Page 33 of Waiting for Redemption

With the exhibit officially open, the crowd only seems to keep growing. Everywhere you turn there are groups of people talking about the paintings, making the room about ten times louder than it was when we first arrived. With Leah, Lauren, and Taylor all mingling elsewhere, I take the opportunity to visit one of the paintings displayed in a more secluded area– my small attempt to find a place where I can hear myself think. I take a deep breath as the conversations begin to fade, causing one booming voice to catch my attention when I hear it.

Tank.

I don’t bother turning around since I can tell he’s in the middle of a conversation with someone else, but I can’t help but notice the edge to his voice. I can’t quite place it, but he doesn't sound like himself at all, and I can tell something is wrong. I hear him clear his throat right before he excuses himself from the conversation, and just as I turn to see if he’s okay I catch a glimpse of him darting towards the back hallway– pulling aggressively at the tie around his neck.

Something is definitely wrong.

TANK

It took me longer than I care to admit to tie the tie I was instructed to wear, which caused me to arrive much later than the rest of our group. I’ve been tying ties since I was in middle school, but my nerves about possibly seeing old team members tonight had my hands shaking so damn bad I almost said screw it and tossed the damn thing in the trash.

I slid in the door just before the gallery owner took the stage, and stayed towards the back so I wouldn't cause a disruption. I was on my way to look for the rest of the crew when I got stopped by a few familiar faces. Faces that, no matter how much I tried to prepare myself, I wasn’t quite ready to see just yet. Some of the guys I was closest to from my old team are here, and seeing them makes me feel like I’ve just hit those concrete stairs all over again.

“Landry, long time no see.” Asher walks over, extending his hand with the other tucked into his front pocket. He’s always walked around with an air of confidence about him—something I envy now that I have little to none.

“Back at ya brother, what the hell are you guys doing here?” I greet each of the guys with a handshake and quick hug, trying my best to play it cool.

Asher, Dominic, Mike, and Keller.

“Well you know, we heard about this thing through the grapevine. And by grapevine, I mean oneverypersistent and proud husband of the artist. I had no idea Max got married until he reached out to tell us about this though.” The guys met Max and Tuckermaybetwice when they came to Nashville with me on leave, but that’s the thing about those two–they make a lasting impression. Regardless of how grumpy most people think Max is, the ones who understand his background can see the depth behind it.

“Oh yeah. That shit happened super fast.” I laugh, remembering their engagement night like it was yesterday.

“Well, how have you been man? What are you up to these days?” Keller asks.

Here we go. The question I would like nothing more than to never have to answer.

“Ah, you know. I’ve been working at Max’s bar for a while. I applied to a few other places but nothing’s worked out just yet.” I grit my teeth while doing my best to fake a smile, waiting for them to lay on the impending jokes or judgment about working as a bartender. It’s different when you own the damn bar and build it from the ground up—that’sa respectable career. But the jokes and judgment don’t come, instead, it’s something far worse.

“We really miss you out there man. We could have really used someone with your skill set leading our last mission. Hell, we could use it now, we head out again next week,” Dom says, earning an elbow in the back from Keller, as the other guys shoot me sympathetic glances.

“Shit, man. I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant there will never be another leader like you.” The tone of his voice puts me on edge and immediately my chest begins to tighten. A faint ringing hums in my ears as short, yet vivid flashbacks of our last mission start running through my mind. The feelings I’ve been pushing down for over a damnyearcome bursting through to the surface.

Regret and disappointment.

Regret for things so far out of my control it makes me angry in a way I’ve never experienced before.

And disappointment that I let my team down when they needed me most—that I amstillletting them down, even now.

I manage to clear my throat, hoping I don’t choke on the words I’m forcing out of my mouth.

“Man, I miss being out there with you guys too. Sorry to cut this short, but if you gentlemen will excuse me.” I nod behind me—to where I have no fucking clue—but they accept my excuse and I bolt.

“Yeah, man. Maybe we’ll catch up with you later. It’s good to see you doing so well,” Dominic says with a smile on his face. That damn smile of his. He always stayed so positive—even during all the bad shit we saw.

If he only knew how unwell I truly am.

I make it back to an empty hallway, surrounded by nothing but doors with studio numbers on them and, as luck would have it, a small chaise against the back wall. I loosen my tie and unbutton the top few buttons of my dress shirt, taking in as deep of breaths as I can catch, but all it does is make me feel like I can’t breathe at all.

I put my head between my hands with my elbows resting on my knees, doing my best to find something to focus on. There are no spots on the pristinely white floor for me to count, there’s ironically no art on the walls for me to try and focus on, and all I can think isI need to find Ruby.She’s the one person I’m confident could distract me long enough for me to catch my breath. I squeeze my eyes shut in an effort to will her to me, but my mind derails in the worst possible way.

“How are we feeling today?” the doctor asks as he steps into my recovery room. It’s been two months in this recovery center and I’m more than ready to get the hell out of here.

“Better than yesterday,” I respond in hopes that they’ll believe me and release me sooner.

“Well, that’s good news.” I can hear the distress in his voice and when Captain walks through the door I know I’m in for some shitty news. I swallow hard and try sitting up a little straighter, though all that does is agitate my back making me wince. A dead giveaway that I’m not better than yesterday at all.

“We need to talk,” he says, bringing an ominousness to the atmosphere.

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