Closer to the Edge
Page 40
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I turn on my crutches and see him leaning against the doorframe that leads down the hall to the bedrooms. Looking at him, he seems like the epitome of calm and cool, but I can see a muscle ticking in his jaw and I briefly wonder if I should just let him kick my ass and get it over with. There’s no sense in fighting back. I deserve a good, swift punch to the face and it looks like Garrett’s dying to give it to me.
“Well, I’ll leave you two boys alone,” Parker states, breaking the silence. “Annie, Mr. Whiskers and I have a very important tea party to attend.”
Still holding onto Mr. Whiskers, she scoops Annie up into her free arm and walks over to Garrett, leaning up to kiss his cheek. He doesn’t take his eyes off of me as she speaks softly, but loud enough for me to hear. “Please don’t get any blood on the carpet, I just had it cleaned.”
She disappears down the hall with a chattering Annie. Garrett and I stand on opposite sides of the room, squaring off in silence like two gunslingers in an old Western. I hear a door close down the hall and wait for him to speak first. I’m sure he has quite a lot to say to me.
“How’s the knee? Austin said he spoke to you a few weeks ago.”
The irritation in his voice is crystal clear. I’ve pretty much spoken to everyone except him and he’s pissed. He should be. I’m pissed at myself for not coming to him first.
I look away from him and down at my knee, moving it around and flexing it. “Knee’s doing better. Physical therapy is a bitch, but at least I’ll be off these fuckers soon,” I explain, lifting up the crutches.
“Shattered kneecaps are pretty rough to come back from,” he says with a nod.
“If I never see the inside of another hospital room again, it will be too soon,” I add with an uncomfortable laugh.
Jesus Christ, why don’t we just start talking about the weather and shit?
The room fills with silence and I try to come up with something to say so we aren’t standing here like assholes chatting about my knee like there isn’t a giant, ugly, pink fucking elephant standing in the corner.
After a few minutes, I’ve finally had enough.
“For fuck’s sake, will you just tell me how much of a dick I am and get it over with?” I shout in irritation.
Garrett pushes himself off the wall and stalks towards me. “Is that what you need, Cole? You need me to tell you how much you fucked up? You need me to explain to you how many ways I picked up the Goddamn pieces of the mess you left behind? Will that make you feel better, make you finally understand the shit storm that happened because you thought you had to be a fucking hero?”
I throw my crutches away from me angrily and they clatter against the coffee table as I take a step towards Garrett and get up in his face.
“FUCK YOU! I wasn’t trying to be a hero. I was trying to make things right!” I shout.
“You couldn’t bring them back! Leaving the best thing that ever happened to you and turning your back on your FAMILY wasn’t going to magically erase the fact that they’re gone!”
I know when he mentions family that he isn’t talking about my parents or my sister. He’s talking about himself. He’s talking about Parker and Annie and Olivia. They were my real family. They were there when it counted and I let them down.
“Do you think I don’t know that? Do you think it didn’t kill me to leave? You of all people should understand why I had to do it!” I shout.
He smacks his palms against my chest, shoving me backwards and I have to hop a few feet on my good leg to stay upright.
“Of course I fucking understand, asshole! I knew as soon as you got that call from Risner that you were leaving. What I don’t understand is why the hell you couldn’t talk to me about it. Why the fuck you thought you should leave and do it on your own. I would have gone with you.”
“And that’s exactly why I didn’t tell you!” I argue. “How in the fuck could I bring you into that shit and take you away from Parker and Annie? They were MY friends. It was MY duty to kill the assholes who took them from me!”
Garrett shakes his head at me with a pissed off laugh. “Jesus Christ, it’s like you’ve forgotten what it means to be a SEAL. We took a fucking oath. Whatever happens to one, happens to ALL. I dragged your ass away from their bodies while you screamed and punched the shit out of me. I was there when we got off that fucking plane in the states and you could barely stand when they pulled those flag-draped coffins out of the belly of the cargo plane. You don’t think I felt every fucking thing you did? I may not have had the history with Dragon and King like you, but they were still members of my team. You were my fucking BROTHER and it killed me. I had every damn right to make those fuckers pay and to help you get the revenge you deserved and you took that from me because you thought you had to do it on your own. FUCK YOU!”
We stand here toe-to-toe, breathing heavily in anger and I let his words sink in, even though I don’t want to. Garrett was in charge of that mission. Regardless of whether or not Dragon and King were his childhood friends, they still died on his watch. I quickly realize that I don’t have the monopoly on guilt. Garrett has had his own festering inside of him, but I was too focused on my own personal vendetta to see it.
“I’m sorry,” I finally mutter after a few tense minutes.
And just like that, it’s over. We are nothing if not real fucking men. A few shouts, a good swift shove, a muttered apology and we can go back to the way things were.
“Well, I’ll leave you two boys alone,” Parker states, breaking the silence. “Annie, Mr. Whiskers and I have a very important tea party to attend.”
Still holding onto Mr. Whiskers, she scoops Annie up into her free arm and walks over to Garrett, leaning up to kiss his cheek. He doesn’t take his eyes off of me as she speaks softly, but loud enough for me to hear. “Please don’t get any blood on the carpet, I just had it cleaned.”
She disappears down the hall with a chattering Annie. Garrett and I stand on opposite sides of the room, squaring off in silence like two gunslingers in an old Western. I hear a door close down the hall and wait for him to speak first. I’m sure he has quite a lot to say to me.
“How’s the knee? Austin said he spoke to you a few weeks ago.”
The irritation in his voice is crystal clear. I’ve pretty much spoken to everyone except him and he’s pissed. He should be. I’m pissed at myself for not coming to him first.
I look away from him and down at my knee, moving it around and flexing it. “Knee’s doing better. Physical therapy is a bitch, but at least I’ll be off these fuckers soon,” I explain, lifting up the crutches.
“Shattered kneecaps are pretty rough to come back from,” he says with a nod.
“If I never see the inside of another hospital room again, it will be too soon,” I add with an uncomfortable laugh.
Jesus Christ, why don’t we just start talking about the weather and shit?
The room fills with silence and I try to come up with something to say so we aren’t standing here like assholes chatting about my knee like there isn’t a giant, ugly, pink fucking elephant standing in the corner.
After a few minutes, I’ve finally had enough.
“For fuck’s sake, will you just tell me how much of a dick I am and get it over with?” I shout in irritation.
Garrett pushes himself off the wall and stalks towards me. “Is that what you need, Cole? You need me to tell you how much you fucked up? You need me to explain to you how many ways I picked up the Goddamn pieces of the mess you left behind? Will that make you feel better, make you finally understand the shit storm that happened because you thought you had to be a fucking hero?”
I throw my crutches away from me angrily and they clatter against the coffee table as I take a step towards Garrett and get up in his face.
“FUCK YOU! I wasn’t trying to be a hero. I was trying to make things right!” I shout.
“You couldn’t bring them back! Leaving the best thing that ever happened to you and turning your back on your FAMILY wasn’t going to magically erase the fact that they’re gone!”
I know when he mentions family that he isn’t talking about my parents or my sister. He’s talking about himself. He’s talking about Parker and Annie and Olivia. They were my real family. They were there when it counted and I let them down.
“Do you think I don’t know that? Do you think it didn’t kill me to leave? You of all people should understand why I had to do it!” I shout.
He smacks his palms against my chest, shoving me backwards and I have to hop a few feet on my good leg to stay upright.
“Of course I fucking understand, asshole! I knew as soon as you got that call from Risner that you were leaving. What I don’t understand is why the hell you couldn’t talk to me about it. Why the fuck you thought you should leave and do it on your own. I would have gone with you.”
“And that’s exactly why I didn’t tell you!” I argue. “How in the fuck could I bring you into that shit and take you away from Parker and Annie? They were MY friends. It was MY duty to kill the assholes who took them from me!”
Garrett shakes his head at me with a pissed off laugh. “Jesus Christ, it’s like you’ve forgotten what it means to be a SEAL. We took a fucking oath. Whatever happens to one, happens to ALL. I dragged your ass away from their bodies while you screamed and punched the shit out of me. I was there when we got off that fucking plane in the states and you could barely stand when they pulled those flag-draped coffins out of the belly of the cargo plane. You don’t think I felt every fucking thing you did? I may not have had the history with Dragon and King like you, but they were still members of my team. You were my fucking BROTHER and it killed me. I had every damn right to make those fuckers pay and to help you get the revenge you deserved and you took that from me because you thought you had to do it on your own. FUCK YOU!”
We stand here toe-to-toe, breathing heavily in anger and I let his words sink in, even though I don’t want to. Garrett was in charge of that mission. Regardless of whether or not Dragon and King were his childhood friends, they still died on his watch. I quickly realize that I don’t have the monopoly on guilt. Garrett has had his own festering inside of him, but I was too focused on my own personal vendetta to see it.
“I’m sorry,” I finally mutter after a few tense minutes.
And just like that, it’s over. We are nothing if not real fucking men. A few shouts, a good swift shove, a muttered apology and we can go back to the way things were.
