Afterward, she’d returned to Oklahoma to live with Nana in her childhood home because she hadn’t known where else to go. But she’d felt detached from everything—from the brother- and sisterhood of the army, from the Kiowa community her granny had been her main connection to before she’d passed. Dani had not only lost a husband; she realized she’d lost so much of herself. Sometimes, that feeling resurfaced even now from how she’d closed herself off to so many things ever since.
Did you know how much you took with you when you left?
She’d first read that question in a book about grief, and it had sucker-punched her with the devastating clarity it shined on some of what she’d felt and thus had always stuck with her.
As had the motto of the grief group she’d gone to for a while: Keep fucking going. She’d been all about that for years now, which was why she had exactly one tattoo: the letters K.F.G. on the inside of her ring finger on her left hand. She’d gotten it the day she finally managed to take off her wedding ring, about eighteen months after Anthony died. Dani had seen it as switching out one promise for another. The promise to survive in exchange for the lives they’d pledged to each other.
The cell vibrated in her palm, jarring her out of her thoughts. A text from Billy.
I probably have more flexibility than the rest of you so I’ll cover whatever anyone else can’t.
Another text followed a minute later, from Mo this time. I can handle evenings or nights any day.
Dani managed a smile as she read the exchange. This was one of the things that military people did so well—come together no questions asked to take care of one of their own. None of them were active duty anymore, of course, but WFC had brought them together in the same way.
As a family. A found family.
Really, the only one Dani had since she’d lost both her parents young, her granny when she’d been in high school, her grandfather just before she’d graduated from the University of Oklahoma, and her nana, the grandmother who raised, her just eight months after Anthony—which was when she’d left Oklahoma and moved to D.C. She would never forget where she came from, but there was nothing left for her there anymore. Nothing but ghosts.
She’d made friends here among the hospital staff, of course, but she was still closer to some of her WFC friends than she was with anyone else.
“No!”
Sean’s shout came out of nowhere. It catapulted Dani’s heart into her throat and nearly made her drop her phone. The coughing fit that followed had him hugging a pillow to his chest as she flew to his side.
“Hey, you’re okay,” she said, imagining the memory of that truck coming at him was going to trouble his dreams for a while. Poor guy.
He finally sagged back against the inclined mattress, and for a second he looked a hundred years old. It was the cast of his eyes that gave that impression, and it tugged hard at something inside Dani’s chest. “If you say so, D.”
When had he ever given in on anything so easily? “I do. Or I’ll kill your stubborn ass.”
He chuffed out a humorless laugh. “Some of the best love stories start with a murder.”
The phrase “love story” poked at the part of her brain responsible for her fight or flight reflex. “Uh, dude, your head took quite a hit if you think we’re in a love story.”
Sean winked, and while the little gesture read as amused, the rest of his face didn’t quite follow. “Relax. It’s from ‘Deadpool’.”
“How often do you quote that movie and I not realize that’s what you’re doing?” She asked the question because she was curious, but also because she wanted to steer them far, far away from the love story topic.
“Prolly a lot.” He heaved as deep of a breath as he could, wincing as his lungs expanded. “Would you please get me some water?”
Did Sean Riddick just say please? Under any other circumstances, she would’ve razzed him for it or suspected him of wanting something. But there was nothing except sincerity in his voice.
Dani grabbed the cup and brought the straw to his lips. No jokes about sucking this time. No flirting or humor or brave front. It was like that nightmare had exposed all the hurt beneath those masks, and that thought made Dani want to help him. Sean never seemed anything but strong to her. His body, his personality, his bravery. Seeing him vulnerable kinda stole her breath with the wrongness of it.
So when he was done with his drink, she eased down onto the edge of his mattress, her hip against his. Still, he didn’t meet her gaze. So she cupped the side of his face in her hand.