Cold Feet

by Samantha A. Cole

  Not sure what to say to that, Ryan ran a frustrated hand down his scruffy face. He hadn’t shaved in three days, and it probably made him look like a crazy person after being woken up to this mess in the middle of the night.

  “I want to believe it was an accident,” Josh continued, “because of our history, but, honestly, it’s been a while since I’ve hung out with him. People change. I know he saw shit in the Army. Does he have PTSD?”

  Ryan nodded. “Yeah. Flashbacks. Nightmares. He sees a shrink once a week, although, in the beginning, it was three times a week. He doesn’t take any of the medications they tried because of different side effects, and he said the doc was okay with that. He’s been doing better lately, since returning home, but the flashbacks and nightmares are going to be with him for a long time most likely.”

  “Excessive anger issues?”

  “No, absolutely not.” He shook his head. “No more than most people. I can tell you he’s known Gi since she was little and has been in love with her for a few years, according to him. They only recently started dating though. I can’t see him doing this on purpose, but I wasn’t there.”

  “All right. Let’s go talk to Regina and get the whole story. But, word of warning, I need you to be calm in there—she needs you calm. No outbursts. No threats of killing him, no matter how much that urge bubbles to the surface. Got it?”

  “Yeah. Got it.” Apparently, Josh had become really good at reading people, because as much as he didn’t think Buck had hurt Regina intentionally, a part of Ryan still wanted to kill his best friend for hurting her at all.

  Josh led the way down the hall, past several rooms with signs above the doors announcing what they were used for—Trauma, Cardiac Care, etcetera. He stopped next to a partially opened door, under the words “Suture Room.” Entering first, he closed the door after Ryan stepped in behind him. His sister was lying on her side on a gurney, with her back to them, and a nurse was setting up a tray with instruments on it nearby. A female, uniformed officer stood quietly in the corner, using a stylus to type something into a tablet.

  Although he’d been prepared for it, the sight of Regina’s back, exposed by the hospital gown she was wearing, was a shock. Red slices of varying degrees of lengths and depths ran from her neck downward, disappearing under a sheet that covered her from her waist down. He didn’t know how much further the cuts went, but what he saw was bad enough. He forced down the anger he felt at seeing her hurt like that, remembering what Josh had said about staying calm. “Gi?”

  She glanced over her shoulder and burst out crying when she saw him. He rushed around to the other side of the gurney and squatted next to her, brushing her hair from her wet, red face. “Shh. It’s going to be okay.”

  Clutching his arm, she held on tightly. “N-no, it’s n-not! They arrested Buck. You have to tell them it was an accident. You have to get him out of jail. P-please, Ryan! Please! It’s all my fault! You—” She was close to being hysterical. Her wide, puffy eyes pleaded with him.

  “Shh. All right. All right. But first, you have to tell the detective what happened.” He gestured to the foot of the bed, where Josh now stood. “This is a friend of ours from high school, Josh Boyd. He needs to hear what happened before he can release Buck. Okay?”

  Sobbing, she gulped several times before nodding. “O-okay.”

  Josh moved to the side of the gurney next to Ryan. “I’m sorry we had to meet this way, Regina, but can you tell me what happened, from the beginning?”

  She nodded again and wiped her eyes. “I-I was sleeping in his bed. He’d told me he couldn’t fall asleep next to me because of the nightmares. He was—was afraid he might hurt me.” She took a shuddering breath and let it out. “After I fell asleep, he went out to the couch in the living room. I woke up, and it was dark out. At first, I didn’t know what had awakened me, but then I heard him calling out. He sounded—I don’t know . . .” Her gaze shifted between the two men a few times before settling back on Josh’s face. “Scared, I guess. I went to the living room and . . . and he was a mess, caught up in the blanket. He looked like he was in pain, thrashing around. He was calling out orders and—”

  “Orders? What kind of orders?”

  “To his men. Other soldiers. Stuff like, get down and watching out for something—I don’t remember what exactly. He yelled for a corpsman, and then he screamed, ‘incoming.’ That’s when I tried to wake him. I-I couldn’t watch him like that anymore. I had to wake him up. I tried calling out his name, but it didn’t work. I moved closer and touched his shoulder. The next thing I knew I was falling backward onto the table. It broke and cut me up. The noise seemed to finally wake Buck, and he jumped up. He started to panic when he saw me, asking if I was okay. He—he called 9-1-1 right away. They told him not to move me until the medics got there. When the police arrived . . .” She swallowed hard. “They put handcuffs on him and arrested him.” Her gaze focused on Josh, pleadingly. “But none of it was his fault. Please, you have to believe me.”

  The door swung open and a middle-aged man strode in, wearing glasses and dressed in scrubs. “Sorry, gentlemen, but I need to interrupt and ask you to step outside while I tend to the patient.” He eyed Regina’s back for a moment. “It might take a while to get all the small slivers out and then stitch a few spots.”

  Ryan squeezed Regina’s hand that he didn’t remember taking hold of. “I’ll be right outside, Gi. Everything is going to be all right. I promise.”

  “You’ll release Buck?” she asked Josh.

  Clearly not willing to commit right then, the detective said, “Let me talk to the arresting officers first. I’ll let you know in a little bit.”

  She nodded again but looked miserable. Ryan gave her hand another squeeze and pasted a terse smile on his face. “I’ll come back in when the doctor’s done, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  As he followed Josh out of the room, he heard the doctor say, “Ms. Vaughn, I’m Dr. Zweig. Has the pain medication kicked in yet?” She must have said yes or indicated that it had because he continued. “Good. When was your last tetanus shot?”

  Ryan didn’t hear anything more because the door closed behind him. Leaning against the wall in the hallway, Josh asked, “So, what do you think?”

  “She’s telling the truth. No doubt in my mind.” That, of course, didn’t make him feel any better, but the homicidal thoughts he’d been having about Buck had dropped down to beating the crap out of him.

  “I agree. Listen, I know this is hard on all of you. PTSD causes a lot of damage on the home front. But I have a suggestion. Not sure if it’s been considered before, but would he be averse to getting a support dog? My cousin’s husband has PTSD, but his has more to do with being in crowds than nightmares. He got a support dog last year, and Mike says it’s the best thing to happen to him besides his wife and kids. The dog is trained to comfort him and lead him out of situations that are stressing him. It’s kind of cool to watch.

  “I was out with him one day at Home Depot, and the lines were pretty long. I didn’t realize what was happening right away, but, damn, that dog did. He started nudging Mike away from the others. When I saw Mike’s face, I finally realized he’d been on the verge of panicking. The dog got him out of the crowd and off to the side. Mike slid to the floor against the wall and the dog was all over him, licking him and keeping others away from him. After a few minutes, Mike was able to get up and walk outside as if nothing had happened. I paid for the stuff and found him sitting on a bench, back to his old self again. Well, his old, new-normal self. Anyway, if I were you, I’d suggest it to Buck.”

  Ryan sighed heavily. As angry as he was about Regina’s injuries, he knew he couldn’t blame Buck. Ryan might not have PTSD to the extent his friend did, but he did suffer from the occasional nightmare that would scare the devil himself. “I’ll talk to him about it. In the meantime, are you going to drop the charges against him?”

  “Yeah. I’ll head to the station now and tell the guys to
release him. I’ll write it up as a PTSD-related incident, with no intent to harm. He’ll be out within the hour.”

  “Thanks. I’m going to call Justin to go pick him up. Don’t release him before that. He’s got to be freaking out over this, and I don’t want him to be alone and wanting to do something stupid.”

  “No problem.” Josh pulled a business card out of his wallet and handed it to Ryan. “My cell is on the back. If you need anything or want the name of the organization that pairs dogs up with vets, let me know.”

  Ryan took the card with one hand and extended the other for Josh to shake. “Thanks. I appreciate everything.”

  He smiled. “We Grizzlies have to stick together, right?”

  A chuckle escaped him as some of the tension in his body eased. The Largo Ridge High School mascot was a grizzly bear.

  Ten minutes later, Ryan disconnected the call he’d made to Justin, waking him up to tell him to go get Buck from the police station. The guy hadn’t been thrilled with his phone ringing at 4:00 a.m., especially since it sounded like he had someone else in bed with him. But he’d gotten his ass up in a hurry after Ryan had explained what’d happened.

  Assured Buck was taken care of, Ryan leaned against the wall across from the closed door to the suture room and crossed his arms. He had no idea what this was going to do to Buck and Regina’s budding romantic relationship, but he hoped they could get past it. He may’ve been pissed and shocked when Buck had first told him he was dating Gi, but the more he’d thought about it, the more he’d accepted it. After all, if you couldn’t trust your best friend with your sister, who could you trust her with?

  “Thompson, let’s go. You’re being released.”

  Sitting on a hard, wooden slab, that was an incomparable version of a bed, in the jail cell he’d been put in over ninety minutes ago, Buck looked up at the uniformed officer who’d arrested him. “Huh?”

  He was still dressed in the lounge pants he’d put on after reluctantly slipping out of his own bed, leaving Regina sound asleep. The cops had let him put on a T-shirt, jacket, and work boots, which he’d slid his feet into without socks, before cuffing him and putting him in the back of one of the patrol cars. When they’d put him in the holding cell, they’d had him remove his shoelaces and the cord from the waist of the pants. He’d even known why—so he didn’t try to commit suicide. Not that he’d do that. He wasn’t that fucking crazy, although he could see how tonight had taken him one step closer to that point. The average rate of veterans committing suicide per day in the US had dropped to seventeen from twenty. That was a number that was still too damn high. The last thing Buck wanted to be was another statistic, but the PTSD he was dealing with had driven many veterans to end it all—permanently.

  Using a large, steel key, the man unlocked the cell door and slid it open. “Your girlfriend convinced the detective it was an accident. Said you were having a PTSD flashback and didn’t realize it was her.”

  Yeah, that’s exactly what happened, but it didn’t make Buck feel any better about it. It was the exact reason he’d told Regina he couldn’t sleep with her. Now it was apparent he couldn’t even fall asleep with her being in the same house. He’d hurt Regina—badly. His shirt she’d put on had been ripped to shreds—so had the skin on her back, ass, and thighs. He could’ve killed her. The thought sent a shudder through him.

  He must’ve hesitated too long because the officer said, “C’mon. Let’s go. A friend of yours is waiting for you upstairs.”

  Buck doubted it was Ryan—the guy probably wanted to kill him.

  Sighing, he got to his feet and shuffled out of the cell. The officer led him through a wooden door to a room with a desk and a bunch of equipment Buck didn’t recognize. On one wall was a height chart. That was probably where they took photos of prisoners. The big machine in one corner looked like it might be a fingerprint scanner with a monitor attached. They hadn’t taken his picture or his prints. With the charges being dropped, none of this would show on his record, but he felt the guilt worse than if it had been anyway.

  A door opened, and Josh Boyd walked in. They’d run into each other occasionally over the years and had hung out together now and then, but lately, they hadn’t crossed paths much. Josh wasn’t smiling at him, but he also wasn’t frowning. Instead, there was sympathy in his expression. “How’re you doing Buck?”

  “Obviously, not well.”

  The uniformed officer handed him his wallet, jacket, and other stuff, then told him to sign a form confirming he’d received everything they’d taken from him when he’d first arrived at the station.

  Once that was all done, Josh said, “I’ll take him upstairs, Dan, if you want to finish up and head back out.”

  The officer glanced at the clock. It was almost five in the morning. “Thanks. Hopefully, the last two hours of the shift will be quiet.”

  Josh gestured for Buck to follow him to an elevator at the end of a small hallway. When he pushed the call button, the door immediately slid to the right and disappeared into the wall. They rode up one flight in silence, then exited when the door opened again. Josh gently grabbed Buck’s elbow and stopped him in his tracks. “Listen, I saw Regina at the hospital. She’s going to be fine, and she’s more worried about you than she is about herself. I saw Ryan too. He’s obviously upset, but he also understands this was completely unintentional on your part. Regina knows she shouldn’t have gotten that close to you when you were trapped in whatever nightmare you were having.” As the man spoke, Buck couldn’t look at him. The sympathy in his voice was hard enough to deal with—Buck couldn’t take seeing it in his expression too. “When I talked to Ryan, I told him about my cousin who has PTSD issues. He was able to get a support dog, and it was the best thing he could’ve done for himself. You should look into getting one.”

  When Buck just nodded in agreement, not even sure what he was agreeing to because he just wanted to get out of there, Josh continued. “Anyway, Justin’s out in the lobby waiting for you. This way.”

  Buck trailed a few steps behind him until they reached a door leading out into the lobby. Through a small window, he could see Justin sitting on a bench, his head back and his eyes shut. When the door opened, Justin’s eyes flew open, and he jumped to his feet, concern written all over his face. “Hey, you okay?”

  “Yeah, just get me out of here.”

  “Sure.” His gaze shifted to the man who was now standing behind Buck. “Hey, Josh.”

  “Hey, man. Good to see you. Thanks for coming down.”

  “No problem.” He looked at Buck again. “Ready?”

  “Yeah.” He started for the doors leading to the parking lot but then turned around and held his hand out to Josh. “Listen, thanks. I’m sorry we had to see each other like this. I’ll look into what you were telling me about.”

  “Good. I really think a dog might help.”

  Buck shrugged, his gaze darting around to anything that wasn’t the man’s face. “We’ll see.”

  “Good luck.”

  “Thanks.”

  With Justin at his side, not saying a word, Buck strode out into the early morning air, his shoulders sagging in defeat. Yesterday, he’d been the happiest guy around, with the woman he loved by his side. Now, he was going to have to end things with her. He’d never forgive himself for what’d happened, and he wasn’t going to risk it happening again.

  By Saturday, Regina was miserable . . . and bored out of her mind. She’d been forced into at least a four-day weekend because she hadn’t been able to go to work. On top of being doped up on painkillers, she’d been unable to sit for long thanks to the still healing scratches and cuts on her butt and upper thighs. With a few deeper wounds on her back that’d needed stitches, she could only lay on her stomach or her side. Thankfully, those were the ways she was most comfortable when sleeping to begin with.

  When her brother had brought her home from the hospital on Thursday morning, it’d been around 7:00 a.m. He’d gotten her settled into bed
, where the narcotics, lack of sleep, and adrenaline crash had prevented her from keeping her eyes open. She’d awoken three hours later to find Ryan had picked up her prescription from the pharmacist and had taken the day off work to stay with her. By noon, however, his hovering had driven her crazy. She’d told him if he didn’t go to work, she was going to post a few embarrassing photos of him on Facebook and Instagram—like the one of him as a toddler wearing their mom’s high heels and makeup.

  He’d finally relented, and she’d had the house to herself, at least for a few hours. With the new security cameras at the front and back of the house, and new deadbolts on the doors, she felt safe enough to be alone. Ryan could also check the video feeds throughout the day and would get an alert if any of the doors or windows were breached. Not that he could reach her in time if that happened, but the security company had left a small sign at the end of the driveway, announcing the house was being protected by their service. Hopefully, that would scare away the person who’d been targeting Regina. The police still hadn’t come up with a viable suspect.

  Her heart was hurting, and not because of what’d happened, but because of the after-effect. She’d been calling and texting Buck, begging him to talk to her, but he’d ignored all of them with the exception of one text. He’d responded, “I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.” She left voice messages telling him she didn’t blame him or hate him. She loved him and wanted to be with him to get past this. Realistically, she knew he was feeling an enormous amount of guilt and couldn’t face her, but that didn’t help the feelings of abandonment filling her. Unfortunately, she needed another day or two before she was off the drugs and could comfortably sit in the driver’s seat of her SUV and go find him. Whether he liked it or not, she wasn’t letting him go without a fight. Not now. Not after making love to him. She had to convince him that it’d been an accident—one she’d caused. Not him.