Mad Minute Page 2

  All their plans torn apart by one false step followed by an explosion so loud it had rattled his bones, blown to pieces along with his career, his confidence, and his heart.

  “What are you doing here?” He pressed his forehead against Katie’s, laughing when she went cross-eyed trying to focus on him. “I didn’t expect to see you, Katie-bug.”

  “Mommy said it was a surprise.” She chewed on her bottom lip, eyes ringed with white. “Are you surprised, Daddy?”

  “Oh, yeah. Very surprised.” He stared at her in awe for a moment, floored by the fact she was here, now, when he’d just been wishing for something exactly this. How the hell did this come about? “It’s a good surprise.”

  “The best.” Katie nodded fast, then rolled her eyes as she pretended to be dizzy while he held her steady. “I missed you, Daddy. You moved a long way away.”

  “I know.” Nathan swallowed hard. “I had to.”

  Her voice dropped to a bare whisper. “Mommy said you had to, too. Said you couldn’t get better at our house. Why, Daddy? Why did you have to go?” Chin quivering, she bared her pain when she asked in a tear-thickened voice, “Why?”

  Yeah, Nathan, why? Things that had seemed so crystal-clear months ago now were muddy and dark, clarity lost in the pain-filled interim. Days spent missing his family, his job, while every long night was grief-filled because he was missing his whole life. Those times that came before he’d been wrecked and left on the side of the pathway, parts torn from him until he was a bloody mess, inside and out.

  “You remember the hospital?” Piss-scented hallways, sleepless nights spent fighting the pain, the feeling of desperation carried into the morning’s bleak sunrise by a steady tide of groans and shouts of anger. He’d hated the times Cath had brought Katie to see him, because he hadn’t wanted that to become a memory for her. Not one associated with her daddy, the man who’d stood tall and proud, who’d flown her superhero-style over his head, who’d banished the monsters from her closet. He remembered it only too well, had been glad to see the last of that place. “They did all they could to help Daddy.” She scrunched up her nose, and he nodded. “Yeah, they couldn’t make it better, so Daddy had to find someone who could help him.”

  That someone had been Kirby, a brother even before he’d offered Nathan his patch. Nathan had never been part of an MC before, had only ridden along the fringes on charity runs, but he’d been envious of the connection those men had. Then there’d been Kirby, holding out hope for a kind of camaraderie Nathan had been missing, longing for. He’d been willing to take on someone like Nathan, crippled and useless, and who was Nathan to say no? He’d jumped at the chance, then found out all the other pieces Kirby wanted to do, which only made it an even more attractive offer.

  “Did you? Did you find someone? Are you coming home now?”

  A woman’s voice in the other room saved him from answering, and he looked up in time to see Cathy walk into view, head turned to the side as she chatted with Oscar, who was no doubt bringing her in here next.

  “Mommy.” Katie bounced on his thighs, and Nathan suppressed a pained groan as the socket twisted. “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy. I found Daddy.”

  Chapter Two

  Cathy

  “Hey, Cathy. Check it out. She found him.” Oscar tipped his head towards an open doorway where Katie had disappeared a few seconds ago. It was darker in that room than this, so it took Cathy’s eyes a moment to adjust. Then she saw them. Saw him.

  She had loved Nathan almost from the first time she’d met him. A laughing, boasting, handsome, larger-than-life man occupying a booth in her section of the little hometown diner where she’d worked summers. He’d been seated with his friends, talking about some pickup basketball game they’d just won, and he’d jokingly accepted accolades and shaken his head even as they embellished each story, enlarging his part in every play that took the team to the win. It was all in jest, of course, and in reality, as she’d come to know him well, Nathan turned out to be one of the most modest men she’d ever met.

  Humble but driven, and due to that trait, borne along by a deep confidence in his own abilities. He’d talked about all the things he’d wanted to do, moving to a stool at the counter long after his friends had gone home. Drinking cup after cup of coffee as an excuse to stay and talk, and talk. And listen, since eventually, he’d asked enough leading questions to get her over her shyness.

  Nathan had walked her home that night, pestering until he had not only her phone number but her schedule for the next two weeks. He’d appeared back at the door the next morning with a box of pastries in hand and waltzed past her best friend, up the hallway, and into her bedroom to give her the kind of sweet wake-up call all women dreamed of. A week later, knowing she’d gone home for a visit, he’d talked his way into her parents’ home and, by the time she’d made it downstairs, had been ensconced in the kitchen with a mug of coffee in hand, avidly listening to her father’s stories about his days in the military.

  When Nathan had decided to enlist, she hadn’t opposed the idea. Although they’d been dating for months, they were not yet married and she’d held her tongue. They’d been seated in the back row at a movie when he’d turned to her in the theater, eyes shining in eagerness after watching a video advertisement during the previews, and said, “I’m gonna do it,” and she hadn’t told him no. Even having heard dozens of her mother’s stories to lend a sense of caution to her own excitement, because the life of a military spouse was far from glamorous, she hadn’t told him no.

  His first call home during basic scared her. He’d sounded so beaten, exhausted in a way she’d never heard him, and yet there had still been that drive to compete, to be better. The next call had been different, cautiously confident in his abilities, and promising her the world if she’d just stick with him. Graduation had been the game changer, when unbeknownst to her, he’d already talked to her father. So when he got down on one knee in the middle of the field full of men in uniforms just like his, her dad had been the one handing him a ring to place on her finger.

  They’d had a quick wedding, more easily accomplished than she’d expected, and as simply as that, she’d become Mrs. Nathan Smith. A week later she’d been holding his hand through the window of a bus, feeling empty and lost when their grip finally slipped, the bus gaining speed and leaving her standing at the side of the road in a cloud of exhaust and exhaustion.

  The first of many separations through the years, him stationed temporarily in locations that only offered provisional family housing or deployed into the war zones of the Middle East. Mission-oriented, those camps weren’t pseudo towns where the men and women could bring family, which meant their frequent video chats were even more of a lifeline to her. She’d never asked him to give it up, not when it was good and not when it was tough. Even after they had Katie, she’d held firm on following the path they had laid out together as a family. She worked, had gotten a business degree, managed their home and her career, and loved her husband enough to hold tight to what they had.

  Cathy didn’t know if he understood how she’d found out he was injured, if he’d learned of the delay in notification. Her first indication of something gone wrong was his missed chat. One virtual date passed, then another, and when she’d reached out to women who had husbands in the same unit, they’d only known there were losses but no names. Every car door slam outside their house had her on edge, waiting for the notification she dreaded with every fiber of her being. Days and days of limbo, every nerve stretched thin, shielding Katie from everything as much as she could.

  When it had finally come, the news had been good. “He’s alive but injured and being transferred stateside for treatment.”

  That was when the real nightmare began.

  The first visit had been a disaster, Katie too excited about seeing Daddy, Cathy too nervous, and Nathan too angry. His shouted curses heard from down the hallway had been her first warning, the rolled eyes of an orderly her second. Still, she’d persiste
d, wanting—no, needing—to see her husband for herself, to verify he was alive and breathing. She’d rounded the open door with Katie in her arms just in time to see Nathan throw a table towards the window, where it bounced off ineffectually. His scream of anger pierced the fog she’d been in since receiving the phone call, and she’d cradled Katie’s head to her shoulder as she waited for him to see them.

  Head back, neck straining with the force of his yell, he’d finally turned to look towards the door where she stood, their daughter in her arms. Red-faced, veins bulging at his temples, he’d lifted clenched fists and pounded the sides of his face as he screamed for her to leave. “Get out,” he yelled. “Get out, get out, getout, getoutgetout.” Over and over, he’d shouted at her, reverberations of his rage echoing through the room, her body shaking with the impact of his fury. Far from the loving reunion she’d hoped for, he’d rejected her and their life—and when Katie, tiny sweet Katie, asked who the angry man was, Cathy had fled.

  Subsequent visits had been better, but that was a relative term, and for the first time in her life with Nathan, Cathy hadn’t known what to do. She couldn’t fix this, couldn’t help him, couldn’t make it better. He seemed to know what he wanted, the entirety of which was her gone, something that was at odds with the loving and gentle man her husband had always been. He’d remained adamant, seated firmly in his rejection of their life, and finally, not knowing what else to do, she’d taken a step back and waited, hoping he’d come to a different conclusion eventually.

  He hadn’t, and before she’d known what was happening, he’d been gone, separated from the military that had been his home for so long, and from her and Katie, the people he’d once said he loved more than breath. A change of address card was the only warning that he didn’t see himself coming home.

  It had taken months until Cathy understood through long conversations with a counselor provided by the military, but finally, she got it. While she was no less angry at Nathan now than she’d been in the beginning, she at least tried to understand why he’d pushed them away. Why he’d demanded space to learn how life fit around him in this new shape.

  In her mind, he’d had enough time. She was here in the middle of nowhere Texas because she was on a mission. It was time to get her family back.

  She stared through the door at the cluster of bodies on the floor, Nathan seated with legs extended, Katie in his lap, cuddled close and holding on with all the strength in her tiny arms. He wasn’t yelling, wasn’t screaming at them to go, and that felt like a win. Katie called out happily, and Cathy held her breath as Nathan’s gaze caught hers. Then the light in his eyes faded, his features set in harsh lines, and he lifted Katie from his lap, settling her feet on the floor.

  “Go to Momma, Katie-bug.” Nathan bent over and fiddled with something on his leg, then looked up at Katie, who hadn’t moved, staring down at him. “Don’t stare.” Voice roughened with some emotion, he shook his head. “Stop it. It’s not polite to look at cripples.” Katie stayed where she was, gaze fixed on her father’s face. It looked like an attempt to hide when he angled his head down again and continued to fuss with whatever it was. “Oscar, brother.” Warmth in his voice was surprising after he’d just been cool to Katie. “Gonna need some sticks. I jacked the leg up when I fell.”

  “Damn, man. Want me to get your other leg?” Oscar walked towards Nathan and stooped by his legs, reaching out to run his fingers over the same place Nathan had been working with. “Let me get you off the floor at least.”

  “No.” Nathan shook his head. “I can manage.”

  “Yeah, you can. Don’t mean you have to.” Oscar glanced up at Katie, who still stood beside Nathan’s shoulder. “Wanna help your daddy with me?” Her little girl looked at Cathy, who nodded encouragingly. “Okay, you pull up on his arm there, and we’ll get him off the floor.”

  “Daddy?” Katie’s voice trembled, and she scooted a half step away. “What’s wrong?”

  “Daddy’s leg got hurt, Katie bug.” Cathy held tight to the doorframe, afraid to move towards them. If Nathan rejected her again, here, today, she didn’t know if she could fit the pieces together again. “We talked about that. I told you how part of his leg is gone, and now he gets to use a robot leg to help him walk.”

  “He fell down.” Katie was staring at her, and Cathy was glad, as it meant their little girl didn’t see the pain and anger that swept over Nathan’s face. “Why did he fall down? He got a boo-boo, Momma. I said you’d kiss it better.”

  “Let’s get you up, brother.” Oscar stood over Nathan and dragged an ottoman closer. “On three.” He bent and gripped Nathan’s belt, working his fingers around the stout leather. Nathan rested his hands on Oscar’s shoulders. “One,” she could see Nathan’s muscles tense, “two,” Oscar set his feet firmly, “three,” he lifted, and Nathan’s good leg bent, getting underneath himself as best he could as Oscar pivoted until Nathan sat on the ottoman.

  “Leg’s borked, bro.” Nathan shoved Oscar’s hands away. “Leave it. I want it on for now. Fuckin’ leave it.”

  “Ohhhh. Daddy said a bad word.” Katie giggled. “Mommy says even if Donny says that word, I can’t. Donny says his mommy uses it all the time. He told me she never stops using it. Mommy, did you hear Daddy?”

  The cool façade of Nathan’s expression cracked the tiniest amount, and Cathy met his eyes over their daughter’s head. Katie remained happily chattering away about the little boy at her preschool who got in trouble a lot about his language. Everything faded to the background, Oscar fussing around Nathan’s legs, Katie swinging on his arm as she yanked and tried to get his attention. Nathan’s gaze held everything Cathy had hoped to see. Love and hope, even if it was tempered by sadness and pain. He wasn’t unhappy to see them, and any guilt she’d felt at her subterfuge over Christmas fell away.

  I have a week to make this work.

  She stared into the eyes of the only man she’d ever loved and said a prayer.

  It has to work.

  Chapter Three

  Nathan

  “You knew she was comin’.” He kept his tone even, forcing down his anger and hurt that his friend would ambush him in this way. “You listened to me bitch and moan about not being allowed to go and see my little girl, and let me carry on and on, knowing the whole time that Cathy was comin’ here.”

  Cathy had taken Katie to the bathroom. The shift in his daughter’s demeanor had been abrupt, going from loving on him to being afraid of him, to laughing hysterically about his “bad word” slipup, and finally to jumping on one leg while screeching that she “had to go.” As she had with everything in their lives together, Cathy had taken it all in stride, managing Katie’s excitement in an unfamiliar place while surrounded by evidence of the life he was making without them. Wasn’t much of a life, he knew, but the men here had his back, no questions asked.

  Except apparently Oscar, who was a traitor of the highest order.

  “Got that right. I knew it and didn’t say a damn word.” Oscar nodded with a sour grin. “You’d’a told her no.”

  “Damn right I would have. I don’t need them to see me like this.” He gestured towards the floor. “When my little girl’s runnin’ at me to be picked up, and I fall on my ass? I fall on my ass, right in front of her. Brother, that’s not how I want her to remember me.”

  “But you want her to remember you, right?” Oscar paused in the doorway. “Because to have her remember you, that means you gotta be around. Think on that a minute, brother. I’m going to get your crutches. Be right back.”

  Nathan grimaced as he watched Oscar walk out of sight. Be right back.

  That could be a tagline for his life these days. People moving around him all the time, leaving him stuck on an island in the middle of a stream that was his life. He hated being dependent on anyone, had always been the guy others turned to when they had problems. The friend they leaned on when they needed something, anything. He’d twist himself into knots to try and help those he loved, and
he knew it wasn’t rational, but he had never expected others to do the same for him.

  Men in the field learned to trust and depend on each other, sure. Mutual survival demanded that kind of interwoven responsibility to ensure a cohesive unit. He’d never had a problem with that on missions, or even training for a mission. Learning each other’s strengths and weaknesses simply meant you’d all work in lockstep together, lifting each other up and over whatever barrier or wall there was. Brotherhood in its purest form, and something that felt nearly like a religion at times. He’d known men who didn’t do well on leave, since they felt like they were missing a piece of themselves. A third leg or arm that wasn’t necessary for day-to-day living but had become so much a part of their daily fabric that just being away lent an undefined sense of unease.

  He’d lost that third leg, and part of a second one, and what was left? Not enough to stand on.

  Pain rippled up from his toes through the calf, into the stubbie and up to his hip, nerves firing in spontaneous patterns of agony. Nathan closed his eyes and rode out the discomfort, holding his breath for a five-count before blowing it out slowly. He kept that cycle for a few long moments, trying to force some semblance of control into place.

  “Does it hurt much? Katie said you fell, Nathan. Are you okay?” Cathy’s voice was soft and close, and he looked up at her standing in front of him, crutches clutched to her.

  The concern on her face tore at something in his chest, an oozing wound gained when he lost the leg, lost his place on his squad, lost his place in the world, and he froze at the feeling. She almost looks like she still— He cut off the thought viciously, shoving the idea to the side with enough effort maybe it wouldn’t come back to haunt him.

  “Nathan…I—”

  “I’m fine.” He kept his voice deliberately clipped and curt, and after delivering those two words, watched her waver on her feet, as if hit with the concussive wave from an explosion.