Page 128 of Oblivion

“She’s already prepping and planning meals, so yes, Lotus, that’s more than okay.”

A half-hearted smile formed on my mouth. I missed Mei’s demanding ways and her ability to single-handedly take charge and feed an army—literally—whenever we hung at her home.

It absolutely sickened me that my first time catching up with them since leaving was under these circumstances.

I grunted and ran a hand down my face. “Tell her I say thanks.” I sucked in another restricted inhale. “Look, I’ve gotta go, brother. But I’ll see you tonight.”

“Meet you at the airport, Lote.”

“Yep,” I muttered, then disconnected with a sigh of relief.

Sure, we were as tough as nails and in a military class of our own, but that didn’t mean we had a complete inability tofeel.While we were good at locking away all the shit from deployments and hiding it from partners and family, this time was different. This time our team was torn in two, and we were thrown into grief as a collective. There was no choice but to break and stumble right alongside of our brothers.

I swapped my phone for the half-drunk bottle of beer on my bedside table, and took a long swig. Bunking work and day-drinking was absolutely acceptable in times like these.

The moment my phone came to life again, I got a wave of anger. I wanted to be left the fuck alone. Couldn’t Penny take a damnhint?

Irritation morphed into resignation when Jackson’s name flashed up on the screen. I tapped the call-accept button while taking another hasty swig.

“I’ve been meaning to call you.”

A solemn timbre colored his deep voice. “Are you okay? I just heard about Shane.”

I hissed a curse and hung my head. “Yeah. No. Fuck, I dunno, man.”

“When are you heading up there?”

Notif, when.He knew askingifI was going was a stupid damn question. I was going to Kentucky, even if I had towalkthe two thousand miles barefoot.

“Flying up this later this afternoon,” I mumbled. “Do you mind if I take next week off? Funeral is on Monday and the burial is Wednesday down in Georgia, and—”

“No need to explain. Take the week and be with your brothers. You’ll need each other to get through this.”

“Thanks,” I murmured, still in utter disbelief that I was sitting here planning how to get to my best friend’s funeral.

“I’ll head up Sunday sometime,” Jackson added.

They’d served together in Iraq, and deployments like those created brotherships for life, even across the services.

I studied the beer hanging from my fingertips. “Guess I’ll see you there.”

“You will. Take it easy, brother, and let me know if we can do anything.”

“Thanks.”

Mercifully, Jackson kept our conversation short, disconnecting after a hum of acknowledgement.

I finished the beer and set the bottle aside. I wouldn’t drink myself into oblivion this afternoon; that was what tonight, tomorrow and Saturday nights’ were for.

Sunday we would recover from the three-day bender. Monday, we would grieve. Tuesday, we would nurse another hangover. Wednesday, we would lay our brother to rest, then head home to lick the wounds in our hearts.

Fully packed and tickets booked for the six hour flight to Fort Campbell, Kentucky, I flicked Jenny a text.

Dante: I get in at 2200. See you then.

Chen: See you then, brother. Mei will drive. I’ll already be drunk.

CHAPTERFORTY-EIGHT

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