discomfort and the sound drove his pain straight into my gut.
He stepped back. “Good luck with Sage. I like her. I think she saved my life.”
“I think she might save mine, too.”
“I hope so. Bye, Rahl.”
“Bye, Kirby.”
I figured that would probably be the last I heard ever from him. When the girlfriend wasn’t a big fan, it was hard to suggest getting together as couples. And if she put up even the smallest fight on a guys-only night, then the relationship would dissolve like gunpowder smoke into air. I was sure he’d stay friends with Easton, but it was time to make amends there, too.
I’d made a mess of the people who cared about me.
Now to find out how big of a mess I made with Sage.
Chapter Twenty
Sage
I woke up with a tiny hangover. More like just a multiple-number-of-shared-bottles-of-wine headache, but the sting was totally worth it. Tia ended up coming over last night and she, Laken, and I had the best girls’ night in. I laughed so hard that I snorted wine out my nose and that only made Tia and Laken laugh harder. I almost called Presley to see if she wanted to join us. After Saturday, I thought maybe she and I could be friends.
