That brings a small grin tugging at his lips. “Yeah, I suppose. I know it was just paranoia but because of my sister, Sarah, I wanted to make sure… reproductively I was okay. Pulse took a sample and because of a fucking accident I had when I was a kid with a firework, my sperm count is low. Really fucking low. Apparently, I’m just a bunch of scar tissue down there, so yeah, I’ve taken a hit on my masculinity. What kind of man am I that I can’t even do the one thing men are supposed to fucking do?” He holds out his hands in a frustrated gesture. “Scarlett is so hopeful. She doesn’t care. She says it will happen or we can adopt. Either way, she just wants this life with me, and I want that to be enough, but it isn’t. I know it isn’t. Not for her. She deserves what she wants.”
“Prez, she wants you. Everything else is just a bonus. You know that. Have you talked to your sister? Maybe it would help to talk to someone who you can relate to.”
“No. I’m too ashamed. If I could turn back time and stop being a dumb fucking kid, I would. One choice and I did it on a dare. I fucking shoved fireworks down my pants because some guys at school were picking on me, calling me weak. I wasn’t fucking weak.” He pops open another beer and tosses the cap into the cooler.
Boomer never litters. He recycles everything he can. I try to remember, but I’m nowhere near as good at it as he is.
“And my need to prove myself ended up costing the one thing I love most in the world: her dreams. How fucked-up is that, One-Eye?” He turns his head to me and he has this lost expression on his face that I’ve never seen before. His eyes dance over mine, not once lingering on the patch. “You’re a good dad, One-Eye, so when I’m telling you do not risk yourself to get your revenge, please don’t. That little girl needs you. You’ve already gotten your revenge. The brother is dead, you have his girl, and his daughter calls you Dad, not him. We will take care of the brother.”
When he lays it all out like that, it sounds so simple. But it’s so hard to bury that emotion. That visceral need to get my retribution is strong. I’ve never had anything like I have now. A family. A real one. And while Alicia and I might be on the outs right now, she’s still my family.
And if there is one thing I’ve learned from this life, it’s that the Ruthless Kings will turn this world upside down for family.
“Boomer, I know anything I say right now is going to go through one ear and out the other because you are thinking a certain way. What’s going on does not make you less of a man, I see that and I know Scarlett does. Life is screwed up. I have one eye and that side that’s hidden is ruined. I have insecurities too. You’ll get through it. You’ll get your family because family isn’t always blood. That’s what I have learned since following you. Don’t get hung up on this thought that a baby needs to be born out of your flesh and blood for you to love him or her. You’re going to be a great dad one day, Prez. No matter what path life chooses for you.”
His fingers tap on the bottle and that’s when I see his finger missing, reminding me that all of us are monsters in some way. We’re all scarred. We’re all fucked-up. We’re all learning to live too.
“You’re pretty good at this One-Eye. I felt like I haven’t been able to talk to anyone about this. I didn’t want to seem weak. I know it’s the exact opposite of how I say we always have to be open here, but it’s hard. It was hard to admit it to myself, much less be transparent with the guys. When Pulse told me, he had to sedate me. I was so fucking mad I destroyed my bedroom. I became a danger to myself. I already have one danger.” He taps the side of his temple. “And then this, I felt so fucking useless. On a constant loop, all I heard was ‘you’re a sorry excuse of a man’ or ‘what good are you to her? She can find a man that can give her everything she needs’ or ‘you should kill yourself because you’re useless.’”
“Prez, how long has that been going on for? You okay?” Boomer made his mental illness clear when we chose him to lead us. He has obsessive intrusive thoughts, and I can’t imagine how the information Pulse told him sent him over the edge.
“They aren’t on a loop anymore, but it was bad at first. It was hard not to take a hit to my pride, you know? I’m a man. I’m supposed to be able to fuck my wife and get her pregnant if I want.”
His crass words don’t bother me any. I’d feel the same way if Alicia and I ever decided to have kids.
“I think it will happen. I have faith.”
“It’s a good thing you do, because I’ve just about lost all mine.” His sadness vanishes in an instant when Scarlett begins to run to him, her long dark hair wet and sticking to her skin. She’s smiling too, and it’s like all the agony and anger vanishes from Boomer’s face. His happiness is genuine when it comes to her, but damn, he masks his pain well.
I guess that’s the bitch about sadness, depression, or anger, or whatever else someone is feeling, if they are used to feeling it, they are used to covering it up.
She slams into him, soaking wet from the ocean, and tackles him to the ground. He spills his beer and I try to catch it, but it’s too late. It’s already pouring into the sand, right on top of a hermit crab. I snag it away, so he doesn’t drown in beer, but he’s probably already drunk.
Sorry, little guy.
“Come swim with me,” she implores him, her voice sultry and promising a good time.
“You don’t have to ask me twice. I’ll meet you in there.” He slaps her ass, and she yelps, laughing while running away. “God, my woman is fucking hot.” He adjusts himself in his swim shorts as he stands. “Thanks for the talk, One-Eye. I appreciate it.”
“We all need someone to talk to, Prez. I’m around if you ever want to talk again.”
“Same here. I don’t know what’s going on with you and Alicia, but if you need help figuring it out, I’m around.”
I lift my beer to thank him, and he dashes toward the ocean, joining his lady out in the deep blue sea.
“Sucks, don’t it?” Wolf asks from behind me.
“What?”
“To miss someone so much, to want them so much, and to know you might not ever have it.”
I turn around to talk to Wolf, but he’s already gone, probably to his room. He doesn’t talk much anymore, so when he does, we always try to make him feel better. Nothing works. His grief is so strong and I’m afraid his grief will be the death of him.
Dropping the beer bottle, I pull out my phone and take a few pictures of Kimmy and send them to Alicia.
My phone beeps.
“I’m not able to download anything right now. I’m at the hospital. I’m fine. One of the patients at the office today had a stroke and we are sticking around to see how she is. Are the pictures of Kimmy? Is she okay?”
“I’m sorry to hear about the patient.” But who the hell is ‘we’? Her boss? I don’t like that. “Kimmy is fine. We’re just outside playing on the beach. It’s pictures of her.”
“Aw, I bet she’s having fun. And yeah, it’s scary. Dr. Lancer is pacing a trench in the floor. He’s so worried.”
“I bet.” I text the reply and press send. “Doctor Lancer,” I mock while googling him.