Page 25 of Always You

“You said he wanted to enlist. Also, what you did wasn’t all for money, my friend,” Marcus said sadly. “There were the threats, as well. So yeah, you fucked up, but you’ve owned up to your fuck-ups in the past, and you know that dwelling on guilt changes nothing.”

“I know.”

“Still, as Jazz’s doctor, don’t dump this on him now. Yeah?”

“Okay.”

“One thing though, Alex?”

“Yeah?”

“Start smiling again, yeah? You’re scaring the staff.”

Chapter Thirteen

JAZZ

I could feelthe knots of apprehension tying themselves tighter in my stomach. It had been too long since I’d last had a proper haircut or beard trim, and the thought of shedding the physical markers of the hardest years of my life felt more intimate than I’d expected.

It scared me.

That’s so fucking stupid.

Alex came in, all enthusiasm and smiles, and greeted the barber with a friendly nod before turning to all of us. I was a ball of nerves, sitting at the end of the table waiting my turn, worse now that Alex was here as well. He looked good—smart jeans, a jersey for some team I didn’t know, and his hair wasn’t quite as neat as usual, as if he’d been wearing a hat and shoved his hands through it. He was still beautiful.

He always would be.

“Wha’dya think?” Daniel asked and struck a pose, pointing at his new hairstyle. “Sexy-ass or what!”

Alex snorted a laugh. “Looking good, Dan.”

“Coulda been a model.” Daniel had decided to lose the beard, go for a short haircut, and preened. It made me smile, and thenerves slipped a little. It was the kind of banter that used to be the soundtrack of my days in the Army, back before life had become a solo mission.

As I waited my turn, I watched others get snipped and shaved, their faces emerging from beneath overgrown hair like sculptures from stone. Daniel laughed along with Alex as he made coffees and piled cookies onto plates. I stayed silent. Every so often, I would check out what Alex was doing, and a couple of times, I caught him watching me.

I wonder what he thinks when he looks at me?

Probably, that he was lucky he hadn’t tied himself to me, given the shell of a man that remained.

The second time, he smiled at me cautiously; I smiled back, but it was one of those fake you-caught-me-looking smiles, and I knew the moment he realized because his joy dimmed.

Great. Now I’m fucking this up as well.

Then, it was my turn, and I didn’t know if I wanted anyone to see. A couple of the guys had already left. Alex and Daniel lingered, chatting about baseball of all things, while Daniel pointed to Alex’s jersey. When the barber—a volunteer named Dave—draped a cape over my shoulders, I felt edgy and off-center. As his comb ran through my hair, the sensation was so foreign that my muscles tensed.

“I’m Dave,” he introduced himself the same way he had to each of the others, waiting for me to reply.

I cleared my throat, swallowing the rank and last name on the tip of my tongue. “Jazz.”

“Cool name.”

Should I say thank you? Instead, I closed my eyes because I didn’t want to see myself in the mirror, and if my eyes were closed, then I might be able to ignore Alex.

“Just a tidy-up?”

“Please.”

“How long’s it been since you had a cut?” Dave asked, his scissors working in a rhythm that was soothing in its own right.

---