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Sam shrugged, feigning calm when her heart was nearly exploding out of her chest in a strange mixture of surprise and excitement at seeing him.
“Look, Sammy, I’m sorry about the fight. It was wrong of me to go after your brother like I did. But he hit you, and I wanted to see if you were okay, but he wouldn’t let me, and—”
“Aero, stop,” she whispered, not ready to hear it. She wasn’t ready to forgive him or Anthony. She hadn’t yet worked through the doubt, the anger, or the fearful thoughts that were still swirling through her brain.
“Please, let me in, Sam,” Aero begged, fully prepared to drop to his knees and prostrate himself if that’s what it took to get her back.
Taking in a shaky breath, she whispered, “No.”
Aero’s shoulders sagged in defeat as she retreated away from the window, the empty space she left mirroring the hollow void that was growing in his heart. “Sam, I know you’re upset, and you have every right to be. I just want you to know that Anthony and I talked. We worked things out, and he’s at the compound. We both overreacted, and we’re really sorry. Also,” he gulped, “we both love you. So much.”
When she didn’t reply, he hung his head and went back to the truck.
Aero walked back into the kitchen and found Anthony, Blaze, and Zed at the table while Ma bustled around behind them.
“Where’s Sam?” Anthony asked, trying to read Aero’s mood but failing.
“She won’t let me in the house.”
“Shit.” Anthony rubbed a hand over his face, guilt and worry seizing his chest.
Aero nodded and dropped into a kitchen chair, resting his face in his hands.
“Give her some time,” Blaze suggested. “She’ll come around.”
Anthony nodded but watched Aero, the way his breaths were shuddering and his shoulders hunched. He recognized it for what it was. Aero was shutting down.
“Let’s take a walk.” Anthony stood and headed for the door.
Aero glanced up, realized Anthony was talking to him, and followed along to the back lot.
The men walked slowly in a circle around the compound in silence until Anthony finally spoke.
“Sam tells me you were in the Army,” he prompted, and Aero nodded.
“Me too,” Anthony said. “I was deployed for a year in Afghanistan.”
“Two years, Iraq,” Aero shared.
“Sam said you were an aircraft technician,” Anthony continued, keeping his voice calm and even as he tried to coax Aero into talking.
“I was for my second contract. I was infantry before that,” Aero said, the words easy enough to say. They were plain, verifiable facts. It was the details of his time overseas where he started to struggle.
“I ended up as an M1 armor crewman.” Anthony hoped his own experience in combat might make Aero feel more comfortable.
“Wow. That’s impressive.”
“Thanks.” Anthony glanced up at Aero, but he kept his eyes down on the gravel.
“Sammy doesn’t know much about my time in the service,” Aero rasped. “She knows I served and what I did, but nothing beyond that. I wanna tell her. I do; it’s just that I don’t want to burden her with it, you know?”
Anthony nodded. “I get that. But, knowing Sam, she’ll really wanna know eventually. She’s nosy, but she’s good at hiding it.”
Aero chuckled, then felt his heart squeeze.
Taking a chance, Anthony said, “You told me you elbowed her during a nightmare. Sam said you have intense night terrors. Do you wanna tell me what the nightmare was about?”
Aero hesitated as they rounded the clubhouse and started another lap. Byrd was always telling him to share, to confide in someone, and to let it out. He just hadn’t met someone, until Sam, that he was even remotely comfortable enough with to share what he had experienced. Anthony didn’t know him, had already hit him twice, and was still clearly wary of him. Yet, if anyone could understand the horrors Aero had seen and felt, it was Anthony.
