Page 117 of Cowboy SEAL Homecoming

“You’re not going to insult me into it. I’m not fighting you.”

“Okay, how’s this—you land a punch on either one of us, even a weak one, and we’ll let this be.”

“Let what be?”

“You, dipshit,” Jack interrupted. “You. You’re a zombie at best, killing yourself at worst. Ruining everything before it’s even gotten off the ground.”

“I haven’t ruined anything. The bunkhouse is almost finished. We’ve had a good calving season, should leave our finances in the black, and—”

“And what about Becca?”

“Fine.” They wanted to fight, then he’d punch the hell out of both of them. He swung at Jack, surprised to find himself stumbling when Jack easily sidestepped out of the way.

Alex found his footing and shook it off. Just needed to clear his head. He knew Gabe’s and Jack’s weak spots. He could exploit them. He fake lunged at Jack, then went after Gabe again, but somehow it didn’t work. He didn’t connect with anyone. Just the hard ground.

He sprawled out there, nothing in his body responding the way it should. He felt shaken and weak, and that wasn’t who he was. He struggled to get up, but it was too much, so he simply rolled over and looked up at the dark clouds encroaching on blue sky.

“You can’t even get up, Alex. When is that going to sink in? You’re killing yourself.”

He had arguments, but he couldn’t seem to verbalize them. Even in his mind, they seemed to simply turn to ash and blow away on the hard wind.

“I’ll be fine. I can fix it.” But even to his own ears it sounded like rote memorization and the words failed to feel right or make sense.

“No, man. You can’t.”

He couldn’t be fixed.

He couldn’t fix it.

It was Mom all over again. Driving into the embankment. Becca demanding more of him than he could safely give. He was not in control. He had no say.

He couldn’t fix this.

Jack and Gabe each grabbed an arm and hauled him to his feet. Even once he was steady enough to stand on his own, they didn’t let go of him.

“When we were discharged, what did the shrink tell us?” Jack asked softly.

“That we were fine.” They had been cleared.

“But that if we stopped feeling fine, it was time to talk to someone,” Jack said, and his voice sounded rough and pained. “I know you got the same talk I did, and I know…it sucks and I don’t want to do it, but this is worse. Watching you do this to yourself is worse.”

Alex swallowed, but his throat was too tight. “I just haven’t figured it out yet.”

“You don’t have to figure it out by yourself. And I don’t just mean the therapist, though I’d say that’d be a hell of a first step. All of us. All we’ve wanted is to help, but you have to let us.”

Alex looked at Gabe. “I was supposed to…” He was supposed to lead. He was supposed to handle his own shit so everyone around him could handle theirs. He’d had to be strong for his dad, prove he hadn’t been damaged by being in that car. Had to be strong for Jack and Gabe because he’d failed them already. Had to be strong for Becca because she deserved better than a broken soldier.

And he couldn’t be.

He thought the admission would break him, turn him into dust where he stood, but something loosened inside of him. Something eased.

“You know that through that gate, a ways down the hill, is Shaw property. Colin’s at school. Monica’s there.”

Alex stiffened, but Gabe’s and Jack’s grips on his arms didn’t ease.

“You gotta make the choice,” Jack said. “It has to be yours.”

“And if you can’t make it for yourself, make it for us. For Becca. For the people who love you and can’t watch you kill yourself like this.”

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