“I tried, Natalie. I tried to save him, and I couldn’t,” Ryker begins without preparation. He sounds shocked, like it’s just happened. I guess it must feel like that most days.
I don’t know if I’m prepared for this. Ten years ago, all I wanted was for Ryker to talk to me about Lucas, and he never would. Now, it’s clear I won’t be able to stop him even if I wanted to.
“What happened?”
He turns toward me, barely able to look me in the eyes. “What do you know?”
“Just what your mom told me over the phone.” I shrug. “That his Humvee was blown up, you pulled him out, then got shot.”
Ryker nods for a second. “His vehicle was right in front of mine. I didn’t know at the time if it was shot at, or if it was a roadside bomb . . . but it was in flames in a second. I was in the second of four Humvees. It was so loud, Natalie . . . all the guys started hollering, and shooting, and all I could think of was shooting my way to Lucas. That was my first thought— get us out of here. I thought about his family, my mom, my dad, and you. Jesus, I was so scared.”
Wrapping my arms around my waist, I groan a little. It feels like I’ll never stop crying at this point.
“I did, Natalie, I saw your face, and heard your laugh, and . . . I ran for Lucas. He was on the ground, screaming, when I got to his Humvee. The fire was spreading so I dragged him a few feet away before trying to treat him. I didn’t see his injuries right away, but I felt blood pouring down my arms.”
I think I might be sick, but Ryker stays in the story.
“I knew no matter where it was coming from, it was bad. There was just a lot of it. I kept telling him it was going to be okay and I’d get him help. He yelled at me to go get the other guys.” Ryker’s voice pinches, “He knew . . .” Ryker stands and laces his fingers behind his head.
“When did you get shot?” I have no idea why I’m asking questions.
“About a second after I told Luke I wasn’t going to leave him. I think I might have screamed once, but I kept just trying to stabilize him. My back hurt like hell. I didn’t know where exactly I got shot, or how much blood I was losing, so I worked as fast as I could. When the medic got over to us, I looked down at Luke and said, he’s here, man.” Ryker sits back down on the couch and buries his face in his hands. “He was gone, Nat. Just like that, in my arms in the middle of fucking nowhere, he was gone.”
Disregarding old instincts that would tell me to keep my distance, I slide over to Ryker and rest my head on his shoulder. He puts his arm around me, drawing me closer.
“I was yelling his name and . . . there was just so much blood everywhere, Natalie. I honestly forgot that I’d been shot until I started to get dizzy, and one of the medics behind me spotted the wound. He just . . . died. My best fucking friend, who wanted nothing more than to be a lifelong soldier, died, and I couldn’t stop it. That’s why I lost it the way I did that night in your dorm. I know it is. God, I must have been a sight.”
“I’m so sorry, Ryker,” I wail, causing both of us to lean back into the couch and give in.
All it takes is a second for me to really get why Ryker felt like he wanted to reenlist, why he never wanted to talk about Lucas, and what a complete bastard PTSD is.
“It’s okay, Nat,” Ryker whispers into my hair, “I just . . . I know how I must have looked and sounded that night in the field with Luke and . . . if you saw even a piece of that from me, ever . . . I’m sorry.”
“It’s over now, Ryker.” I pull my tear-streaked face from his shoulder and place my hands on his cheeks.
He wraps his hands gently around my wrist and locks his blue eyes with mine. Eyes that have seen more darkness than I ever wanted to admit existed in the world. “That’s the thing, Natalie . . . it’s never really over.”
“You’re right,” I sigh, sliding my hands down his face to his shoulders, “it never really is.”
We’ve run out of words and tears as I turn to the side, resting my head on Ryker’s chest as he leans back on the arm of my couch. He’s in no apparent rush to leave, and I don’t want him to. Not yet.
Chapter 40
“How long did he stay?” Tosha asks far too early the next morning.
“A few hours.”
“And you didn’t talk?” she nearly shrieks through the phone.
“Not a word.”
Relaxed, I sit in the kitchen with my coffee and stare out the window. Ryker and I stayed in the same position on the couch for hours, holding hands in silence. Silence, I suppose, is a relative term used to describe what others might have seen. I’m sure his head was filled with as much noise as mine as I replayed everything he’d told me, and cried a little more for what my ex-boyfriend had been through.
“What’d he say when he left?” Tosh sounds impatient.
“That he was glad he came over, and that it helped him fill in some gaps . . . then he kissed my forehead and left.”
“He keeps doing that.”
“What?”
She laughs. “Kissing your forehead.”
“Yeah . . . he does.” I can’t stop my grin.