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Period.
I waited another full minute before heading to my office. The moment I stepped inside, it was like I’d stepped into a battle zone.
“Who the hell do you think you are that you can just push my friend to the breaking point?” he demanded.
I was taken aback, the nervous tic on the corner of my mouth unusual. I was used to being confronted, but not by someone I’d yet to formally meet. “And you are?” I made certain my voice was as cold as a polar ice cap.
Huffing, his glare pierced right through me. “My name is Holt Wills, but my friends call me Mustang. You aren’t my friend.”
While I wanted to lash out, that would serve no purpose. “Well, Mr. Wills. You can either calm down and tell me why you’re here and what you’re talking about, or you can leave. It’s entirely up to you. If you don’t leave of your own accord, I will have security toss you out. And funny thing, Mustang. They are bigger than you are. So. Do I make myself clear?” I dropped the towel into the trash, noticing he was watching every action I took. At least he had the good sense not to act amused.
His brow crinkled then he shook his head. “Yeah, he said you were a ballbuster.”
“He? Am I to assume you’re talking about Corporal Garcia?”
“Exactly, but you already knew that. Didn’t you?”
Heat flushed my face, his nasty demeanor not what I needed this morning on top of everything else. “Fine. Do you want me to repeat what I just said?”
He remained disgruntled, but his body language shifted, some tension easing. “He’s not just some guy that you can pretend to care about. He’s a good man who went through a lot of shit.”
“I know that, Mustang,” I said on purpose and the tension thickened between us. I had no intentions of allowing another rugged Marine to try to boss me around. My dance card was filled. “Which is why I’m trying to help him. If you’re his friend, then you’ll understand.”
“Help? You came to his house without being asked.”
His attitude was already getting on my nerves. I folded my arms, walking closer.
“Because he missed several appointments, and threatened two other therapists, who refused to have anything to do with him. One incident was bad enough our administrator had to talk the therapist out of calling the sheriff. Your friend needs help, and not just with his physical impairment.”
That seemed to get him, his face sagging. “I didn’t know it was that bad.”
“Oh, it’s bad, although he doesn’t want to face the fact he needs as much assistance as he can get. Why don’t you sit down so we can have a decent conversation?” I pointed to the other chair in my crowded little office.
Mustang hesitated and I knew he was debating whether or not he could trust me. When he finally sat down, I took it as a win. Then he chuckled in a disgruntled manner, and I finally exhaled, realizing I’d been holding my breath. “I think he likes you.”
“Oh, really? Was it when he told you how horrible I was to him or after he complained that I refused to take his bullshit? Or perhaps it was after he threatened me with bodily harm?” Okay, so the last part was stretching it but Mustang needed to know that unless his friend accepted help, he would lose more than one battle, including his need for violence.
As he burst out into laughter, I sensed we were making headway. “That’s Snake. He was always rough around the edges, but since he came back, he’s entirely different.”
I eased into my office chair, trying to find the right words, if there were any. “You were in the military long enough, I’m certain you know the war and all the atrocities every branch of the military had to endure were very personal as well as tragic. There are thousands of men and women suffering because of what they had to face.”
“Yeah, I know, but he has a chance at life, and he refuses to take it.”
“I’m not a miracle worker, Mustang. I’m not going to cure him, but I am going to try and help him be able to walk, with or without a cane. As far as his anger issues, all I can do is make a few suggestions.”
“He’ll never use a cane. Never. I wouldn’t bother.”
“I noticed that, but it could either be a cane or a wheelchair. It’s entirely up to him.” I’d seen the thick wooden rod leaning against the wall in his bedroom. I’d also sensed it was doing nothing but catching dust. “Bottom line. I need your friend to be cooperative, including not missing his appointments. If you’re willing to help encourage him to show up every once in a while, fantastic. If not, then don’t accuse me for doing nothing more than the job I was hired to do.”
As he eyed me circumspectly, I refused to back down, cocking my head and keeping my hard expression. “Fair enough.”
“I’m glad we have an understanding.” I remained unblinking, hoping the man would share even a few small details that might prove to be helpful.
He rubbed his jaw, leaning forward. “Snake never liked rules. He got himself into all kinds of trouble while serving.”
“I can only imagine. Have you guys talked about the incident in question when he was captured?” I could tell by the look in the man’s eyes that he’d endured just as much pain, likely from guilt. That was also typical of men who served together, one listed as dead for so long while the others lived.
He shook his head. “Nah. He refuses and the rest of us have tried to move on.”
