Page 43 of The Infinite Light of Dust

“I love you, Karina.”

After she left I got into my truck and brought Elodie and Fischer with me to my duplex. I needed his help today or the drywall would never get finished by the end of the week. He insisted that Elodie come with us, as he didn’t want her to be at home alone, and neither did I—not until we knew what mental state Phillips was in. I got a text from Mendoza saying that Phillips was staying with someone from his old platoon, but he didn’t know who. That it had been so quiet and no one had heard from him except for hearsay was concerning. I’d been in my Karina bubble the last thirty-six hours. I debated calling him, but I knew Phillips saw me as his enemy now that I had so clearly chosen a side. Now that we were back near post, I hated the idea of not knowing his next move, or if he even had one. In hopes that the other night was a one-off, I put my phone on the counter and got my ass to work.

I was so lost in the manual labor of using my hands and mind to build something that I hadn’t realized that Fischer had stopped helping me. I no longer heard him talking to Elodie or any tools being used. I wiped the sweat off my face with the bottom of my debris-covered T-shirt and made my way through the mess to find him. Elodie was in the living room of my side of the duplex, sitting cross-legged on the couch watching a show on my barely used TV, but he wasn’t there with her. I passed her and listened closely, following the trail of his voice outside to my front yard. I stood in the doorway but didn’t open the door right away.

“I’ll send you the money as soon as I can. I’m working more this week,” Austin said into the phone.

I shifted my body sideways so he would be less likely to see me listening. This little fucker better not owe people money or be using again. I would kill him.

“Are you really going to come here?” he asked whoever was on the other line.

My blood began to boil, my suspicion growing high. Who the fuck was going to come here? With their father’s warnings to me and the situation with Phillips, the last thing any of us needed was someone coming to Fischer to get money he owed them.

“Okay. I’ll figure it out. Be safe, okay?” he told them and hung up the phone.

As soon as he stepped inside, I grabbed him by the collar of his T-shirt and slammed him into the wall. “What the fuck are you thinking?”

His entire face went pale and his eyes widened; shock didn’t begin to describe the widening of his light eyes.

“What? How long were you standing there?” he asked, trying to push me back by his elbows.

I pushed forward, pinning him against the wall. “Long enough to know that I’ve worked my ass off to get you into the Army and you’re fucking up again.” I searched his face, waiting for an explanation. “You better not lie to me. I heard you. You owe someone money and they’re going to come after it. As if you don’t have enough people trying to come after you.”

I could barely contain my anger. I needed him to make it to and through basic, to make a living and have health care, to have stability for once in his life and stop letting his impulses control him. For himself and for Karina. It was the least I could do.

“Are you using again? Empty your pockets.” I let go of him with one arm, knowing one was enough to hold him still, and dug my free hand into his pockets, dumping them both onto the floor.

A debit card, a key chain, and his phone fell to the ground. Nothing more.

“What the fuck, man. Get off me!” he shouted, pushing at my unwavering grip on him. “I’m not on anything! I haven’t even had a damn drink! Let me go!”

Elodie came rushing to the door. “What’s happening?” she shrieked, yanking at my arms to let him go. I dropped my grip, stepped away from him, and her hands flew up in the air. “Why are you guys fighting? Tell me!” she demanded.

Our breath was wild, and my anger began to melt away as I saw how shaken up Elodie was. She had been through enough, and here I was sending her into a panic. Fuck.

“Nothing, just a misunderstanding and him jumping to thinking the worst of me. As usual,” Fischer said, his eyes filled with moisture. I could feel the hurt in them as he picked his stuff up from the floor and grabbed the front-door handle.

“I want to get out of here,” he told Elodie, not looking at me.

“Fischer, why don’t you—” I began. All he needed to do was tell me what the hell was going on with the phone call I’d just heard.

“Martin, why don’t you just fuck off with your holier-than-thou shtick. You kept feeding me bullshit, saying how great I was doing, how proud of me you were, how I would make a great soldier.”

His voice broke and he began to cry, trying his hardest to stop but failing.

“All that just to accuse me of being high in one flash of a second. Fuck you for making me believe you actually thought I had a chance,” he spat, flinging the door open.

Elodie looked confused and afraid but followed him out of the house, and they got into her car. I watched them drive away, hearing his words repeat themselves, echoing through my mind as I slammed the door and slid down the back of it.

About twenty minutes later, a knock at my door made me stand up. Assuming it was Fischer, I opened it, ready to apologize for being so quick to jump to the worst-case scenario when he had been doing so good lately, even passing a drug test two days ago. My worry for him and his future clouded my judgment, and I was about to begin my sincere apology when I realized it wasn’t Fischer at my door—it was Phillips.

Chapter Twenty-two

Kael

“What the hell are you doing here?” I stood up straight, mentally clocking how long it would take me to grab my gun if I needed to.

Phillips seemed to have lost all his rage-induced energy from the other night. His eyes were sunken in, his face more pale than usual, and his cheeks hollow. Purple and blue bruises covered the span of his left cheek all the way down to his jaw, and his neck had a red ring around it . . . all from my hands. To my surprise, he didn’t smell like alcohol and seemed alert, for the most part.

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