Page 157 of Sloane

I was so full of shit.

That wasn’t the reason I wanted a bassinet in his room, but just like I couldn’t admit that I wanted our nightly trysts as much as he did, I wasn’t going to acknowledge that I’d like to fall asleep in his arms again, too.

No, scratch that. I’d love it.

Chapter Fifty-Six

Sloane

Being able to use a cane made using a ride share a helluva lot easier. Although, it felt weird to sit in the back of a Hyundai Sonata, especially when we pulled onto the base, and I had to hand the guard my credentials from the rear passenger seat.

The man saluted me then waved us through, and my driver commented, “I thought you had to be in uniform to be saluted.”

“He saw my rank on my identification, so he still needs to salute an officer.”

I earned that salute, motherfucker.

“What would have happened if he didn’t?”

“Probably nothing today because I don’t have the energy to deal with that shit. But a Marine isn’t going to get away with disrespect very long before he’s taught a lesson the hard way.”

“That doesn’t sound fun.”

“It’s not.”

After instructing my driver where to drop me off, he said, “Have a nice day,” then drove away.

With a deep breath, I looked around. A group of recruits running by in step with a familiar cadence call made me smile. It’d been a while since I’d been on this base. In a lot of ways, it felt like I was coming home.

And I had a sneaky suspicion my higher ups were going to try to evict me. That was why I’d been called here.

Taking a step toward the door, I murmured out loud, “Only one way to find out.”

~~~~

“I’m not interested,” I told Lieutenant Colonel Chavez the second he mentioned a medical retirement.

“You don’t have to make any decisions until you’ve recovered further, obviously. But why don’t you meet with a personal financial management specialist and discuss what a medical retirement would look like.”

“I don’t care about the financial aspect. I can still be of service.”

“I have no doubt you can be. But you have plenty of options should you decide to retire. Or even if you want to try it temporarily, that’s a possibility.”

“I don’t want to try it.”

“Have you thought about the Recovery Coordination Program?”

“We talked about it when I was in San Antonio, then this opportunity with the Wounded Warrior Program opened up.”

“Maybe you should reconsider. It provides more assistance than just physical recovery.”

“I know, mind, body, spirit, and family.”

They’d given me the whole spiel. It was the family part that had made me decline in San Antonio.

Chavez gave me the commanding officer stare—a cross between concerned dad and annoyed drill sergeant. Mine had gotten pretty good, before the explosion.

“It’s another option for you.”

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