When he left for the Navy SEALs, his absence was loud in our house.
He left because of our father. Because he didn’t want to grow into the kind of man our father turned out to be. He never told me what he saw, or why it messed him up so much, but he did warn me to get as far away from our old man as I could.
But I didn’t need to heed his warning. Because someone murdered our father before I needed to.
Chance came home for the funeral. But he didn’t cry. It was his duty, he said, to come home and be there for his family. But as for his old man, as far as he was concerned he could rot in hell.
And then he was gone again.
I missed him.
I still did.
Fifteen minutes later, I pulled into my mom’s driveway. All the lights were on in the house. I parked my bike, briefly wondering if old Mrs. Baker from across the road would call my mom and complain about the rumble of a Harley at two thirty in the morning, before I bounded up the front steps to the porch.
Inside, Mom was on the phone, smoking and pacing across the kitchen. Cade was also smoking and pacing across the kitchen, while Ari, my mom’s boyfriend, sat calm but concerned at the twelve-seater dining table.
“What do we know?” I asked, walking in.
Cade came toward me, his face grim. “There was a bomb blast. The details are fucking sketchy. But he survived. Five out of his eight-squad didn’t.”
“Jesus Christ.” I ran a hand through my hair. “When did it happen?”
“Two days ago.”
“Two—why are we just finding out about it now?”
Cade shook his head, agitated, concerned. “Probably because of where he was, which of course is fucking classified.”
Mom hung up from her call and slowly sat down at the head of the table.
“He’s okay,” she said, her usually calm voice was shaky. “He’s on his way back home. They needed to stabilize him before they could evacuate him.”
Cade lit her a cigarette and handed it to her. She accepted it and drew in a heavy breath, exhaling it as if she was trying to exhale her pain.
“Did they say what his injuries were?” he asked.
“They’re bad.” Mom’s chin quivered and Ari reached over, placing his hand on top of hers. “He’s burnt. Badly. Second and third-degree burns to thirty or forty percent of his body.”
I heard Cade exhale deeply next to me.
“What does that mean for him?” I asked.
“Months of rehabilitation. Surgery. They don’t think he’ll lose any of his limbs. It’s going to be a slow healing process.”
Heartbreak and rage crashed violently through me.
“The person I spoke to on the phone said he also had some bad shrapnel wounds. Lacerations, including a life threatening one to his skull.” Tears glittered in my mom’s eyes but she fought them. “They’re taking him to a naval hospital in Maryland. He’ll arrive tomorrow. I’ll get the next flight out.”
“I’ll get it organized,” Ari said, picking up his cell phone and scrolling through flights.
“I’m coming with you,” Cade said.
“No, Indy is about to have her baby any day now. You’re needed here.” Mom drew shakily on her cigarette. “Besides, they won’t let anyone into see him but me.”
“Let me go with you,” I said to her. “Even if I can’t see him.”
“You have a pregnant girlfriend,” she reminded me.
“And she would insist I accompany my mom to visit my injured brother.”
“You both have women carrying your babies. You both need to be here. Not across the country.”
“I’ll go with her,” Ari said, getting up from the table. “I’ll go make some calls.”
Mom tried to swallow back her worry. She was a strong woman, but her Achilles’ heel was her family. We meant everything to her, and if anything happened to any of us, she felt it right through to her soul.
I placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “He’s alive. And when he’s well enough, we’ll bring him home.”
She patted my hand. “I hope so, son.”
Cade sat down at the table next to her. “I’ll ride up to the university tomorrow and tell Chastity.”
“No,” Mom said. “She has exams coming up. Let’s just wait and see what happens before we tell your sister.”
When Mom decided to lie down, and Cade headed home to Indy, I rode home in the darkness with a cool, pre-dawn air whipping at my face. Once home and inside our apartment, I tried to be quiet so as not to wake Honey. I slipped off my hoodie and shook off my boots, and instead of heading for the couch to sleep, I decided to check on her. Seeing her sleeping so soundly made my chest ache with longing. In another time, I would’ve slid into the bed next to her and lost myself in her warmth and the creaminess of her body as I made love to her. Comfort would have been found in making her cry out my name before I lost myself in the pleasure of coming inside her. But those days were past. Now I had to settle for sitting on the edge of the bed and taking a moment to watch her.