Page 60 of Missing Marcus

Gabby sighed. The anger, the resentment, the nights of loneliness consumed her as she let the tears flow freely. Feeling as if the walls threatened to close in on her, she placed her plate in the sink and searched for her shoes and a jacket. Fresh air might cleanse her soul. She wanted to say goodbye to her one and only friend since she moved to Seattle and tell her how much she appreciated her kindness and compassion when she needed it the most.

31

Knight parked the truck at the facility and rang the doorbell. Torn between wanting to turn the truck around to comfort his distraught wife and desperately needing advice, he waited impatiently for Saint to answer. The door disengaged, allowing him in. A minute later, his brother-in-law walked toward him.

“Sorry, I was finishing a meeting. We’ll head to the kitchen,” Saint informed him as he led the way down the hall. Upon entering, Knight noticed Patch and Whiskey sitting at the table.

“Tess made grilled shrimp with a salad for us. Care to join us?” Patch pointed to a bowl opposite him.

“Sure,” he answered suspiciously as Saint brought various drinks to the table.

A minute later, Leo appeared and joined his men. “Doc drove Kassie home to rest. Claire says she’s free in an hour if we need her.”

Knight sank into the chair and scanned the men. His senses heightened as he watched them focus on their food and glance toward Whiskey and Patch. Scooping a portion of the delicious smelling food into the wide bowl, he grabbed a water and pierced a shrimp with his fork.

Leo cleared his throat and nodded toward Saint.

Sighing, his brother-in-law set down his silverware and leaned back into the chair. “This isn’t an ambush. You’re my family and I’ll happily finish the meal and we can head to my house. It’s come to my attention, Whiskey and Patch saw some things they want to address with you. Since they brought it up, I can see their concerns. Do you want to listen to them or do you prefer to leave?”

Knight picked up the water bottle and gulped down what felt like a golf ball in his throat. He already put his foot in his mouth with these men. What could they possibly say to make him feel any worse? “If you have something to say, then do it.”

Patch placed his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his hands. “We understand you can’t discuss your missions. We’ll try to stick to generalities. You seem closed off and on edge at all times. Did anyone ever discuss PTSD with you or depression?”

Knight’s head jerked back. “You think I have it? I’m a SEAL like the rest of you. I’ve seen crap, done shit and experienced hell. I know how to deal with it. I’m not some pansy-ass who can’t stomach their orders or what they saw.”

Leo growled under his breath, and Patch flipped his hand into the air, warning his leader to back off.

Whiskey sat back in his chair. He glanced over to his teammate, waiting for Patch to continue.

“You think you’re a tough guy, huh? How’s it working for you? You’ve lost your prospects of joining this team, you left your wife for some imaginary affair you cooked up in your head and she can’t wait to divorce your ass,” Patch gritted out. “It seems to me you carry a huge chip on those broad shoulders of yours when you’re about to lose a damn good woman who’s pregnant with your kid.”

Whiskey clasped his hands on the table. “We’re trying to help you. You may not recognize the symptoms from what Matthew’s dug up on you. Regardless of your shitty attitude, you’re still a brother in arms. We help each other in times of need. Do you notice how you go from zero to sixty in a flash? What about lashing out when you feel stressed? You seemed to isolate yourself from your team. They held concerns and when they attempted to reason with you, you caused fights and dissension among your brothers. For example, check yourself now. You’re sitting there with your fists clenched, your jaw clamped shut and you’re ready to strike out at us at any moment.”

Knight’s heart beat wildly in his chest. He slowly glanced down and noticed his body’s reaction to Whiskey’s words. A numbing sensation drifted from his head to his toes. “How do you know all about this stuff?”

Leo crossed his arms and Saint pinched his nose and closed his eyes. Patch caught his stare as the room became unbearably quiet. “We know the symptoms because Whiskey and I suffer from PTSD. It’s not a one-size-fits-all box. I came here months ago and refused to believe anyone understood what I went through. I see a lot of myself in you,” Patch informed him.

“Don’t get him wrong. He’s still an asshole. I believe Claire even wrote it as a personality trait on his medical chart,” Leo added.

Patch sent a one-fingered salute to his leader.

He shook his head in denial. “No one ever mentioned anything about it to me, not even my teammates,” Knight insisted. “If you have it, how do you work here?”

“We go to meetings. Two doctors and a few therapists work at the hospital helping veterans overcome their diagnosis. There’s no magic pill to cure it. There is, however, support for those wanting help,” Whiskey informed him.

“You go to therapy and meetings?” he asked in disbelief. He couldn’t picture the two big men attending meetings, sharing feelings and holding hands like a community cult.

“Yes. I’ve finished outpatient therapy and still attend meetings. When I feel things getting too heavy or something creeps up, I recognize the signs and seek help. Plus, Claire never hesitates to order me to a meeting when she’s put up with enough of my shit,” Patch confessed.

“I spent years as a prisoner. I struggled with returning and nearly lost my wife, Samantha. We asked Saint to bring you here, brother, because we believe you’re lost and your life’s unraveling faster than you can control it. We can’t diagnose you with anything. Claire may be able to help you. It won’t work unless you’re willing to at least meet with her and hear her out. I’m not blowing smoke up your ass. It’s a ton of hard work,” Whiskey said.

“What if she can’t find anything wrong with me?” Knight asked.

“Then we know you’re a general asshole,” Patch responded. “And I’m not sure if that puts you in a different light.”

Saint placed a hand on his shoulder. “Claire has agreed to see you if you want to speak with her professionally. Nothing you tell her will ever be discussed outside her office. She holds one of the highest security clearances. You asked for advice and I’m gonna give it to you straight. I believe you’re struggling, and it’s causing problems in your personal life, especially with your marriage. Gabby seems like a great catch. She understood the demands of a military wife. She went to school and worked hard while you did your duty. It sounds as if you let her down more than once. This might be a good first step if you want to rectify your situation.”

Knight licked his lips nervously. “What if Claire diagnoses me with it? How will I retain a job? I’ll have a child to support. I don’t want to lose Gabby. Everything I do feels like it’s wrong. She watches me with suspicion. I know I’ve hurt her and I take full responsibility. She didn’t deserve what I did and I’m unsure she’ll take me back.”

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