Page 66 of Trusting a Warrior

“Well, if what you need is to watch me spiral right on down toward rock bottom, enjoy.”

Matt nudged him with his elbow. “I also get to watch our leadership recognize that and do everything in its power to make sure that doesn’t happen. Maybe after all this, other guys who are hurting won’t be too ashamed to ask for help when their time comes.”

With a pat to Geo’s arm, Matt slipped out the door, and long after he’d gone, Geo sat slumped on the bed, his thoughts in a tangle.

It was true. The SEAL narrative was firmly focused on mental toughness, their status as “elite” and “special.” No one talked about the darkness, the brokenness. They didn’t talk about the destroyed marriages, the isolation, the disconnect, or how it felt to stuff charred bits of beloved teammates into body bags and a week later come home to a world whose idea of a bad day was that their car wouldn’t start.

He’d bought into that narrative, too. He’d ignored his own concerns about Cade, and convinced himself that he just needed time, because someone so capable, so larger-than-life, so tough, couldn’t possibly be in such a deep well of agony that death would seem like the only way out.

Geo squeezed his eyes shut, the echo of that single, lonely gunshot ringing in his ears.

“Maybe after watching you...”

No. He didn’t want to be anybody’s trailblazer or poster boy. He wanted to stay with his unit where he belonged.

Until what, the next time you fuck up? If you can’t control your anger, eventually someone’s gonna get hurt. Eventually something’s gonna happen that you won’t be able to come back from.

He still had a chance to come back from this. As much as it sucked, if he jumped through enough hoops like a good trained SEAL, that statement from Parnell would get shit-canned and Geo could get right back where he belonged.

At last he dragged himself up from the bed and started to pack. It didn’t take long, and soon he was strapped into a cavernous C-17, Bosch’s travel kennel locked down at his feet.

As the ramp slid closed and the engines spooled up with a whine, Geo put everything he was leaving out of his mind and turned his focus toward what he needed to accomplish—getting back to his unit.

The problem was, he had no idea where to begin. Who should he call? A Navy psychologist? Memories of past mental health briefs welled up, and Geo shuddered. They’d been a joke, something they all had to sit through, yet even the presenters had looked bored, their message clear: “You don’t really need this. You’re SEALs, right?”

Geo firmed his lips. No way. Whoever he saw would have to be someone outside the Navy, yet ideally someone who also had a basic understanding of military culture. He let out a grunt. Yeah, good luck with that. He had no fucking idea where to start.

Right then his phone buzzed in his pocket. Geo dragged it out, a pleased warmth washing through him as he read Lani’s text. Hey, Bosch and Geo, what’re you up to? Hope you’re out there living your best life. The message was followed by a few paw print emojis and a heart.

Geo stared at the screen. Holy fuck, was he an idiot. Maybe he didn’t have a clue where to start, but he certainly knew someone who did. He snapped a quick photo of Bosch in his crate, and thumbs flying, replied, Heading somewhere top secret. Shhh.

Lani answered with a string of zipped-lips emojis, which made him chuckle.

You get it, don’t you? You understand things about me I don’t even understand myself.

A sudden aching need to see her, to be with her, swept over him. When I get to where I’m going, can we talk?

There was no hesitation. Anytime.

Geo’s tension slowly leached away, and he slumped in relief. Okay. He had someone in his corner, someone he liked, someone he’d already grown to trust. Lani could help him.

He just had to be honest with her first.

“Thanks, girls!”

Lani stepped out of the SUV before turning back to wave at the driver and the two other women inside. “I had a great time.”

“Love ya, sweetheart.”

“Catch you later!”

“We’ll do lunch soon.”

After the car roared off, she ambled up the sidewalk toward her apartment, smiling to herself. Her tummy was full, her heart even more full, the happiness a low hum that made her swing her purse back and forth playfully and lent a skip to her step.

What a fantastic night.

Still grinning, she caught sight of a lone figure perched on the stairs leading up to her door, and she paused. The man sat just outside the pool of light cast by one of the lamp posts that lined the walkway, his elbows propped on his widespread knees, head down.