Page 41 of Trusting a Warrior

“Dude...”

“My task unit is fully supportive,” Matt went on, “although the El-Tee says I can’t serve in the same platoon as my boyfriend anymore.” He chuckled. “One of us has got to go.”

Geo stumbled over his own feet, saved in the nick of time by Matt’s strong grip on his biceps. “Your boyfriend is in your platoon?” he croaked. “Jesus Christ.”

“Well, we didn’t plan it that way,” Matt said, laughing. “We met in BUD/S, got assigned to different platoons, and then somehow Shane ended up in mine.”

“Shane?” Now Geo stopped short, his eyes widening. “The wounded guy you kept driving for?”

Matt’s smile faded. “Yeah. Lieutenant Bradley says he never wants us put in that position again. Shane and I know how to keep things professional at work, but one of us dying in front of the other, well, that’d be hard to come back from.”

“No shit.” Geo stood frozen, still gaping at him. For Matt to have kept on driving while the man he loved was bleeding to death a few feet away...

At last Geo held his knuckles out for a bump. “Goddamn, son. Respect.”

Matt’s eyes held a tinge of relief even as he grinned. “Thanks.”

They resumed walking, feet scuffing along the pavement. After a moment, Matt said, “My uncle went to Cade’s funeral. There, uh, weren’t a lot of people there, I guess.”

Including Geo. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to go, the anger and guilt flooding him too strong. Besides, how could he face Renae?

“He was a good man, Matt. The best. I—” Geo couldn’t go on, and luckily, Matt didn’t push, just gripped his shoulder and, with a gentle tug, turned Geo toward his truck.

“C’mon. Let’s get you home.”

About to protest that he could drive himself, a sudden wooziness swept over him, a product of both too much beer and emotion. Still, he rasped, “Nah, I can get an Uber...”

“No way. We’re swim buddies, right?”

Geo couldn’t help but smile at that. The swim buddy ethos had been drilled into them from day one at BUD/S, sometimes painfully, and it wasn’t anything a SEAL ever took lightly.

“Right,” he whispered. “Thanks, brother.”

It was a short drive to the barracks, and when Matt pulled up to the curb, he said, “I’ll give you a ride back to get your bike first thing in the morning, if you want.”

“Oh, God, no. I’ll get an Uber for that.” Geo got out of the truck and leaned his forearms on top of the window frame to look inside. “Sleep late with your man.”

At those words, Matt’s cheeks took on an attractive flush, his eyes sparkling. “Well, I definitely won’t argue with you about that. I haven’t seen him in a month.”

Geo winked. “Enjoy. Talk to you later.” He stood back, swaying just the slightest bit on his feet, as Matt put the truck into gear and drove away with a jaunty wave. He watched until the taillights disappeared around the corner. Wow. Shane was a lucky guy.

Wearily, he made his way up the walk toward his room, envying their upcoming reunion, the fact that Matt would soon be sleeping in the arms of someone who loved him. What was it like for them as a couple, being fully out in the teams? Even a few short years ago, it wouldn’t have been possible, DADT or no. They wouldn’t have been accepted; the reaction of the older team guys in the bar was proof of that.

Now, at least, the younger men moving into leadership positions were bringing with them their increasingly progressive views, slowly but surely replacing the old guard. The fact that the military as a whole was a largely conservative organization meant there was still a long way to go, but for the most part, he was finding the shift in attitudes encouraging.

Too bad it didn’t extend to mental health.

He flopped fully clothed onto the bed, his thoughts churning as he replayed the altercation at the bar.

“We’ve all been through it. Every single one of us has demons we wrestle with.”

It was true. He’d seen some gruesome shit during his career, heartbreaking stuff that sometimes flashed in his mind’s eye with the clarity of a CGI movie: Fighters blown inside out by U.S. planes’ powerful bombs, their body fat still sizzling from the white phosphorus. Women and children used as human shields or caught in the crossfire. Dead friends.

So many dead friends.

But grieving was a luxury no one could afford. They all learned pretty quickly to stuff it away, to move on. There were things Geo’d seen, and done, that he’d locked away so tightly, if he had his way they’d never again see the light of day.

“I don’t want to compartmentalize so much that I stop caring,” Matt had said.