For Keeps

16. Luke

This week has seemed like an eternity. It's officially the worst week I've ever had, and that's pretty shitty coming from a guy who's been shot multiple times and hit with shrapnel from an IED.
I try to get my mind off everything and go to get some groceries... okay mostly booze, but there is food in this cart somewhere.
I round an aisle and immediately try to go back before the blonde sees me. Unfortunately I'm too slow as I hear her call me name behind me.
I turn as she struts up. "Hey sexy." Stacey says while winking.
"Hi."
"What cha doin?"
"Hunting wild game." I say sarcastically.
"Huh?" She scrunches her nose.
"I'm shopping, Stacey." I motion to my cart. "Obviously."
"Oh got cha. I heard Scarlett dumped you. I can see you're hurting." She says eyeing my cart full of beer.
"Scarlett did not dump me. Who starts these rumors anyway? And I'm not hurting. Maybe I'm an alcoholic."
"We should be alcoholics together. Wanna grab a drink?"
"I already did." I say looking at my cart.
"Can I come over?"
"Sorry I have plans with Brett."
"Even better than we can invite Paisley."
"He's engaged..."
"So? That doesn't mean you can't fool around with other people." She winks.
Who the fuck says shit like that? That would be Stacey and Paisley...
"He's not like that." I say annoyed.
"So... then it will be me, you, and Paisley. That would be so hot."
"I'm not really the hooking up kind of guy. I like relationships." I shrug.
"We can be in one if you want."
"I'm not really on the market." I say. "I'm already late so I will see you later." I say pushing my cart away.
"Fine. See you Saturday."
Oh shit I forgot I worked with the twimbos.
Saturday is going to be a long day.

About twelve beers later, I'm so bored of Facebook. Everyone is so whiney. Maybe I'm too whiney. I miss Scarlett.  Maybe I should text her? Yeah that's a great idea.

Why don't u live me? I can't stop 5hibjing about u. Please come home to me.
Also ur so beautiful and you smell so good all the time. Y do you smell so amazing. I bet ur sweat smells AMAZIBG. I can't wait to make you sweat.
Did u just send that?
I
Scarlett with 2 Ts please live me.
Good night I love you

Yeah that should make her think of me. I pass out pretty quick after and have a horrible nightmare.

I'm in bum fuck middle east on a patrol just like the thousand I've done before, but this time it's different: my team are already dead. They are piled in the middle of the empty dirt street.
"What the fuck! We need back up!" I yell to no one. I run to my team but the closer I get, the further they are.
Finally I stop running as the sky turns pitch black and I can't even see my hand in front of my face.
"Lane! Frankin! Gomez! Someone call out!" I shout and trip over something.
My face hits the sand and I try and look around to see what I tripped over.
Suddenly I'm able able to see but I instantly wish I couldn't.
She is dressed in all white, her hair flows like a halo in the sand on each side of her head. Her eyes are open and her skin looks gray. Her arms are sliced opened and blood pools all around her.
"Scarlett!" I scream and grab her shoulders, shaking them.
"Wake up! Scarlett!"
She is dead and I begin to sob, but next thing I know her small cold hand grabs me.
"You did this." She screams. "You couldn't save me just like you couldn't save them! You shouldn't be alive! Why are you alive and they are all dead? All of them!" She laughs and it sounds discombobulated; like a demon. When she opens her mouth again blood pours out and she keeps laughing.

I jump from the couch covered in sweat, and in the process knock the whiskey bottle off the coffee table.
I bend over trying to catch my breath, but I can't.
It wasn't real, I know that but she, or it, was right; I shouldn't be here.
My hand moves to my ribs over the names of my best friends who I watched die. The men I should have died with.
I fall to the floor and cry. I cry for Chris Lane. For Johnny Franklin. For Juan Gomez.
I cry for their families, for their children, for their parents.
I wish I could have died for them. I would have taken their places, but I was the one who lived. I was the one who came home and had to give their loved ones letters they wrote "just in case".
I should have died that day with them and most days I wish I did. Days when I wake up covered in sweat having a panic attack.
I try to control my breathing while I remember what the doctors in Germany said.
"I can't explain how you are alive. You just are. If the shrapnel would have been even a centimeter to the left it would have destroyed your heart. Same with the bullet in your leg. It almost cut your femoral artery, but it didn't. Not to mention the other six bullets, the other shrapnel, the broken ribs. I cannot explain it to you. You're just lucky, Miller."

"I'm just lucky." The words echo in my head.
I wouldn't call myself lucky. I should have died, end of story, but for some reason I didn't. I'm here and now I have to face these demons.
Alone.
When I was with Scarlett at least I never once had a nightmare. I felt good with her.
I need to know she is okay. I have to. I sit up and search for my phone. When I find it I send her a text.

I know you haven't replied. I doubt you will now, but Scarlett I'm falling apart here. I'm sitting on the floor crying like a pussy. I at least need to know you're okay. I have to. I can't keep wondering. It's killing me Scar. Please. Please fucking say something. Anything!

I sit and I wait. And wait. And wait. I move to my bed and just lie there, completely drained. Then suddenly my phone chimes and I can't grab it fast enough. Thank God.

I'm okay. Please don't worry. See you soon.
I love you.

And that's all I need. I fall back asleep and pray she will be home soon.