Her All Along

The sound wasn’t necessarily loud; in fact, at this level, it came out as static. As fragments of fear, pleas, desperation, and heartbreaking hurt. It could be hoarse and wheezing and cut off by gasps and whimpers.

Spring had arrived. I was outside working on the deck, and I heard Pipsqueak from across the playground; she screamed my name, and I just knew. By the gut-wrenching wail of despair in her scream, I knew we’d lost Jake.

As my eyes flooded with tears, I somehow managed to function on autopilot. I grabbed my phone and clenched my jaw, then zipped up my hoodie and made my way across my yard. I jumped over the picket fence and picked up the pace until I was running. My breath misted in the chilly air, and my beanie was damp with sweat after I’d worked outside all morning.

Please tell me I’m wrong.

Pipsqueak stood there on the bike path that went through the playground and led to her street, and she was fucking shaking. And crying.

“Come on, sweetheart.” I grabbed her hand, and we jogged back to her house.

“You—you have to c-call the others,” she sobbed.

I swallowed my emotions and nodded once.

A black SUV with government plates was parked outside the Quinns’ house.

Pipsqueak whimpered and covered her mouth with her free hand, and I pulled her closer to me as we slowed down to a walk. Darius was the first Quinn brother in my contact list, and I called him first.

“You can go inside, Pipsqueak. I’ll call your brothers.”

She shook her head and wiped at her face. “I don’t wanna be in there.”

My stomach tightened at the sound of Darius’s yawned, “Damn, I overslept. Hey.”

“Get over to your parents’ house, buddy.”

I was met with a stretch of silence, and maybe he’d heard something in my voice. It wouldn’t surprise me. Whether he was in the private sector or not, he knew the military as well as Ryan and Jake and their father. This was their life.

“Darius, you have to come home,” Pipsqueak croaked.

Darius released a breath and cleared his throat. “I’ll be right there. Does Lias know?”

“Not yet, I’m—”

“I’ll call him.” With that, Darius hung up the phone.

“You don’t have to call Ryan,” Pipsqueak sniffled. “The officer said they’d notify Ry at his base.”

I swallowed. Ryan was stationed at Camp Pendleton in California, but I assumed he’d be allowed to come home for a while.

Next, I called Ethan.

Jake had been killed in action during an ambush in a mountain village in southern Afghanistan. Rebels had been using young children as shields, which had caused Jake’s superior to call off the close-air-support by the Air Force unit that’d been in the area to assist them. During the squad’s brief hesitation to fire back, the rebels had gotten the upper hand and killed Jake and eight others.

Jake was awarded the US Army Distinguished Service Medal for having barricaded an underground shelter before he’d been killed, thus ensuring the survival of twelve rebel hostages that they’d freed, as well as the only surviving service member of Jake’s unit.

I’d seen Jake’s father annoyed, I’d seen him worried, and I’d seen him shout furiously at politicians on the news. But watching him accept the medals and ribbons that summed up Jake’s career and life in the Army… It unleashed a rage within him that would scare most people half to death.

I did what I could. I took a week off from work to accompany the family to Virginia where the funeral would be held, and I did my best to shove aside my own grief and be there for Pipsqueak and her mother. Willow had long since shut down and gone nonverbal, and she alternated by plastering herself to Ethan and Darius. She didn’t speak; she didn’t cry. When left alone, she sat on the couch, her bed, or on the floor, and just rocked back and forth.

After we’d arrived at our hotel outside of DC, we were served a light buffet in a closed-off area of the breakfast hall, where a team from the Army guided the family through the funeral arrangements. Given the number of soldiers who’d fallen, they were organizing a bigger memorial for the squad.

I listened with one ear, but I put most of my focus on Pipsqueak. Right now, she and Ryan were grabbing some food from the buffet, and she was in a decent mood for the time being. Unlike her sister, Elise didn’t shut down as easily or frequently. Instead, she went through different stages of grief every day, forward one step, backward two steps, and vice versa. She was difficult to predict.

“Avery.” Mary scooted closer to me and put her hand over mine. “I want to say thank you.”

I furrowed my brow. “For what?”

She chuckled softly and patted my hand. “For being an amazing brother to my children, of course. I don’t know what Elise and Darius would do without you.”