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“Three days.”
“I’m optimistic you’ll hear something favorable.”
Favorable? Right.
Lady didn’t have a fuckin’ clue. She meant well, but all her knowledge came from books and not real-world experience. She’d never fought for her country and nearly died. Or watched a friend’s chest explode in front of you from the force of a dozen bullets at the same time.
“Yeah,” I replied, my snark evident.
“I know you don’t like to let hope slip in only to be disappointed again, so I’ll hope for you.”
Hope was a delicate thing. A small flame that could quickly grow without warning, and if you weren’t careful, it would erupt into a towering inferno. Then you were stuck with all that heat and burning blaze. When it was doused with water faster than you could blink, it hurt like a motherfucker.
I couldn’t afford to think that way.
My vision blurred slightly, and then tried to refocus. Little flashes of light blasted off in my peripheral, and I ignored it, not wanting to reveal that I was having any problems. I’d fought hard to be able to keep my driver’s license. No way was I losing my Harley now.
That bike was the only thing that kept me going besides Kane. I couldn’t live without either one of them.
“Detached retina injuries take time to heal, Flint. You’ve been through a lot in the last few months. It’s still raw, especially all the loss you suffered. Emotionally and physically. I’d like you to tell me about the journal you’re keeping by your bedside. Have you been writing in it?”
Shit. I didn’t use the damn thing, and she knew it.
“Not so much.”
“Why?”
“I haven’t had as many nightmares lately.” The lie was easy to tell, and I didn’t care if she knew it.
“I see.” Joan folded her hands primly in her lap. “You know you’re not fooling anyone, right? I’m not here to judge you, Flint. You’ve got to be ready and willing to make changes for the nightmares and pain to get better.”
“I know,” I admitted.
She glanced at the clock on the wall. “I think that ends our session for this week.”
Nodding, I stood, careful to keep my balance and stop squinting.
“You sure you’re okay to drive?”
“I ride, not drive. My Harley has never failed me.” Neither had my quick reflexes or gut instincts. You were born with them, or you weren’t. I guess I could say I was lucky enough to have them both.
She tilted her head to the side, studying me as if I was an anomaly. “Alright then. See you next week, Flint.”
“Sure,” I drawled, heading for the door as fast as I could. Once I was out of her office, I began to relax. My shoulders eased back a little, and I let out a deep breath. Those appointments always made me feel anxious and tense. I never knew what she would ask or what memory would pop up. In the early weeks, I brought Kane with me to almost every session. He was the only thing that brought comfort and prevented the episodes I used to have.
Didn’t like to think about that now. Memories weren’t always my friend.
The Nevada skyline was bright and clear as I exited the Medical Center. Cerulean blue stretched as far as I could imagine without hardly a cloud in the Las Vegas sky. I missed the days when I could see the detail, but I wasn’t about to feel sorry for myself. Years as a Marine brought discipline and the hard acceptance that life often didn’t work out the way you expected.
I wasn’t lying when I told the shrink that it was a good sight day. Particles and floaters were almost nonexistent, and the blur wasn’t bad. Light still bothered my eyes, so I always wore sunglasses, even indoors. The only exception was night. As long as I was home, I didn’t bother.
Rumbling down the busy road, I was distracted by my thoughts and the visit to the VA. It wasn’t long before I was in my neighborhood and a few streets from my house. My bike rolled to a stop at the nearest intersection as I balanced her out, sitting comfortably in the saddle as I waited for the light to change. I lifted my head, scanning the area before turning right.
As I rounded the corner, I caught sight of a man and a young woman arguing. She had her hands in the air, animatedly waving them around in frustration. I was all set to keep riding when he lifted a hand and cracked her hard across the face. The girl crumpled to the ground as I stopped, dropping the kickstand and hopping off my bike.
There were two things I didn’t condone. Bullies were one. Men who hurt women were another.
This motherfucker was about to learn a hard lesson.
