Page 65 of Trusting a Warrior

“It’s noted.”

“I assume there’s someone in Coronado I’m supposed to check in with periodically?”

Alex rattled off the name of a friend of his, and with a start, Geo recognized him as the OIC of Matt’s original platoon, Lieutenant Bradley.

“They’re coming off block leave in the next few weeks and starting workups, so go ahead and hook up with them for the close-to-home stuff.” Alex forced a grin. “Show ’em what a badass K9 team can do, okay?”

When Geo just stared straight ahead, the smile faded from Alex’s lips. “Rotator flight to San Diego leaves at 1300. Be sure you’re on it.”

“Aye, Master Chief,” Geo said stiffly, and without another word, he turned on his heel and strode away. Once in his room, he slumped on the edge of the bed, waves of anger and despair washing through him.

How the hell had it come to this? When had he become so weak, so lacking in self-discipline, that he was letting jerks like Parnell affect him to the point he was being sent home in disgrace, his very future in jeopardy?

Geo clutched his hair. And why couldn’t Cade stay in his goddamn mental box where he belonged?

“Fuck you, Cade,” he gasped. “You kill yourself and now it’s my life being ruined?”

The anger intensified until Geo was shaking with it.

“You’re gone. Checked out. Outta here. And the ones who loved you the most are left holding the bag. Fuck you!”

The pressure inside him built. Fighting the urge to scream, or punch the wall, he finally picked up a heavy boot and flung it across the room with all his strength.

Crash!

It hit the doorframe, inches away from where Matt now stood staring at him, frozen like a deer in headlights.

As quickly as it appeared, the anger leached away, leaving Geo limp and drained. He sank to the edge of the bed and buried his face in his hands. After a moment, the mattress dipped. “I’d ask if you were okay,” Matt said softly, “but I think I know the answer to that.” He lifted his chin toward the black mark on the doorframe.

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“It’s all right.” Matt hesitated. “What did Master Chief say?” He listened quietly while Geo told him everything, about being sent home, about being ordered to see a therapist.

“Obviously you’re pissed about it,” he said when Geo finished. “I mean, Exhibit A: the boot.”

“I’m pissed at myself, mostly.” Geo heaved a sigh and fell backwards on the bed. “I’m disappointed and angry in myself.”

“For what, being human?”

Geo shook his head. “For being weak. For not setting the example.”

A brief silence, and then Matt said, “Five years ago I made a promise to myself, a promise that I would never touch a drop of alcohol again. I’ve kept it, too, through hazing, peer pressure, even those times when I’m just fuckin’ stressed and a beer sounds like heaven.”

When he didn’t go on, Geo rolled to face him. “And?”

“Now it’s all I can think about. Like, if I drink enough beer, maybe I’ll be able to forget the sound of Shane’s blood splashing everywhere while I kept on driving.”

Geo flinched.

“Maybe I won’t think about those hours when I didn’t know if he was dead or alive. Maybe it’ll erase the knowledge that I’m the one who triggered the goddamn ambush in the first place.”

His own misery forgotten at the anguish in Matt’s voice, Geo sat up and gripped his shoulder. “It won’t. Take it from me. It won’t erase any of that.”

“I know. That doesn’t stop me from wanting it, though.” Sucking in a ragged breath, Matt went on, “So what I need right now is an alternative to taking that drink, something that doesn’t have anything to do with ‘rah-rah SEALs,’ ‘rah-rah mental toughness,’ ‘rah-rah compartmentalize everything and suck it up.’ I can get that anywhere in this community.”

He turned to Geo.

“I need honesty. I need someone to tell me it’s okay to struggle with this shit. That it’s okay to maybe need help.” Matt paused. “Like it or not, you are being an example, even if it’s not the kind you thought you’d be, or the kind you want to be. For what it’s worth, I do think it’s the kind I need.”