Heart of a Warrior (Lesbian Story)

Chapter 3: Catching Up

Dakota's POV

A couple days later I decided to take Jade up on her offer to go out for drinks. I was really beginning to need a distraction. I was really hoping we were just going to a bar, I really didn't want to go to a club on crutches. Jade picked me up around seven and drove to the bar right there in town.

"I figured you probably weren't quite up to going a long ways for a drink yet," Jade said as the two of us sat down at the bar.

I could feel eyes on my back so I just shrugged it off. There wasn't much point to even reacting to the stares anymore. All these people knew me when I was in high school, but just like with Jade they would soon learn that I was no longer the same person I had been when I left.

"You know," Jade began quietly as our drinks were set in front of us. "I still remember the day you signed up for the Marines."

I frowned, gripping my drink. I still remembered it too; I knew I would never forget it. I knew that day marked the start of a new part of my life. A part of my life without Lacey and way for me to discover myself. I had needed a way to get away from the pain my relationship with Lacey had brought me. Working my ass off to become a Marine had been the perfect way.

"I do too," I whispered.

"Hey, at least we can legally drink now huh?"

Jade was trying to joke around to lighten the mood. It actually worked; the brunette had always been good at cheering me up or at least making me smile when I was down. I stared down at my drink, knowing that if I drank it, I couldn't take my sleeping pill. I just shook my head, having a moment of not giving a shit, and took a huge gulp of my beer.

Jade and I drank quite a bit that night, neither of us really caring how much alcohol we consumed. My brunette friend, at one point in the night, even tried to get out of me what happened on my deployment but that was the one area that I would never touch in a discussion; no matter how drunk I was. She could tell that it was a touchy matter and smoothly changed the subject of conversation.

By the next morning I woke in my bed, not even changed out of my clothes. I had a tremendous headache and I nearly shit myself when I realized what time it was. I shot out of my bed, instantly regretting the decision as I ended up face down on the floor with pain radiating through my entire leg. I felt the contents of my stomach threatening to come up so I forced myself to my feet and hobbled into the bathroom.

Throwing up hurt like hell seeing as my ribs were still broken. When I had nothing left to throw up I collapsed to the floor, staring at the wall. I couldn't even remember coming home or getting in bed the night before. The pounding headache and upset stomach were enough of an indicator to say that I had probably drank way more than I should have. The knock on the bathroom door startled me out of my thoughts.

"Come in," I said weakly as I tried to sit up.

My mom opened the door and gave me a sad look. I knew I had to look extremely pathetic lying there on the floor, unable to get up. Not only was there sadness in her eyes though, there was a fearful gleam to her gorgeous eyes as well. I instantly regretted getting shitfaced with my friend the night before. It was right then that I remembered how my father was before he decided to take his own life. He would go out binge drinking almost every other night and end up on the bathroom floor just like had.

Mom helped me to my room and helped me grab a change of clothes so I could shower. She didn't say anything but I could tell she wanted to. It was almost as if my mother didn't know how to treat me anymore. I suffered from PTSD, which it was rare for a soldier not to suffer from that after returning from active duty. She had watched my father suffer from the same thing and even one wrong word could set him off.