We passed two young boys, maybe ten years old, kicking a soccer ball in the dirt, something for them that was so normal even in a violent environment. Any other day I wouldn’t have thought twice about it, but today something seemed off.
I closed my eyes for just a brief moment. Then, everything exploded.
The world erupted in a blinding flash of orange, the force of the blast slamming into us like a physical blow. I felt the Humvee buck and lift in the air, the sound of metal twisting as it tore apart. The air filled with the deafening roar of the explosion, the screams of my fellow brothers right before everything went black.
I’m not sure how long I was out for, but when I woke up I knew right away it wasn’t good. The force of the blast had thrown me several yards from the Humvee. The impact jarring every bone in my body and I could feel a searing pain shooting through my side. When I looked down I saw a jagged piece of metal protruding from my flesh, the blood already soaking my uniform. My left leg was twisted at an unnatural angle, the bone clearly broken, and the back of my uniform was singed, the skin beneath it burned and raw.
Somewhere close by I could hear the gurgling sound of Johnson gasping for his last breath. When I lifted my head and looked around I could see his body had been thrown from the mangled Humvee like a ragdoll. And from what I could tell from this angle, there were raw, shredded stumps where his legs used to be. Riley was slumped in his blackened seat, the entire left side of his face was nothing but a gaping, bloody void. And then there was Miller, or what was left of him, his body was completely blown apart in the initial blast, his magazine disintegrated into a cloud of ash.
The only sound I could hear was the ringing in my ears. I looked around, my vision blurred, my mind reeling. The Humvee was a twisted, charred wreck. The boys with the soccer ball were gone. My unit, my brothers…gone. My world became a swirling vortex of fire and smoke before I passed out again.
I blinked, trying to clear the images of that day from my head. My fingers were curled into a fist to keep my hands from shaking, my breath coming in ragged gasps. I avoided looking at Garrett, the last thing I wanted to see was pity.
“That’s… that’s what happened,” I said, my voice hoarse, barely a whisper. I looked at Garrett, my eyes pleading for understanding. “I was broken, Garrett. I couldn’t… I couldn’t even look at myself in the mirror without seeing their faces. Without hearing their screams.”
I paused, sighing deeply. “I was no good for anyone, so I pushed them away. I know I hurt Ember. There was no way I could tell her what happened. I didn’t want to worry her. And that was the moment I realized my life was constantly at risk. I couldn’t put Ember through that uncertainty, that fear, every single day. She was in college, I wanted her to enjoy herself, not worry about me or wonder if I’d come back in a body bag. She deserved better than that.”
Garrett was quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed on the barn floor. I couldn’t tell what was going through his mind. The last thing I wanted from him, or anyone, was their pity. Finally, when he looked up, I was relieved to see there was no pity or disgust, just understanding.
“Damn, Colton,” he said softly, shaking his head. “That’s…” he paused before blowing out a deep breath, “that’s… fuck. I can’t even imagine…” He trailed off, his voice thick with emotion. “So, how about now? How are you really doing now, Colton?”
Sighing, I replied, “Honestly, I don’t know, man. Most nights I can’t sleep, and when I do I see their faces, I relive that day, over and over. I wake up drenched in sweat, shaking.
Garrett nodded in understanding, his expression grim. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Yeah, I get it. Or… as much as someone who hasn’t been through thatcanget it. Look, what you went through… that’s hell. And I understand why you shut down. But you gotta understand, from our side… from Ember’s side… it just looked like you didn’t care. Like she wasn’t worth even a damn phone call. Or at least a letter.” He paused, his gaze hardening slightly. “Just because I understand what you went through doesn’t mean I’m okay with how you handled things with her. She’s my sister, Colton. And I still don’t want to see her hurt again. Not like that.”
A heavy silence descended between us, the only sounds were the soft neighing of horses in their stalls and the warm breeze as it drifted through the open barn doors, carrying the scent of hay and earth. Garrett’s words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the pain my silence had caused. He was right. Understanding wasn’t an absolution.
Finally, Garrett broke the silence, his voice softer now. “You know, man, you should really think about talking to someone. Someone who understands what you’ve been through. There are people who can help with all the emotional scars you carry.”
I didn’t respond. ‘If only he knew the visible ones too’,I thought, my fingers instinctively tracing the jagged scar hidden beneath my shirt. It was a puckered and jagged line that began just under my left arm to the left of my pectoral muscle. It carved a jagged path downwards across my ribs, as it descended, it curved inward, wrapping around my side before finally ending on the front of my stomach, just above and beside my left hip bone. It was a constant reminder of how close I came to being ripped apart.
Then there were the angry red lines on my back that still throbbed on humid days, the way my left leg ached with a dull, persistent throb. The idea of exposing all of it, the physical and the emotional, felt too overwhelming.
My mind swam with arguments and justifications. ‘Talk to someone?’I thought,‘What could they possibly understand? They weren’t there. They didn’t see what I saw. They didn’t feel the heat, or smell the burnt flesh of my fellowbrothers.’The idea felt intrusive. Opening up to a stranger, reliving those horrors… It felt like tearing open a barely healed wound. ‘And what would I even say? How could I possibly explain the guilt I carried about still being alive when others weren’t, or God… the nightmares that have me waking up gasping for air?’I’m not sure I could. It felt easier, safer, to keep it all locked away, even if it was slowly suffocating me.
“Colton?” Garrett’s voice cut through my internal turmoil. “Are you even listening to me?”
I blinked a couple times before looking at him. “Yeah,” I said, my voice flat. “Yeah, I heard you. I’ll… I’ll think about it.” And I would. I just couldn’t make any promises.
Just then, Garrett’s phone buzzed loudly in his pocket. He pulled it out, glanced at the screen, and sighed. “Damn, gotta go. Look, Colton,” he said, his gaze meeting mine again, a hint of concern still lingering in his eyes. “Think about what I said, alright?” He clapped me on the shoulder, a gesture that felt less like a warning and more like a hesitant offering of support. Then, he turned and headed out of the barn, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
Chapter 15
Ember
It was Friday night and the Last Chance was buzzing. The jukebox was playing a mix of nostalgic rock and today’s country. The air was thick with laughter, the scent of beer and yummy fried food, and the smell of the creek that flowed just outside was coming in from the open doors that led to the back deck.
The Last Chance sat directly across the creek from the swimming hole where my brothers, my friends, and I had spent countless summers. Even from across the creek you could always hear the music drifting from this bar.
Avery and I had claimed a couple of stools at the bar hours ago, and by now things were definitely looking brighter, and a little fuzzy. We were alternating between our favorite Lemon Drop shots and the occasional tequila shot, because, well, why not? I was feeling… good.Reallygood. Like, halfway to channeling my inner Coyote Ugly andattempting a questionable routine on the bar.
My inhibitions had apparently taken a vacation, leaving behind a louder, bolder, and definitely more…flirtatiousversion of myself. It was a side of Ember I rarely let out. Tonight, though, she wanted to let loose and have a damn good time. I was one Lemon Drop away from convincing myself I should crawl up on that bar and shake my ass, which trust me, I don’t think would be nearly as sexy as in the movie. I’d look more like a confused otter trying to climb a slippery rock.
Avery nudged my arm. “Another one?” she giggled, her words starting to slur. She had a mischievous grin on her face, and her cheeks were flushed.
“Why not?” I signaled to the bartender for another round. I raised my empty glass, “To… to questionable decisions and even more questionable men!” I giggled. Tonight was about forgetting. Forgetting the responsibilities with the farm, forgetting my worries, and most definitely forgetting a certain infuriatingly handsome and persistent Colton James.
When the bartender set the next round in front of us, we each grabbed one, clinked the glasses and threw back our shots, the citrusy sweetness followed by the fiery kick of tequila slid easily down my throat.
