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It felt good to wear my cammies again, especially with the loud and proud gold pin on my chest, showing the world that I was one badass son of a bitch. The bald eagle with a dagger in its razor sharp talons had been something I’d been proud of since it was pinned on my chest. Now, it was only a reminder that I was just as mortal as the rest of the world. Flesh and bone.
Spiritus Invictus.
Unconquerable spirit my ass. What did it matter how strong your spirit was when your body failed you?
The long walk back to my borrowed truck felt like an eternity. When I got there, I just sat in the cab and smashed my palm against the wheel, growling out my frustration.
Now what?
Now fucking what?
Everything I’d worked for since I was eighteen years old was demolished at my feet, and I was left with empty hands, and a completely frameless future, which was scary as all hell. Now, at thirty-seven years old, I was careerless, homeless, and directionless, living with my best friend who was treating me like some teenager instead of the full grown man I was.
I rubbed at my eyes as I just sat there in my seat, trying to figure out what the fuck I was going to do.
Logically, I had a job, and I enjoyed it as long as I didn’t have any more of those Goddamn episodes in the bathroom.
Pressing my head back into the chair, I tried not to think about it, but of course, the more you try to not think about something, the more your brain hyper-focuses on it. So there I was, sitting in the dark with Freya practically in my lap, pressed into my chest again while I focused on her heartbeat and the soft, sweet smell of her hair. It was those two things that had pulled me out of the awful memory. And after I came out of it? I kept holding her. I kept pressing her to me even harder until she started humming. That was when my shame really hit me. She was my friend’s kid. I was old enough to be her dad. Well, I mean, if I was a real, real young dad.
Shit, that wasn’t helping.
Shoving the shit out of my head, I decided that if I had no choice, I was going to take life by the tits and dive in, because the idea of not having some direction was unacceptable. So, step one, I needed a new place. Sharing a house with Freya was fucking hard, not to mention the weird as hell way Tommy and Karma have been treating me.
Right. So, some kind of house or apartment, or trailer or…freaking anything with four walls and a roof. Taking out my cell, I went to Craigslist and started there, until my phone started ringing in my hand.
Yamin.
I sighed, half dreading and half excited for the call.
“Hey Kiwi,” I said, putting the phone to my ear.
The guy had been born in New Zealand, hence the odd, fruity nickname.
“What’s up, Citizen?”
I rolled my eyes at the stupid nickname that'd been bestowed upon me.
You get it? My last name is Kane, so…Citizen Kane.
Funny, the nickname had an odd ring of my new reality to it. I was nothing more than an average citizen now, so I supposed it fit more than any of us realized.
“I’m fine, just like I was last time you called. Don’t you have anything better to do than sit on your thumb and worry your tits about me?”
He laughed.
“Oh good. Glad to know that almost losing your leg and your life has left you grouchy as ever.”
“I’m not grouchy, Goddamnit!”
Yamin laughed harder, which made me smile. He had an infectious, honking goose laugh that was homey in a weird sort of way.
When the laughter dimmed, it left us in a haze of quiet.
“Ok,” he said eventually, voice dropping an octave which meant he was all business. “How’d it go? Good or bad?”
He knew I had my meeting today. Hell, Yamin called me three times a week to make sure I was ok, which was three times more than any of the other guys called. I didn’t blame them though. It was all my fucking fault.
“It went about as expected,” I admitted, feeling another headache coming on. “You better get used to the unit without me, bro.”
