Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
“Doubt it. Not unless I leave the teams, and that’s not happening.” He might be asking Spencer to choose between him and the book, but Spencer was doing the same thing, asking him to consider leaving the men he considered family, the life he’d had since he was a green eighteen-year-old.
“Yeah, I heard you made chief. Would you like me to put together a packet of resources for your boyfriend? Sometimes hearing from other military families can make all the difference...”
Bacon had to blink because he wanted a future where Spencer might need those resources more than he could even say, a future where he brought Spencer to base functions, made sure he had support when they deployed...
“That’s not the issue,” he said gruffly. That future was nothing more than a pretty little dream. It wasn’t something Spencer wanted. “Listen, are we almost done? I promised a buddy I’d stop by his room in the rehab unit after my appointment.”
“That’s right. Your former teammate is still in the amputee unit.” She glanced down at her notes. “That’s nice of you to visit. I want to see you again. Tuesday. And if anything comes up over the weekend, you have our crisis-line number, right?”
“Right.” Bacon knew she was just doing her job so he didn’t tell her that he wasn’t in crisis, instead scheduling his follow-up and heading out of the office. But he wasn’t. Crisis implied an active situation he could fix. He wasn’t in crisis. He was in mourning, grieving what he could have had with Spencer, all the silly little dreams he’d started to nurture. And he should have known better. He wasn’t someone who got happy endings. He’d thought maybe Jamie had zapped his ability to fall completely, head-over-heels in love again, but Spencer had proved him wrong, shown him all the romance he’d been missing from his life.
And now it was gone, and he had to find a way forward. Which he would. He had faith in his own resilience, but fuck, slogging through the middle of this sucked. He stopped at the truck for the container of cookies he’d asked his mom to make Donaldson—the guy had a thing for oatmeal raisin, and Bacon tried not to come empty-handed when he visited the rehab unit. Last time, he’d brought him a new card game to play with his kids, and Donaldson’s wife had sent him a handwritten thank-you card.
“Hey, man,” he said at the door to the room. As usual, Donaldson was slumped in the bed. “Heading out with the guys later, and I wanted to bring you a six-pack of your own, but regs said no alcohol. Brought you some of my mom’s cookies instead.”
“Rather have the beer.” Donaldson’s voice was flat. “But thanks. Kids are coming later. They’ll like them. Don’t know why Monica keeps bringing them around. Gotta be boring as fuck for them here.”
“Uh, because they love you?” Bacon was ill-equipped to deal with his own bad mood let alone someone else’s. “And you’ve got to be close to going home, right?”
“Wrong.” Donaldson almost spat the words. “They’re transferring me back to the surgical floor later today. Got an infection in what’s left of my leg. A-fucking-gain. Surgery in the morning.”
“I’m sorry. You need help with the kids tomorrow so Monica can be here with you? I’m not the best with kids, but I’ve babysat for Wizard a couple of times and everyone lived.”
“Don’t know.” Donaldson shrugged, which must have caused him some pain because he winced.
Bacon pulled out his phone. “I’m gonna text Monica, make the offer.”
“Why are you so damn nice to me?” Donaldson’s voice went ragged. “We both know we were never besties.”
“You’re my brother,” Bacon said without hesitation. “About five years ago, maybe six, we were over in the sandbox, long deployment. We were outside the wire, and you’re the driver as usual, and you see something in the road. You swerve hard, throw me against the door. You always did have the best reaction time of anyone on the teams, but I curse you out because it fucked up my shoulder. We stop to investigate and it’s an IED. You saved us, man. Wouldn’t even let us buy you a beer when we were back Stateside.”
Donaldson grunted like maybe he remembered too.
“Didn’t matter that you lived to beat my ass at cards. Didn’t matter that you never really liked me or whatever. Didn’t matter that I hated your politics. You saved me. Countless times like that over the years. We’re brothers.”
“Yeah, but I’m worthless now. Never gonna save anyone again. Fuck my reaction time. It’s not gonna do me any good out here collecting disability checks.”
“You’re worth something to Monica. To those kids. To everyone who calls you friend. Monica said you guys have a church—I’m sure you’re worth something to them. And I heard about another SEAL, friend of a friend of a friend, he lost both legs and now he teaches school. Got himself a whole different career now.”