Page 44 of Loving a Warrior

One by one his former classmates emerged from the building, this time dressed in clean, dry clothes. They looked—there was no other word for it than shell-shocked. Despite the grins on their tired faces as they greeted their loved ones, they were obviously drained and running on fumes.

When Shane finally saw Matt trudging toward his room, he muttered a quick prayer and jogged to intercept him, heart in his throat. “Hey.”

Matt froze when he saw him, his mouth dropping open as he did a double take. “I really am delirious.” He started to shuffle off again and Shane blocked his way.

“You’re not hallucinating me, I promise.” He tried a grin.

It didn’t work. Matt’s face darkened with anger even as he swayed a little on his feet. “Yeah, unfortunately not. What the hell are you doing here?”

“I, uh—”

Shaking his head in disgust, Matt pushed past him. “Get outta my fuckin’ way, loser. I need to sleep.”

“I know.” Shane hurried to get in front of him again. “It’s just—I thought maybe you’d want to come home with me. No, not for that,” he rushed on, horrified, when Matt’s lip curled up in a sneer. “Christ, no. I just thought you might be more comfortable in a real bed than on those cardboard mattresses we have in the barracks. It’ll be darker, quieter…” His voice trailed off lamely.

And I really, really want a chance to talk to you.

Clearly debating with himself, Matt looked up at his room, then back at Shane, then back at his room, his face pale with exhaustion. “Well, those beds suck ass.”

A cautious relief surged. “They do.”

“And you’ll make sure I get back here by noon tomorrow for medical check?”

“Of course.”

“Okay. I can’t believe I’m doing this, but gimme a sec.” Pulling himself painfully up the stairs to his room, Matt reappeared a short time later with a backpack over his shoulder. Shane resisted the urge to offer him help, slowing his steps to match Matt’s hobble.

“You look…bad.”

“Says the quitter.”

Shane winced but didn’t reply. This wasn’t the time, and besides, he wasn’t at all sure Matt would remember any of this later. He looked like he’d been dragged through the streets of hell by a particularly sadistic cat.

Matt tossed Shane his keys, and once in the truck, fumbled with the lever to recline his seat. The simple task seemed beyond him, so he tried propping his elbow on the center console with his cheek in his hand but it kept slipping off. Finally Shane reached over and pulled Matt’s head against his shoulder. With a sigh, Matt burrowed in, and he was asleep before they even left the base.

Shane drove the short distance as carefully as he could, Matt’s quiet snores filling the small cab. After he’d rolled to a stop in his driveway, he patted Matt’s cheek.

“Wakey, wakey.”

No response.

Shane tried a few more times to rouse him, at last easing his shoulder free and hurrying around to the passenger side. He unbuckled Matt’s seat belt and grabbed his legs, pulling them toward him so that Matt was slumped sideways in his seat.

He took him by the shoulders and gave him a gentle shake. “Matt, you need to walk into the house and then you can sleep. C’mon.”

Matt mumbled something but couldn’t seem to make his brain engage, so at last Shane said loudly, “Go get wet and sandy!”

Matt’s eyes popped open and he leapt to standing, shouting, “Hooyah!” As he looked wildly about for a beach, Shane slipped his arm around his waist and guided him toward the house. He ended up half-carrying him most of the way, Matt’s body shutting down as the willpower that had kept him going all week finally gave up the ghost.

Shane wrestled his T-shirt over his head and got his sweatpants off before helping Matt lie down on the soft bed. He made sure his legs were elevated with a few pillows to keep the swelling down, then pulled the fluffy duvet over him and tucked him in like a child. In seconds Matt was dead to the world, and Shane lingered, studying him.

He was thinner, much thinner. Scrapes and bruises covered almost all of his visible skin and his fingers were swelling up like sausages as the fluid pooled in his extremities. His body was clearly in revolt and it was a little disquieting to see Matt lying there so defenseless, so vulnerable.

Unwilling to leave him just yet, Shane puttered around the room, listening to Matt’s heavy, rhythmic snores. Ugh, he was gonna feel like shit when he woke up.

“I’ll be here when you do,” he whispered, at last tiptoeing toward the door. “Sleep well, Soup. You earned it.”

All throughout the rest of the day, Shane checked on him every hour or so. There wasn’t much movement from the bed, but sometime late evening he heard a muffled thumping. He hurried into the bedroom to find Matt on his feet.