It’s too much at first. Sudden and ferocious, it brings back a flood of memories — good and bad — and I take a step backward into the bathroom, debating with myself over asking Addie to just send these four home. Ever since I left the Army, I’ve done everything I could to avoid even thinking about my time in the service and now four of the closest brothers I had from my unit — aside from the best friend that I lost to my stupid mistake on patrol — are here.
Sergeant Malone. Alika ‘Mad Dog’ Jenkins. Reggie ‘Rage’ Samuelson. Clint ‘Spyder’ Lewis. Names that I’ll never forget. My long-lost brothers.
But I’m not fast enough to escape their notice.
They see me. She sees me. And she waves me over.
Every step I take forward brings me closer to the time in my life that I’ve tried to leave behind. And I feel shame, because I served with all these men and considered them brothers but, after the trauma of what happened with Derek, I cut ties and went dark as soon as I was discharged.
They’d have every right to be angry with me. To have come here to confront me for ditching them. Hell, I’d even deserve a few punches for all the shit I probably put them through, Sergeant Malone most of all — the grizzled man often compared leading our unit to roasting in the eighth circle of Hell.
“Corporal Logan Wood, well, you sure look like life ate you up and shat you right out,” he says, grinning and then pulling me in to a hug. “It’s good to see you, brother.”
I’m stunned at first. I don’t know what to say. I expected to hear anger, insults, because I left these men — and that entire part of my life — behind as soon as I could.
But instead, I hear brotherhood.
“It’s good to see you, too, sir,” I answer.
And it’s the same from all three of the others — hugs, greetings, not an ounce of ill-will — and my head is spinning in the best fucking way once I finish introductions.
Then, bewildered, I look at Addie.
“How the fuck did you do this?”
She smiles. It’s wicked, mischievous, hot enough that I want to drag her into one of the back apartments this fucking instant.
“You know those dog tags you gave Josie? Well, I might have borrowed them for a bit and used them to find these guys right here,” she says, then she comes in to kiss me and whisper in my ear, “I just called them to ask if there were any old photos of you in uniform. Thinking about you all in army duds turns me on. But they all asked about you and wanted to meet you. They care, Snake.”
She takes a step back, and I look to each one of my brothers in arms. My heart and head are both a mess right now — competing emotions swell inside me — and I fumble for words.
Then Sergeant Malone steps forward and puts his hand on my shoulder.
“I know this is a shock. We know it’s been hard since what happened, and we all feel that pain, too. But we’re here because we love you, brother. We don’t leave any man behind. If you need us, if you need to talk or just someone to sit in silence and have a beer with, we’re here for you.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Those are the only words I can get out. To have so much of my past right in front of me, these brothers I thought I’d disappointed all those years ago when I went against orders and cost my best friend his life, and instead find them affirming nothing but their unwavering support and unbreakable brotherhood, shakes me to my core.
“Fucking right,” Spyder says, putting his hand on my other shoulder. “But don’t go getting weepy on me right now. At least not until after your lady here takes our picture.”
Smiling, Adella takes her camera out of the bag. She sets us up in a line, positioning and repositioning us to get the best picture. Once she gets it right, I find myself shoulder to shoulder with my brothers, with the men who served beside me as I grew from some dumb kid from Marietta, Georgia, into the man that I am today, with all my scars and all the things I’ve got to feel proud about — including that woman standing in front of me, with her face hidden behind some fancy camera, about to document my life.
They say time heals all wounds, and maybe that’s true, but time can’t hold a candle to Adella Stone. With her in my life, I’m a new man. Healing and looking forward to every damn day that I get to spend with that incredible woman.
The shutter snaps, and she pokes her head up from behind the camera, smiling.
“That’s the one,” she says.
I shake my head. “We need one more.”
“You getting all sentimental on me, Logan?” Sergeant Malone says.
“There’s one more Ranger who needs to be in this picture,” I say. Then, turning, I look around the clubhouse until I catch sight of Kendra. I wave to get her attention and she comes on over. “Where’s Josie?”
“Out front. Sitting on your motorcycle and reading Goosebumps.”
“Can you send her in here? We’re taking troop pictures.”
She smiles. “I’ll let her know.”
The door’s hardly shut behind her before it flies open again, smacking against the wall with a loud crash as Josie ‘Speed Demon’ Wilcox comes charging
