But what about when it was over? When he hit his twenty, twenty-five, maybe thirty-year mark? Eventually he’d have to retire, and what would he have to show for it? A rank on his sleeve, maybe a few medals, a trail of broken relationships scattered in his wake?
He gazed up at the now-neatly trimmed tree in the moonlight, a sudden wave of loneliness, of sadness, crashing over him and nearly driving him to his knees.
What if I’m alone?
As he bent double, struggling for air, footsteps rushed through the grass and then an arm wrapped around his waist, anchoring him. “I’m here. I’m here, Geo.”
At Lani’s whispered words, the last of the walls he’d built around his heart started to crumble into dust.
“God, I just miss him so much,” he gasped. “I’m so fucking angry at him, and I love him, and I hate him.”
“I know,” she crooned, holding him tight. “I know.”
“You had it all, Cade. A family,” he whispered brokenly. “You belonged. You were loved.”
And suddenly, for the first time, Geo caught a glimpse of how deep, how pervasive, how black the hole of Cade’s pain must have been. It’d overshadowed everything, and stolen his hope for tomorrow. It’d rendered him unreachable, having grown too big, too vast, for him to climb out of.
Or for anyone to simply stick their hand down and rescue him from it.
The first sob that broke from his chest came out muffled, like a hiccup. The second was a ragged, gasping explosion that had Lani pulling him closer.
Clutching onto her, he sank down into the grass. She never let go, and under the shadow of Cade’s tree, safe in Lani’s arms, Geo wept.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Will you go somewhere with me?”
Geo’s voice was quiet, hoarse.
Brushing her lips over his forehead, Lani whispered, “Anywhere.”
They stumbled to their feet and lurched toward the car arm in arm. Once there, she slipped behind the wheel, Geo slumping in the passenger seat, head back, eyes closed. She couldn’t help but glance at him frequently as she drove, wondering if he was donning his armor again even as she watched.
He didn’t speak except to mumble directions, and at last they pulled up in front of an unassuming tattoo studio named Scars & Ink. A short, barrel-chested white man met them right inside.
As he and Geo clasped hands and then embraced, she heard Geo croak, “It’s time, Spike.”
“I got you, brother,” Spike murmured back. “I got you.”
He took them to a room at the rear of the shop, and as he got set up, Geo turned to her. “Spike’s a former team guy. We did one tour in Afghanistan together, the one where Cade—”
When he couldn’t go on, Spike came over and squeezed his shoulder. “C’mon, buddy, let’s do this.”
They didn’t discuss tattoo designs, and Geo didn’t look at any of the flash on the walls or page through a book. Instead, Spike asked one simple question: “Where d’ya want it?”
After Geo indicated his right biceps, Spike configured the chair and tray accordingly. Geo stripped his T-shirt over his head and sat down, his elbow crooked on a padded armrest. He held his other hand out for Lani, who perched on a stool next to him, their entwined fingers resting on her thigh.
For a long time the only sound in the room was the buzzing of the tattoo machine. Geo stared straight ahead, unmoving, although his thumb drifted in almost unconscious circles on her inner wrist.
I’m here, baby, she whispered to him silently. I’m here.
At last Spike sat back and snapped his gloves off before running a rag over his sweaty forehead. “Outline’s done. Wanna see?” He handed Geo a small mirror, then got up and left the room, leaving them alone.
Geo’s hand was trembling, so she reached over and gently took the mirror from him. “You ready?”
“Yes.” His voice still scratchy from crying, he rasped, “Will you look at it first?”
A huge lump rose into her throat. “Of course,” she managed. Pressing a kiss to his bare shoulder, she stood and moved around to his other side, where she immediately caught her breath. “Oh, my.”
The stark black outline of a frog skeleton wrapped itself around his muscular biceps. Eerie, yet beautiful, each individual bone was rendered so lifelike that she couldn’t help but shiver.
“A bone frog. It’s amazing,” she whispered, then held up the mirror for Geo to see. He stared wordlessly for several seconds before nodding.
“It’s good,” he said to Spike, who was now hovering quietly in the doorway. “Real good.”
Lani laid the mirror down carefully and returned to her seat as Spike donned fresh gloves and resumed his work. She traced her eyes over him, letting them linger on the many tattoos decorating his own arms.
One of them, a shiny red apple with a snake wrapped around it, caught her attention. She peered closer. Was the snake’s tongue comprised of someone’s initials...?
“M.S.,” Spike said. “Mike ‘Snake Eyes’ Slidell, one badass Marine.”
“Ah, I get it.” She sat back. “‘Eat the apple, fuck the Corps.’”
Spike smirked in appreciation at her knowledge of Marine culture. “Yeah. Ol’ Snake Eyes saved my life on a joint op in Fallujah, and the day after that stepped on an IED. Here one minute, gone the next.” He shook his head. “Ain’t war a bitch.”
“Ain’t it, though.”
“Lots of good people died, but Mike’s death is the one that hurts the most.” His voice was matter-of-fact, but Lani could still hear the thread of pain running through it. “On the days that I’m struggling, I look at this.” He lifted his chin at the tattoo. “It reminds me that I’m a living, breathing memorial to Mike, and it’s up to me to honor his memory. It helps me put that drink down, you know?”
They stared at each other for a few brief moments, and then Spike turned back to his work. “You get it, lady, don’t you?”
“Yeah, she gets it, man,” Geo broke in, sounding a little stronger now. “She fuckin’ gets it.”
The tattoo machine buzzed on as the tension in Geo’s shoulders gradually eased, although every now and then a stray tear trickled down his cheek. He made no move to wipe them away, or to hide them, still staring straight ahead, his thumb caressing Lani’s wrist.
In the end, Spike wouldn’t take any payment. “Anything for a team guy,” he said quietly before pulling him into another tight hug. “You know I got you, brother.”