Page 129

“Yeah, you’re free to go. General Winter will be happy to know you’re in top shape,” Troy said, keeping the air of professionalism.

Oscar didn’t wait for Troy, practically running to the curtain and opening it to step out into the hallway. Troy followed as Oscar made for the doorway, his steps stuttering and noticeably slower than the last time Troy had seen him. Troy watched him, telling himself this was for the best, and kept his lips closed tightly.

As Oscar stepped out of the clinic doors and into the sun, he stopped. Troy’s heart beat a heavy staccato rhythm as Oscar turned and looked back at him. It was only for a moment, but it was long enough for Troy to see pain and indecision in the man’s face. God save him, it was just like the night Oscar had left before being shipped overseas, and Troy felt his heart rip in two all over again.

And then Oscar was gone.

Troy didn’t know how long he stood there, staring at the double doors, until he felt a hand on his shoulder. Sucking in asharp breath, Troy whirled around to find Dean behind him, a concerned frown on his face.

“What’s up?” Troy asked in a rush.

“I was about to ask you the same thing,” Dean said.

Troy forced a smile. “He’s right as rain, fit for duty. You can look over the report to make sure I didn’t fuck it up and send it on to General Winter.”

Dean hesitated. “Um, sure, but?—”

“I’m going to go do inventory,” Troy said, pushing past Dean before he could finish whatever he was going to say.

“You hate inventory,” Dean called after him.

“It’s on the list,” Troy called, holding the tablet over his head and wiggling it for emphasis.

He hurried down the hallway, past the office, and, pressing a sequence of buttons on the keypad, slipped into the supply room. Troy shuffled forward, placing the tablet on a shelf. Resting his hand on one of the metal shelving units, Troy bent and took a slow, calming breath.

“Fuck,” he muttered, voice cracking.

Tears threatened, burning his eyes and closing his throat tight. He’d pushed all this aside, beat it into submission, and denied it a place in his heart. Without Oscar around, Troy had figured out how to move on, live his life, have some fun, and just be himself again. Just seeing Oscar’s face, the score of battle scars and wounds, and that same agonized expression as he left was too much.

Troy sucked in a sharp breath, shaking his head. “No, we’re not doing this, Troy, no.”

Shoving his pain aside, he bore down on his emotions and wrangled them into his grasp. The tears retreated, and while it was still harder than usual to breathe, his chest didn’t feel like it was in a vice anymore. Straightening, he reached for the tablet, opened the inventory list, and returned to work.

He wasn’t doing this again, no more.

OSCAR

Following the incredibly awkward reunion with Troy, Oscar did the only thing he could think of. Make straight for the on-base gym. He wasn’t supposed to be working too hard, though he’d been encouraged to maintain a workout routine to help with the healing process. The problem for Oscar was that if he couldn’t drink because of the meds, then he needed to dosomethingto calm the raging storm in his head.

It didn’t help.

Two hours of pushing himself to his limit and beyond had done nothing to help him forget Troy’s big blue eyes looking up at him, his pain and regret boring deep into Oscar’s heart. The flash of horror and sorrow when Troy realized how maimed and mangled Oscar was was almost too much for Oscar, and it sat at the back of his mind even as he tried his best to focus on counting reps.

God, Troy had done nothing but improve with age. He’d never been scrawny, but he’d filled out. There was more muscle definition to his arms, and what baby fat had been in Troy’s face in his late teens had faded with time. Troy’s features had grown more angular, not quite thin, but retaining a strong masculinity. When that same impish light of mischief had reached Troy’seyes as he’d taunted him, Oscar had thought his heart would be squeezed to nothing.

By the time he returned to his apartment, Oscar was exhausted and worn out on every level possible. For the first time in weeks, he opened the bottle of sleeping pills and downed them alongside the pain pills. He hated how the sleeping pills dragged him down into sleep, whether he was ready or not, but he was willing to accept all that if it meant he could get away from his thoughts and his memories.

Memories he’d shoved deep into the depths of his mind, where they should have stayed.

“I don’t understand,”Troy whispered, voice barely audible but dripping with pain.

Oscar shouldered his bag, drawing it closer as if he could use it as a shield. “You had to know this was coming, Troy.”

Troy’s blue eyes swept over Oscar’s face, full of fear and confusion. “How could I have seen this? How could I see you...ending things?”

“You knew they were going to put me in the field at some point,” Oscar muttered.

“Yeah, and?”