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I waited for the footsteps to retreat. They always did when I said shit the old me never would have even considered uttering. If there was any benefit to being stuck in a chair for the rest of my days, it was that people walked on eggshells around me.
Let’s not upset the poor cripple. He’s already got enough problems.
When the footsteps didn't retreat or even move at all, I glanced over my shoulder at the man. My stomach instantly did that little flip – flop sensation that it had done outside when the guy had been lying on top of me.
The old me would've recognized how gorgeous the man was and would've been turning on the charm full blast. I'd always had pretty good gaydar, so under most circumstances it had never taken me long to figure out if a guy swung my way. But in order to determine if a guy did in fact play for my team, I sometimes had to do a little recon. When I'd been younger, I'd naïvely believed I could turn a guy. One ugly encounter with a guy on my wrestling team in high school had disavowed me of that notion. I hadn't made that same mistake again.
Well, that wasn't quite true. The exception had been Maddox. I'd been crushing on the man from the moment I'd met him at West Point. It was one of the few times my gaydar hadn't been pinging one way or the other. For years I'd waffled between not wanting to ruin my friendship with Maddox and fantasizing about a future with my best friend. It had all come to a head one night when I'd had just a little too much to drink. Despite being ridiculously inebriated, I could still remember blurting out how hot I thought the man was and then planting a kiss on his unsuspecting lips.
I'd been in heaven when Maddox had actually returned my kiss for the briefest of moments, but then when he'd gently pushed me away and told me he would take me home, it had been like falling into the pit of hell. Thankfully, Maddox hadn't forced me to relive the moment the following morning and I’d taken the coward's way out by pretending I hadn't remembered any of it.
I'd fully expected our friendship to come to an end, but to my relief, Maddox hadn't withdrawn from me. In fact, he’d treated me exactly the same as he always had.
So while the old me might have tried to do some subtle flirting with the good-looking blond guy, the new me had only cruel, ugly things to say to him. After all, what was the point of trying to figure out if the beautiful man was like me?
There was none. There was no point at all.
"Look, I just wanted to apologize again for—"
"Fine," I interrupted. "You can go now."
Still no retreating footsteps. I could feel that fire burning in my belly… the uncontrollable one that turned me into someone I no longer recognized. The same someone who’d spat those ugly, completely untrue words at Maddox. The rage mixed with shame and I found myself gripping the arms of my wheelchair hard.
Really hard.
I was dimly aware of those footsteps finally moving, but they weren’t going in the right direction.
"You're bleeding," I heard the man say softly when he reached my back. It was all I could do not to move, to not respond in any kind of way. I was afraid of what would come out of my mouth. Or worse, what my hands might do if I didn't keep them wrapped around my wheelchair. It was like being trapped under that Humvee all over again. No one could hear me. The screams in my head grew louder and louder.
I tried to hang on to the present. But no matter how hard I focused on the trees swaying gently in the breeze just outside my window, all I felt was the heat of the fire threatening to singe my skin and the weight of the four-ton vehicle pinning me down on the hot, hard sand.
I closed my eyes and bit down on my lower lip hard. The metallic taste of my own blood hit my taste buds, causing my stomach to roll violently.
"Jett," I heard someone softly say.
Which made no sense because the screams of my dying comrades were so loud that I shouldn't have been able to hear anything else. Most certainly not a voice that didn't belong there in the desert beside me.
"Jett, come back to me."
Gentle fingers brushed my cheek, then my jawline. I knew that touch. I'd only felt it for those brief seconds, but it was already etched on my brain. I desperately followed the man's voice as he said my name again. The sound of gunfire and screams slowly began to recede as the man's words began to come together and make sense.
