Page 2 of Take Me Big Boy
“How many?” I cut him off.
“Galloway.”
“Tell me!”
“Three of us made it out. William had his surgery this morning, and he’s in recovery. You had the worst of the injuries—your heart kept stopping. You suffered wounds to the left side of your body with damage to your left shoulder and left knee, but the doctor said if you woke up, then you’d make a full recovery with surgery and physical therapy—”
“Fuck that!” I hiss.
The nurse takes one look at the two of us and steps quietly out, pulling the door closed behind her. Smart woman.
“Where am I?” I bite out, the question landing late, but I need the answer.
“Landstuhl,” Miller says. “Germany. They flew us out three days ago for the surgical units.”
That much, at least, makes sense. Landstuhl is where wounded operators go when stateside hospitals are too far. Means I’m stabilized enough to have survived the flight. Means I’ve been here, unconscious, while my squad—
I can’t finish the thought.
“I’m not having any fucking surgery!”
“What the fuck are you talking about, Galloway?”
“Five men are dead!” I roar, my voice scratching out of me and burning my throat, but I don’t give a damn about my own discomfort anymore. I can’t fucking think beyond the weight inmy chest. The memories in my head. The screams that won’t stop replaying. “It’s my fault—”
“It’s not!”
“The explosion—”
“There was no way of spotting the IED in time to avoid it. This is no one’s fault but the monsters who planted it on the road.”
“It was my job to find it,” I mutter, my eyes burning. I close them, but instead of black, all I see is Johnny yelling to watch out seconds before the Humvee went airborne. Eight men in that vehicle, and only three made it back alive. I was the lead scout. Bear, my canine partner, and I had walked that stretch of road a dozen times—that’s why we took it again, because I’d cleared it before. The IED had to have been planted that morning. And I missed it. Bear missed it. My chest seizes again at the thought of Bear and the realization I’ll never see him again. Thankfully he hadn’t been in the Humvee with us, but I know without being told I’ll never see him again, never return to active duty again. “I should have died with them.”
“Stop!”
Miller is much closer than he was before; those hard eyes on mine. “Every soldier that is deployed to a hostile territory understands that there is a chance they may not make it back home in one piece. It is the consequence of war.” If possible, his eyes harden further as they do when he’s locked in combat. “You were my LPO, Galloway. You ran point with the best dog in the platoon. No one walked that road cleaner than you did, and every one of those men knew it.” He doesn’t let me look away. “You have a duty to our fallen brothers to live and heal. You insult the men whose lives were lost by choosing to wallow inguilt over something you had no control over. They died so you could live. Do not waste their sacrifice!”
I turn away to stare at the ceiling. I knew every single one of those men in that Humvee—had spent years serving with them. Had walked that road ahead of them with Bear at my side, my best dog, the one I’d trusted more than my own eyes. I trusted them with my life as much as they trusted me with theirs, and I let them down.
They’re dead, and I’m not.
We don’t say another word until the doctor arrives minutes later, and I only speak when Miller practically pushes me into giving verbal consent to the surgery. My mind barely registers the words the doctor speaks; it’s all white noise to my ears. I can’t hear anything beyond the horror replaying over and over in my mind.
“Galloway!”
I turn when someone pats my good shoulder to find Miller watching me with something akin to worry. I can tell that it’s not the first time he’s called my name, and something on my face must be alarming enough to shake even the unit leader. “What?”
“The surgery…” He shakes his head, letting out a low, tired sigh. “Where do you plan to go once you’re out of the hospital?”
Right. Because I can’t go back to base. Not until I’m better and can fucking walk. Something tells me not even then. I suppose there’s only one place left to go. “Utah,” I grunt, turning away to glare at the ceiling. “I’m going back home.”
With my world crushed to pieces, it only makes sense that I would go back to the rocky desert of the only place that would accept a broken man like myself. The same hometown my brother begged me not to leave twenty years ago when I joinedthe Navy and shipped out for basic training. All I have left in that place is my brother.
Twenty years later, I’m going home a broken man.
Aren’t I lucky?
Chapter One
