"They did this to their own people," one of my guys said in disbelief, and I just looked over at him, I held the gun in my hand as we walked past what looks like a church. A couple of people are now in the street with us.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a little girl with brown hair, she looked straight at me. My breath stopped as she turned and walked into the building. My feet moved as I followed her and called out. “Stop,” I said, knowing she wasn’t going to understand. She walked into the front door, and when I got in there, I saw baby bassinets everywhere. I stopped in the middle of the room, my body bent over to pick up a disregarded doll. The blond hair was matted, and she had burn marks all over her, the plastic melted in some spots. Movement to the side made me look back at the little girl who stood there and smiled at me. I looked into her eyes and then saw the grenade in her hand as she dropped it on the floor. I yelled right before it exploded.
I gasp as if I just came up from holding my breath underwater. Sitting up in the bed, I feel wetness all around me. It takes a second for me to gather my bearings and remember where I am. Using the light from the bathroom, I see that I’m in a king-size bed. "Home,” I say to myself. “I’m home." I look down, and drops of sweat drip off me.
Swinging my legs off the bed, I look down at the pink and snarly scar on my leg that goes from the middle of my thigh to my knee. I get up, and the skin pulls tight as I walk over to the bathroom and dim the lights. After turning the shower on, I turn to look at myself in the mirror. My eyes go to the scar on my side that I got while on a training exercise, making me think back.
I arrived at base more excited than I’ve ever been in all my life. Arriving in Georgia, I couldn’t wait to start and woke up before everyone else. It was a sixty-two-day Ranger program, and I finished at the top of my class. My body had bulked up during this. I closed myself off from my family and my life back at home, deleting all forms of social media and even suspending my cell phone. I called home once a week on Sunday using the base phone, but other than that, my life was on training. I worked my way up the ranks and trained with some of the baddest sons of bitches who ever walked the earth. I would die for each of my brothers, and I knew they would for me, too.
When I went on my first deployment, I got another cell phone, but I drew the line at social media until Quinn and Willow had a baby. I followed just my family, and by then, my life was very different from theirs. They followed me as I toured the world, and to be honest, in the past six years, I’ve missed them a total of two times—on my first Christmas without them and when Harlow graduated. Other than that, I was okay.
I hang my head as the water streams over me, my eyes closing when I see that little girl again, and I quickly open my eyes.
"The mind is a tricky place," the psychiatrist said when I went in for a mandatory evaluation after I arrived in Germany. "Sometimes, it locks memories, only for them to come out when we least expect it."
Turning the shower off, I grab a white towel and wrap it around my waist, walking from the master bedroom toward the kitchen. Turning on the lights and looking at the kitchen, I shake my head. My mother has definitely renovated this kitchen in the past two years. Everything is white.
The massive island in the middle of the room has a marble white and gray countertop with three silver lights hanging over it. I walk to one of the cupboards and open it, trying to find coffee. Once I do, I start the coffee and walk back to the bedroom, slipping on a pair of boxers and shorts. The aroma of coffee fills the house, and I grab a mug to fill up.
Walking out to the backyard, I sit on the porch step and look up at the sky. The black sky is turning a soft gray right before it turns a soft pink. I try not to think about the last time I saw this sky. I try not to think about Hazel and the last time I saw these stars. I put her back in the safe box of memories I’ll take to the grave. I drink my coffee, watching the sun wake up and shine down.