Page 5 of Gone With the Sandy

Ididn’t sleep for shit the night before, but that wasn’t really anything new. But whatwasnew was having to down two energy drinks this morning to even get myself motivated. Things were getting worse, and I was worried about what my therapist was going to say when I told her.

I was doing everything I could to avoid sleeping medications, but pretty soon, I knew she would put her foot down on it. And with my lack of sleep now beginning to affect my day-to-day life, I knew that during this next appointment, she was probably going to at least prescribe me a low dose.

I just hated the way the meds made me feel. But I couldn’t keep living like this. I knew I couldn’t. I was barely surviving out here.

Survivor’s guilt was a shitty thing to have to live with. But because I’d been injured, Carl hadn’t made it. He’d been trying to console me. To get me to safety.

And it killed him.

I clenched my jaw. I just wished I was stronger to get through this shit on my own without the addition of medications.

The military had fucked me up and left me with scars that went way deeper than the surface of my skin. Losing Carl had altered me in a way that could never be reversed.

I looked over toward the door when Xavier walked up into the lifeguard stand, a frown pulling at his lips. He nodded once at me and took a seat, crossing his arms over his broad chest. The beach wasn’t busy yet, but it wouldn’t be long before people started flooding onto the sand and getting in the water.

Xavier seemed to be keeping to himself today—or more correctly, just lost in his head—but I didn’t care what his reason was for the silence. I was only thankful for it. I wasn’t in the mood for him to talk to me.

Hell, I wasn’t in the mood for anyone. I was tired. Drained. I just wanted to sleep, but I knew that wasn’t going to happen.

Xavier and I would never have a real truce. He was obviously too set in his childish ways to ever change. But maybe today was proof that we could at least do our jobs here without jumping down each other’s throats all the time.

I could only hope so.

* * *

I checkedtraffic from both directions before jogging across the road, heading deeper into the neighborhood I lived in. My house had been too silent after getting off work, and I couldn’t sit still either. Hence why I was out here on mile three of my run.

I wasn’t stopping until my head was silenced.

I was pretty sure the old lady on the corner thought I was crazy. I’d passed her house numerous times already. I was barely even winded. I just wanted some kind of pain. Something else for me to focus on besides being miserable.

Hell, I rarely felt sane anymore. There was too much fucked up shit in my head and trauma for me to work through for me to ever be considered normal again. Misery had become my daily company.

I craved some kind of structure. I needed it. I needed something to take my mind off of Carl. Off of what I’d seen. What I’d endured. But there was nothing out here that met my needs. And even if I wanted to rejoin the military, I wouldn’t pass the mental evaluation to even get through MEPS. That was how fucking far gone I was.

“Fuck—watch out!” a guy yelled. He was coming down the sidewalk on the same hill I was running up, and he was losing control of the bicycle he was on, panic flooding his features, which meant he was no longer thinking clearly.

A body slammed into mine before I could even begin to move, knocking me off the sidewalk and into the grass of some random person’s yard. I groaned, the wind knocked from my lungs. I heard the bicyclist scream, and then a loud crash followed.

I blinked, trying to clear my head and get my bearings. The person who slammed into me rolled over onto their back, panting. Grunting, I looked over to see who the hell had saved me, and my eyes widened when they landed on Xavier.

What the fuck?

He was thelastperson I ever expected to help me. I honestly would have just expected him to stand there and watch as some dumbass riding on a sidewalk he shouldn’t be on crashed into me.

“Fuck,” he wheezed. “What the hell do you eat, Harlow? Goddamnbricks?”

I couldn’t help it. I snickered. And for some reason, his presence quieted the chaos in my mind. I closed my eyes, drawing in a deep breath, enjoying the peace inside my skull. I didn’t even care that it was my enemy that made the noise shut the fuck up. I’d take whatever I could get at this point, no matter where it came from.

“Thanks,” I finally uttered.

Xavier groaned and stood up from the ground, his once-white t-shirt now covered in grass stains. “Chief would’ve kicked my ass if I let you get hit,” he muttered.

I rolled my eyes.

Still a dick.

I stood as well, brushing off my shorts. “Well, thanks again.”

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