Page 22 of Embattled Return

Logan winced and shook his head. “People can be fucked up,” he murmured.

“Agreed.” John reached out and clinked his beer bottle to Logan’s glass, and they both drank. “But I will say, people can only fuck you up as much as you let them. My brother and I are figuring that out. We have families now, and we’re building our lives in spite of what our mother taught us to fear.”

Logan looked down into his glass. He was very aware his childhood hadn’t been normal. His older sister Jana had done what she could to minimize the impact of their father’s issues on the family, but it hadn’t always been enough. Their mother had not been strong, but Jana had, so she’d taken up the slack. It had also painted a target on her back. Logan could remember the look on her face when their parents had come in, drunk off their asses, and Jana had failed to do a chore, or something. It had been terrifying. Jana had tried to take on the world for the three of them, little lion that she was, but she’d been too small herself. More than once they’d ended up in the emergency room, backing up a story that she’d fallen on the playground, or some other lame ass excuse his mother had come up with to explain away their father’s indiscretions.

Clint, their youngest brother, hadn’t helped matters. He’d looked up to Dad, in spite of all of the issues they’d had because of his substance abuse. Within just a few years he’d been out of school and out of control. By sixteen he’d pretty much moved out, running the streets as he wanted with no supervision. Logan knew that Jana had carried the weight of Clint’s decisions on her heart, like she always did, but he had made his own decisions. Now he had the criminal record to prove it.

Jana had encouraged Logan to join the military as soon as he turned eighteen. She’d tried to build up the bullshit about dad being in the military, but in the end, Logan had decided that the Vance military history would end with him in an honorable service record, not the discharge for contraband his father had brought. That had been why he’d joined, to try to make better what his father had ruined.

The Army had done him well and he didn’t regret a second of it. The service had given him something to live for, a structure he’d never had before. Though it had been a serious shock to the system at first, in the end he’d loved the life, and he’d excelled.

Logan thought of his father’s anger when he’d first joined up. It had been an epic fight. Jana was the only one that knew he’d been seeing the recruiter and taking the test, but even she hadn’t known when he was leaving. Logan made sure not to tell anyone until the day before, because he knew what the reaction would be.

His father had turned about ten shades of purple with anger, and his mother had immediately broken into tears.

“You’re going to call that recruiter and tell him you changed your mind, boy.”

Logan could remember the exchange like it was yesterday, though it had been years. He’d straightened, knowing what was coming. The anger on his father’s face had been monumental. “No, sir. I’m eighteen, now, and you’re done telling me what to do.”

The punch had spun him off his feet, but it lacked the force to actually put him on the ground. The old man had lost a lot of his strength as his body wasted away from the alcohol. He hadn’t been able to put them down for a long time.

Jana had been shocked, but secretly elated too. She’d been squirreling her money away for years, a few dollars here, a few more there, hidden very carefully beneath the carpet in her room. Logan knew she’d been staying in the house to protect him, but his joining the Army now allowed her to make her own break, because she didn’t have to protect him anymore.

Logan had already packed his bag in preparation of leaving, so when his father kicked him out of the house, he was ready. Hugging his sister and promising to be in touch, he’d walked out of the house. His mother had cried in the corner, but she hadn’t spoken up against his father. Logan had known she wouldn’t. She’d never protected her kids. She’d been a weeping, cooking decoration in the background for as long as he could remember, and she’d become insignificant to him.

Jana had met him later at a friend’s house, where they’d spent the night. For hours, they’d talked and reminisced, but only about the good things, and Logan had been so reluctant to leave her the next morning.

Jana had smiled that crooked smile of hers, her turquoise eyes shining with pride, and tapped his chin with a finger. “I’ll be fine, Army man. Go make us Vances proud. Do what Dad couldn’t.”

To this day he could hear the words in his mind and see the way the wind tossed her dark, dark hair, standing there on the porch. It had been the last time he’d seen his older sister alive.

“Can you look up old military records? My dad was medically discharged from the Army. Maybe you can find some info there?”

John looked out at the crowd thoughtfully. “I might have to call in a favor, but I think I can. Give me a day or so to figure it out. In the meantime, enjoy yourself. The company is covering the tab. Most of us are Jarheads or Squids, but there might be the occasional Ground Pounder.”

Logan chuckled. He hadn’t heard that slang applied to the Army for a long time. “No Zoomies or Coasties?”

John looked outraged. “Seriously? We have standards at LNF.”

And he rolled away. Logan chuckled and knocked back his glass, swallowing the rest of the beer.

“You should smile like that more often.”

Logan looked up at Marigold, standing beside him. Man, her eyes were green... He shrugged, leaning back in the chair. “Palmer is pretty funny. I can appreciate his friendly fire.”

She made a face as she looked after the man. “Yeah, I guess, in his own sarcastic, fuck-you way, he’s all right.”

Logan shifted his crutches out of the way as she dropped down into the seat opposite him. “Has he found your family?”

“Not yet,” he said, running his thumb over the texture of the wood table. “The details I gave him are pretty sketchy.”

“How did you lose track of your family?” she asked, propping her chin on her hand on the table.

Logan regarded her. Marigold wasn’t being invasive, per se. He would be curious, as well, if he were in her position. “Not sure exactly. I think there was some falling out, but I can’t say for sure. For some reason we moved away from Colorado. We lived in Indiana and Ohio for a while, before finally settling in Virginia. My parents were not the most reliable.”

Marigold snorted. “Sounds like an understatement.”

“It is,” he admitted, “but it’s what I’m willing to say.”

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