Page 73 of When the Stars Fall
In the field across from us, a bunch of kids launched three more bottle rockets. Jude’s back went rigid under my hand and the muscles tensed as if bracing himself for the explosion. I cursed the stupid kids who were doing it. But when we were kids, we used to do the same thing on the Fourth of July. We used to love it. The bigger the bang, the happier it made us.
“Are you okay?” I asked him, even though I knew he wasn’t. It was such a stupid question but I was at a loss. What could you say to a man who had thrown you in a ditch to protect you from fireworks? Not much.
He took a few deep breaths, his eyes on the field and not on me. “Did I hurt you?”
I shook my head, which he couldn’t see because he was staring into the distance and not looking at me. “No. I’m fine. You didn’t hurt me. I’m just worried about you.”
Clearly, that was the wrong thing to say. With a snort of disgust, he got to his feet. “I don’t want you worrying about me. Let’s run.”
Without waiting for me, he took off, running as if he had something to prove. The message was clear. I wasn’t allowed to worry about him.
I wasn’t allowed to mention Reese Madigan’s name. I had no idea how he died. No idea how Jude had gotten shot in the head on that first deployment. When I asked, he shut me down.
All I knew was that Jude returned from his first deployment alive and in one piece but Reese Madigan came home in a flag-draped casket. As I stood in the cemetery on that summer’s day four years ago, with a lone bugler playing TAPS and a Marine in dress blues handing Reese’s mom the folded flag, I’d sent up a silent prayer, “Thank you, God, for not taking Jude away from me.”
And that was my ugly truth. The first of many to come.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Jude
I wason my way to drunk, but not nearly drunk enough. This homecoming party was pure fucking torture. Everyone was expecting me to be happy. To be grateful that I was home, and I could resume my regularly scheduled life.
In the past, whenever I used to come home on leave, I was happy to be here. But now that I was home for good, and back with the girl I used to talk about so much the guys in my unit used to give me shit over it, I felt like I was somewhere I didn’t belong anymore.
It was a shitty feeling, because Iwantedto be happy. I wanted it more than anything.
What purpose did my life have now? Where the fuck was I supposed to go from here? Where did I fit in this world that had gone on without me, just as if there wasn’t a war being fought in the middle of the desert in a godforsaken country?
Nobody cared about all the lives that were lost or all the blood that had been shed. Nobody here cared that it was still going on. They didn’t give a shit. The Fourth of July was just an excuse to set off fireworks, get drunk and throw a barbecue.
Six weeks ago, I was in the rugged mountains of Afghanistan, surrounded by insurgents. Our convoy had been ambushed, our operation compromised. Six dead, four wounded when the truck in front of mine had been hit by a roadside bomb. I must have blacked out. When I came to, I was on the side of the road with no idea how I’d ended up there. Sniper rounds snapped off rocks and fizzed overhead. White phosphorous smoke filled the air and shots ricocheted off the truck I’d just been thrown from.
“We need air support.” I heard Reyes shout into the radio to be heard above the din of the gunfire.
I looked to my right. “Tommy.” Belly down, I dragged my body across the blood-soaked dirt and rocks. “We need to move.”
“I can’t move. I’m pinned down... I can’t fucking move my legs.”
Now I stared at the sparklers on the cake decorated with the stars and stripes. My mom was smiling as she set it in front of me on the table. “We’re so happy you’re home, honey.”
I forced a smile. “Good to be here,” I lied. And it pissed me off that it wasn’t true. Why did I feel so fucking numb, like I was watching my life as if it was a movie, and I was so far removed from it that I wasn’t really living it?
I was surrounded by my family. The people I loved. My dad was talking about the projects he was working on and the construction site he was sending me to when I went back to work on Monday. Gideon was talking to Lila about her new business venture. Jesse was talking about motocross with Brody who was supposed to be at a rodeo but had come home to see me. When he wasn’t on the road, Brody lived in an Airstream on Austin Armacost’s ranch where he still worked as a ranch hand. He was saving money to buy a horse farm and still had big dreams and plans just like everyone else at the table.
My mom asked what I’d missed the most about home and I answered, “Lila. And my family.”
It was the truth and it made my mom smile.
Lila was sitting right next to me but even when she touched me, I didn’t feel it. How could I ever explain this to her? I couldn’t. All I could do was hope and pray that it would change. I’d only been home for two weeks. It had to get better.
I took another swig of beer and forced myself to stay at the table when all I really wanted to do was walk away and be alone. But I couldn’t have walked away if I wanted to. My ears were ringing and my head was pounding so hard, my vision blurred. The ground tilted beneath me and I was so fucking dizzy I felt like I’d just gotten off a ride at the funfair and had been thrown into the house of mirrors.
I reached for Lila’s hand to steady myself and clasped it in mine like it was my lifeline.
Save me, Lila. I’m drowning.
Chapter Twenty-Four
