Page 35 of Running Risk

CLAYTON: THEN

“Ooh-rah!” the group of guys and I all yell as we clink our glasses. We drove to a tavern in LA to celebrate graduating from training camp. It’s been long and excruciating, but it feels good to be part of something. The four guys at the table have my back like I have theirs.

“Alright, Daniels. It’s been months. Time to spill the beans about your life in Georgia.

You’re the tightest-lipped guy here.” My buddy, Trey, nudges my shoulder.

He has black hair and is a little shorter than six feet, but he’s one of the strongest guys I know.

I swear, no one benches more than he does.

I shake my head and take a sip of my Coke. Tracing the rim of my glass, I shrug my shoulders. “Nothing to say.” I don’t like to talk about my life before I enlisted. There are too many old wounds.

“That’s such bullshit,” Mikey scoffs. He has bleach-blonde hair and looks like one of those lifeguards on Baywatch.

Every time he talks to a woman, his teeth sparkle.

“We all have baggage, but most of us aren’t sealed up like a vault.

” He throws the rest of his beer back. He’s older than the rest of us, joining the Marines in his early twenties rather than joining right out of high school.

We tease him sometimes and call him daddy, but we all look up to him.

He’s one of the hardest-working men I’ve met.

“Okay. Leave him alone,” Mitch says next to me.

I’ve gotten the closest to him after meeting him at the airport.

His baggage is different than mine, but we all have some wounds that only a lost love can make in your life.

He has brown hair and was a toothpick when he first joined.

He’s filled out, but he’s the smartest one in our group.

I know he’s going to be in a type of tech position.

“We finally get him to come out with us, and you guys are ragging on him.”

I lean back in my chair, watching the guys grumble before moving on to argue about a game playing on the TV.

They’re always making bets. I’m content sitting and watching them bicker.

They know this isn’t my type of scene, but I came to humor them after shooting them down dozens of times.

I prefer to spend my nights running around the base.

I also don’t feel right about going out drinking, even though this bar will always serve anyone in the military.

Laughter rings through my ears, making them perk up at the sound. My spine straightens as my eyes frantically scan every table before landing at the bar.

There she is.

Rylee sits on a stool with a green low-cut tank top and jean shorts.

Her flip-flops dangle from her toes, and her hair is longer than I remember.

It also looks slightly lighter, maybe from too much sun.

Her smile takes up her face as she looks at the guy across from her.

My body locks up while my mind runs through every question possible.

Who’s this guy? What’s she doing here? Who’s this guy to her?

Is she here on vacation? How did she meet this guy?

How long has she been here? Who the hell is this guy ?

She seems comfortable with him but not overly herself, and I can tell she still has a few guards up.

She keeps her hands to herself, but I’ve caught him on more than one occasion touching her in some way.

A small graze across her back, a small touch on her elbow, and a graze on her thigh.

I continue to watch her because she still hasn’t seen me.

I don’t even know what I would say to her, or if she’d even talk to me.

It’s been—god, I don’t even know how long it’s been since the last time I’ve talked to her.

Being without the best friend I’ve had for the majority of my life feels like a piece of me is missing. Now that she’s right here, twelve feet away, I can’t help but want to move closer. Let my body be whole again.

“You okay?”

I startle, realizing that Mitch is talking to me. My lips press into a firm line, and my heartbeat thumps loudly. The sound echoes in my ears as my fists clench at my sides, and a cramp starts in my shoulders from them being shrugged into my neck.

“Yeah.” I glare at the guy Rylee is with again.

Mitch turns his head in the direction I’m looking. “Know her?”

God, isn’t that a loaded question. Yeah, I thought I knew this girl.

I thought she was someone I would talk to every single day for the rest of my life.

I thought she was my best friend. I pry my eyes away, grabbing Mitch’s beer and chugging the rest of it.

“No,” I growl and take one last look at her.

“I have to get out of here. I’ll see you back at base.

” I shove my way out of the bar before anyone can say anything.

The fresh night air hits me as soon as I get on the sidewalk and lets my lungs fill before exhaling.

I know I can’t run all the way back to base, but I can at least get part of the way there and then call an Uber when I can’t make it any farther.

I start running, letting my legs warm up before pushing them harder.

I don’t need an injury right now, but I also need to clear my head.

I don’t have my earphones, so all I hear are cars driving by, people talking as I run by, and my feet pounding on the pavement.

My strides get longer, and before long, I fly past everything.

Even if I tried to see what the details of a person’s face were, I couldn’t.

I push myself harder and harder. She was at the bar with another guy.

A woman startles as I run around her, but I don’t slow down.

I would have done anything for her, and I almost put my fears aside and followed her to college.

But would I have been the man she needed me to be?

My legs burn, but I push harder. Could I have grown as a person when I was in constant fear of becoming someone like my dad?

I turn and go down another sidewalk, but this one is up a hill, and my breathing gets louder as I keep going.

That man took off, and I haven’t heard from him in years.

He wasn’t able to take my childhood home, and he bolted.

It pissed him off that I joined the military because he wanted me to be like him. I am nothing like him.

My legs halt halfway up the hill, and I bend over, breathing heavily. My eyes pinch closed while I try to calm down, but I can’t. I collapse to the ground and put my head between my knees. My lungs burn and my legs throb, but the relief I feel is instant.

I am nothing like him.

After months of being gone and throwing myself into this lifestyle, I can finally say I’m nothing like my dad.

He was always cutting corners at work, trying to get the most money for the least amount of work.

I am always doing extra and helping others when I don’t need to.

He didn’t care if he hurt someone as long as he was happy.

It kills me that I couldn’t be the man Rylee deserved, and one day, I’ll fix it with her.

A car pulls over next to me, and the passenger door swings open. Mitch straightens in his seat behind the wheel. He jerks his head to the side. “Come on. Get in.”