Page 27 of Embracing Trust

Come on. Let’s get through this. What’s taking so long?

I crane my neck toward the driver’s side window of my truck and notice the pilot car leading a long line of followers toward me. My chest tightens and my mouth goes dry.

Great. This is going to be a while.

I creep forward a few car lengths more and eventually come to a complete stop while my lane waits their turn to be escorted by the pilot car. I lean my head back on the seat and close my eyes for a moment and concentrate on the cool air hitting my face.

Just breathe. You’re not trapped. You’ll be home soon.

My eyes pop open as my concerted effort of calmness is interrupted by a hydraulic jackhammer attached to an excavator as it breaks up the highway next to me. My ears ring at the crash of the initial contact with the pavement, the quick repetition of the hammer as it breaks away the concrete and sends a light coat of dust—almost like the sand of the desert.

I squeeze my eyes closed. I’m back in Afghanistan in the truck and we’re rolling down the road. I wasn’t with Preston, Hartwig, and Burbach that day. I was one vehicle back with Peter Crow and a few other newbies. I was training them.

The flash is followed by a blast that deafened me, and my ears rang as the gruesome scene unfolded before our eyes. Our windshield was pelted with pieces of metal and rocks. Flames engulfed their vehicle and once the gas tank ignited, the vehicle exploded. The fire and melting steel burned my eyes and throat. My screams rang out as the chaos ensued. The road that was once flat is now jagged and buckled as we watched in horror. My brothers did not survive. Every day I live, knowing I should’ve died.

I hear the honk of other vehicles and when I open my eyes, the traffic in front of me is being led by the pace car. My sweaty hands slip on the steering wheel as I fight to inhale a few cleansing breaths. It’s practically an eternity before we’re back on the highway at a regular speed.

Just hold on. Almost outta here.

I find my first opportunity to pull off in a parking lot and bail out of the truck. My hands shake and I swallow hard as I fight back the lump forming in my throat.

I pace around the truck until my hands stop shaking. Once I can take a normal breath, I slip into the driver’s seat and pull onto the highway again. The contentment I felt just an hour ago has been replaced with an overall feeling of numbness. The motivation is barely there to finish the trip back to Monroe.

Once I hit the front door of Patrick and Lydia’s, I head straight to my bedroom, shut the door, and sit on my bed until the shaking subsides.

All I want is to find my normal once again.

Chapter Fourteen

Julia

Merilee is sitting on my bed when I emerge from my walk-in closet wearing the new black dress and heels.

“Good enough for a dinner party?” I check my reflection in the mirror.

Every girl dreams of a little black dress that is perfect for parties and makes her feel like a million bucks. I must admit, this dress does exactly that for me.

“Perfect. It screams classy.”

I give Merilee a pointed look. “Well, I hope it doesn’t scream too loud, because you know how much I hate this kind of thing.”

“You’re going to be fine.” Merilee scoots back on my bed, rearranges my pillows, and leans back against the headboard as she admires my outfit.

The dress hem lands just above my knee with a straight skirt, fitted waist, cap sleeves, and a plunging V-neck. The black pumps are new and not what I would have chosen for myself, but Merilee talked me into them on our afternoon shopping trip.

“Not too much cleavage?” I joke as I attempt to push my chest out.

Merilee snorts. “You wish.”

I snicker.

“You don’t have to be brand name,” she says as she gives air quotes to brand name. “You look great and just because you’re going to be with new people doesn’t mean you won’t fit in.”

And there it is. She easily senses my fears. I feel awkward and uncomfortable in new situations sometimes—especially when I’m around people I don’t know. I would much rather be alone at home reading a book, watching an old movie, or walking the beach taking photos of the sand and water.

After Merilee leaves, I check my reflection three more times. I sift through the hangers in my closet, and I’m tempted to change into something that feels more like me—a khaki skirt, white tee, and ballet flats, or a floral sundress with strappy sandals. As soon as Luke introduces me, I’ll probably do something embarrassing like fall or trip on some furniture. I go into the bathroom and check my hair. Most days I wear my hair in a simple ponytail but tonight I’m wearing it down with loose curls.

Luke arrives in his luxury sedan to pick me up and he drives to Dr. Hamilton’s home in Carter Cove. I’ve been to Carter Cove a few times, but it’s mostly gated communities. There are a few high-end and designer clothing boutiques, but not something I can afford.

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