Page 6 of Desolation

I can only hope Dax gets home soon. I need to figure this out quickly. I want to get home to my babies. End the lies here. End the lies I told my husband.

I just want this all to end.

But I can’t help but feel this entire whirlwind started because of me.

Chapter Three

Landon

The crack of a cue stick against balls shakes me from my thoughts.

“Yo Stud, you sure you don’t want a beer? You keep gazing off.”

I look over at Colton, one of my friends from the SEALs, and shake my head. “Nah man, I’m good.”

“Still not drinking?”

I could lie to him and say I do but what’s the point. After losing my mind and getting kicked out of the SEALs, there is no point in lying. “Yeah man, still not drinking.”

He takes a sip of his beer. “You doing okay?”

I grab my pool stick and line up a shot in the corner and sink it. “Yep. Great.”

“I heard you interviewed at Cole Security Forces. You get in?” Colton asks me as he watches me sink my second shot.

“Yeah.”

“Holy shit, man, that’s awesome. It will be just like being with us.”

His words make me miss my next shot. Because it won’t be like that. It won’t be the same. There is nothing I miss more than being a SEAL. My life dream was to be a SEAL. Ever since my brother got into the Marines when he was eighteen, I knew I wanted to be like him but better. I knew from the day I turned thirteen that I would be a SEAL. Too bad my piss-poor attitude made it take longer than I thought. The same fucking attitude that got me discharged.

I grunt as I watch Colton.

“Wow, don’t sound so excited over it. I heard that Jackson Cole runs a badass business and he is overly selective.”

I shrug.

Colton sets the pool stick down and stares at me. “Come on Landon, you need to be happy you got in. I know you miss the SEALs. Fuck man, it was your dream but shit happens. We all have to get out eventually.”

I grit my teeth as I talk. “Most of us get discharged because of injury. I fucked up my entire career because of Sam.”

“I don’t mean to be a dick.”

“Yes, you do.” I cut him off.

“Sam’s death wasn’t your fault.”

I crack my knuckles. “Close enough.”

“Dude, you need to get over it.”

“Tell that to my therapist.”

Colton picks the pool stick back up. “Your mind is never going to stop thinking that way unless you try.”

“The only way I will feel better is if I can get my goddamn ass back to the desert and fix shit.”

Colton looks at me over his shoulder where he was about to take a shot. “You and me both know that won’t fix a thing.”

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