Mission Happy (A Texas Desires Novel Book 3) (10 page)

Finally, he steeled his spine and spoke when the doctor didn’t. “Just say it.”

“I’m going to recommend treatment at Walter Reed…”

What? Treatment for what?

“Why? That’s Washington DC. Whatever needs to happen needs to be right here,” Connor demanded, his fist slamming down on the table as he spoke.

“Son—” Dr. Berry started, but Connor cut him off, doing everything in his power to keep himself together when all he really wanted to do was ram his fist through anything, including the cryptic neurologist.

“No. I’m being set up on some bullshit PTSD diagnosis in order to force me out,” he said, his voice filled with venom.

“You’re a multiple-tour sniper, is that correct?” He moved enough to open the file again, thumbing through several pages.

“That’s correct,” Connor gritted out through a clamped jaw. He shoved to his feet, raking his fingers over his head as he paced.

“So why would they want to force you out?” he asked, stopping his pursuit of whatever he’d tried to find in the file.

“I went against a direct order which resulted in physical contact,” Connor supplied. He could feel the tic in his jaw begin. Only because the Turkish ambassador had gone to the press did Connor allow himself to expand on the classified incident. “He was an ass-hat from Turkey. My only duty was to train. I should have never been in the field or in Syria. I played along until I couldn’t. It’s caused ambassadors and shit to get involved. Apparently me being sent home wasn’t enough punishment for his country.”

“What caused the disagreement?” Dr. Berry asked in what was becoming a very irritatingly patient tone.

“I wouldn’t take a shot, because there was no clear weapon. The woman didn’t deserve to die,” Connor said. The anger of seconds ago fled, allowing the dread to coil through his gut. It had been this way for weeks. His emotions were all over the fucking place. That sense of defeat had him taking his seat again.

“Did there turn out to be a weapon?”

“No. Of course not. I told the fucker there wasn’t one with my fist,” Connor said and leaned back in the chair. The doctor just stared at him until he left his place by the desk and came to the table.

“And you believe if I label you PTSD you’ll lose your security clearance forcing you from your position?” The doctor clarified the obvious.

Duh
!

“You know I will,” he shot back.

“Son, this is much more serious than a simple mental health diagnoses. The scans show some frontal lobe damage. Without further testing, we have no way of knowing the extent. I can say, as of right now, I only see one significant darkening
, but we’re learning that’s enough to cause serious concern,” he stated calmly.

All Connor could do was stare at the man. What the fuck was this?

The sole goal for this second opinion was to debunk his first fucking bullshit PTSD diagnosis. No one had said anything about brain damage. Why would that even come up?

Connor let that new intel sit between them, staring at the doctor who stared back at Connor. Finally, he decided it didn’t matter. He had to fight. He was mentally strong and well-adjusted, no matter what they fucking kept throwing his way. He was a soldier. A damn good one and didn’t deserve to lose his job. Combat injury—fuck yeah! He went into direct combat three or four damn times a year.

“I wasn’t in any sort of real direct combat this time around. That was a simple Turkish raid we provided overwatch for,” he stated, beginning to build a case for his fight.

“
This time
. Those are the keywords. These brain lesions and what they mean are reasonably new to us. You’re in direct combat. Your record shows two gunshot wounds and three IED detonations throughout your career, and that only covers your documented missions. You deploy to the front line, conduct secret operations, deal with explosives…” The doctor lifted his hands as if that said it all.

“So that makes me automatically brain damaged? Is that what you’re saying? Because I’m pretty sure that’s about half the soldiers in this military,” he said, his tone dripping condescension, and for dramatic effect, he slapped his hand on the hard wood, leaning forward across the table. “Were you told to tell me this? This is my life you’re messing with. You be honest here, and tell me the truth.”

The conversation stopped as the doctor remained silent, just staring at him. Connor balanced his intimidation factor with his need to get this doctor to do what he wanted. After a second, the doctor opened the file, flipped past several pages, before turning the file toward Connor.

“You’re not hearing me. I’m saying this spot
can
indicate significant damage to the brain. We won’t know more without further testing. What I haven’t said… This right here may be a second spot—I just can’t tell without better imagery. I don’t have the proper imaging equipment here. It’s why you need to go to Walter Reed.” As he spoke, his finger pointed out different areas for Connor to focus on. It all looked the same to him; he saw nothing but black dots in a sea of black dots.

“I feel fine. I just saw my family, spent time with long-time buddies. No one’s saying I’m off. I know what it takes to keep myself healthy and strong.”

The doctor silently stared at him.

“Fuck,” Connor finally said, running his hands over his face. “They’re gonna remove me.”

“I’m sorry for that, but your health’s more important.”

“Not to me.” Connor shoved out of his chair, catching the thing before it toppled backward. He teeter-totted between fear and pissed off anger. This was so much worse than he’d originally thought. Coming in here, he had anticipated an uphill battle, but he could have fought the PTSD bullshit. There would be no getting past this brain scan. He could already hear the medical discharge being filed.

“So no PTSD. Just possible brain damage?” The words were vile to even utter out loud. He was not brain damaged.

“You most positively have PTSD. That kind of head trauma would indicate battle scars all by themselves, but honestly, your verbal testing indicates a clear presence of PTSD—which at this point doesn’t matter. It’s clear you’re suffering.”

Connor looked down at him. The tic in his jaw grew more pronounced. He was still not ready to give in, but Jesus, this quack needed to stop dumping bad news on top of more bad news. Instead, he needed a fucking lifeline tossed his way—anything he could grasp on to.

“Every man on my team knows the risk involved in what we do. I live an absurdly healthy lifestyle. I’m mentally strong. I know how to keep myself focused and clear-headed. I eat well. I never miss a workout. I don’t abuse alcohol. I don’t smoke. I’ve never taken drugs—not even Advil for a headache.”

“Those are good things to hear. You’ll need to continue that lifestyle to get through this,” Dr. Berry said, nodding in Connor’s direction.

Connor just stared at him, willing himself not to punch him in the face as he gritted out, “If you move this forward, I’m done.”

“We’ll stand by you in this, make sure you’re taken care of,” Dr. Berry stated.

Connor swallowed hard and bit the side of his cheek. He actually wanted to cry. No way around it, he was totally goat-fucked. He stared at the doctor as he continued talking, not hearing a word he had to say. This was worse than anything he could imagine.

“Until then, let’s get you started on some counseling. We can do that in Coronado. Unfortunately, it’ll be mandatory. This has become a serious problem for our armed forces—you guys are too tough. You have to be watched closer. These traumas should be addressed as they occur…”

Connor tuned him out again, taking his seat while watching the doctor write on a prescription pad. All he could do was put his head in his hand and focus on keeping himself from going sideways—making this whole thing worse.

More than any other time in his life, he felt his head and his heart in sync with each other. They wanted to implode. Tissues were placed in his palm, and his fist gripped so tight, his entire arm flexed. He refused to cry, especially in front of this man.

“Son, this isn’t you. It’s not a weakness
in you
. We did this to you. We physically crush our soldiers. We need to get you whole again. Then we can talk about what your future holds and what happens next.”

Connor kept his head bent and the tissues fisted in his hand.

“Did you hear me? We’re going to get you better. You deserve better than you’ve been treated.”

“Yes, sir,” he muttered, and it sounded weak even to him.

“Wait right here. I’ll have information gathered for you and get you a referral to a counselor I know in your area.”

Connor refused to acknowledge anything else. He sat there with his world crumbling until he couldn’t take anymore. He got up and left the office. He didn’t stop until he got to his truck. Only then did he let the tissue fall from his hand as he drove his fist into the aluminum of his truck bed toolbox.

He let the blood drip from his knuckles and never looked back as he pulled away from the hospital. Navigation led him to the highway, heading south. Back to San Diego. When his phone vibrated in his back pocket, not once, but three times in a row, he finally remembered Julie. The woman who had so completely infiltrated his world and given him a false sense of happiness. The fucking tears he’d held off welled in his eyes. He had nothing. He was nothing, and now he’d lost the little bit of life that made him proud. No way she’d want to get mixed up with the likes of him.

He dug his phone out of his pocket and turned it off, dropping the device inside the cup holder in the console. He wiped at his eyes and willed himself to calm down. Not five miles later, his dad came to mind. What would he tell his parents? God, his dad was always so proud of him.

The fucking tears started again.

“You’re sad,” her older sister, Tina, announced unexpectedly. Julia looked down at the script in her hands, trying to find that particular line. She’d so checked out that she couldn’t remember those words being any sort of cue for her to respond to. After a second of her flipping a page forward, then backward, Tina placed a palm over the page, causing Julia to look up, even more confused. “No, silly. You’re sad. It’s not a line. You seem sad tonight.”

“No, I don’t,” she countered defensively, giving her sister an absurd look as she moved the script out from under her hand and turned away, pacing the small area in front of her sofa. She had to concentrate if she planned on getting any work done tomorrow.

For all of about three minutes, she tried to center herself until she finally acknowledged there was no use in continuing. She’d retained absolutely nothing.

Out of frustration, she dropped the pages on the coffee table and plopped down on the sofa.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s going on or are we gonna sit here for another two hours pretending like you haven’t created an unhealthy fixation on your cell phone, and honestly, Julie, you’re acting a little frantic,” Tina said, giving an exaggerated eye roll for dramatic effect before dropping down right next to her in a huff. Tina tossed her copy of the script next to Julia’s on the coffee table.

“I’ve hated when you do that eye-roll thing since we were little,” she said irritably, crossing her arms over her chest.

“
I’ve
hated how you always keep everything all bottled up inside you. So is it a guy?” Tina asked, shifting to look her way. Julia just cocked her head, looking back at her sister. Her brilliant, smart, level-headed sibling could always put her finger right on the problem. Very irritating.

Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to let her move in while her house was being remodeled…

“I don’t want to tell you.”

She was pretty sure her sister was so far above the concept of a one-night stand that it embarrassed her to even say the words out loud.

“Just tell me. Don’t make me dig it out of you.”

Several minutes passed while she lifted her legs, crossed her ankles on the coffee table, and decided how much to say. This was the other problem with her sister. As a trained therapist, she could calmly wait hours for a person to answer her questions. Frustrated, Julia threw her arms in the air. “I did meet someone and I liked him a lot.”

“Is that why you didn’t come home last night?” Tina asked.

“How do you even know that?” Julia turned fully toward Tina, shock on her face. She’d die if Tina told their always prim and proper mother what she’d done.

“I was running this morning. I run the property every morning, you know that. I saw you getting out of the car wearing the same thing you wore yesterday morning,” she answered.

“I hate that you’re observant,” Julia declared, re-crossing her arms over her chest, settling back against the sofa.

“One of us has to be. Now keep going with the story. If you like him, why are you down?”

“We were supposed to meet for lunch today and he never called,” Julia answered dejectedly. She’d broken the one-night-stand rules and let herself connect to Connor. She wanted more than just sex from him and she’d thought he did too. It was stupid to feel like she wanted to cry, but she couldn’t help it. Her long-time crush had paid attention to her, and it sucked that he didn’t want anything else to do with her.

“Did you call him?” Tina asked in that calm, irritating tone Julia just knew she used when talking to her patients.

“Of course I did. I seriously have zero control of myself. I texted him three times and called his phone twice. It went straight to voice mail and he hasn’t responded to the texts.”

“Then he’s a creep,” Tina said, like that solved everything.

“He’s not, though,” she declared, turning back to her sister. This wasn’t Connor’s fault. She had thrown herself at him. She was the aggressor. Hell, she almost had to straddle his lap in order to get the first kiss. She’d made last night happen and probably scared him off when she’d stayed the night. That was so dumb of her. “He’s one of Ty’s friends.”

At the mention of Ty Bateman, her normally very reasonable sister turned dreamy-eyed. Now Julia rolled her eyes at her sister.

“Why can’t you date Ty? I never understood why you didn’t. You were both so pretty together,” Tina replied.

“He’s always felt like my brother. Besides, he’s totally off the market. Like lovesick off the market,” Julia filled in. She and Tina were both taller than most women. They now sat with their legs crossed, each bouncing a foot with their arms crossed over their chests. The conversation had gone from upset, to Tina fangirling over Ty, now to a little bit of gossip. She loved her sister.

“Any chance his friend looks like him?” Tina asked hopeful.

“Hand to God, he’s better looking than Ty,” Julia supplied.

“No way!”

“Yes way,” Julia nodded.

“Is he an actor?”

“No, military. Like muscled up, a few tattoos. He’s tall. Totally a hottie. He’s so good-looking, Tina. And considerate. I lost my head a little bit,” Julia confided.

“Those kind of guys aren’t usually into the Hollywood starlet types,” Tina said speculatively.

“I’d met him before, but he didn’t remember me. He had no idea who I was. I could see him trying to place me, but the one time I saw him and actually met him with Ty, I was glammed up, full makeup, hair. He’s not a Hollywood diva type of guy at all.”

“Seriously? He didn’t remember you? That’s doubtful.”

“I’m certain he didn’t know.”

“And Ty didn’t tell him?” Tina asked.

“No! He’s coming home tomorrow with Kenzie. He wasn’t there. They haven’t talked. And Tina, he paid for everything. All my drinks, our food, the hotel, everything. I can’t see how that wasn’t incredibly expensive for him, but when I offered, he seemed offended.” Absolutely, she should have taken this slower with him. Had a drink or two and called it a night, planned a real date. Why had she slept with him? Such a bad call on her part.

“If you like him, call him again.” Tina threw the suggestion out there casually, causing Julia to just stare at her. For some reason, the idea of calling him again made the palms of her hands grow a little sweaty. She’d just scolded herself for being too pushy, yet she had to fight not to reach for her cell phone. Shoving her hands under her thighs, Julia willed herself to let him make the next move. He needed to call her.

“I want to so bad, but if he were into me, he’d have met me for lunch like we agreed,” she reasoned aloud.

“Oh whatever. This isn’t the fifties. If you want him, go after him.” Tina reached across the coffee table for Julia’s phone and extended the device toward her. She didn’t move. She wouldn’t reach for the phone. He should be calling her.

When she didn’t take it, Tina slid a finger across the phone, entered Julia’s code, and pulled up her contact list.

“Don’t you call him!” Julia launched herself at Tina, tackling her on the edge of the sofa. Her sister was a wiry thing, extending the phone just outside her reach while Julia smashed Tina’s face in the cushion, crawling over her toward the phone. Everything stopped when they heard the ringing.

“Oops!” Tina shoved the phone toward Julia who now wanted no part of the thing, rejecting it as she pushed away, using Tina’s back as her support.

“No! It’s midnight. Stop the call!”

Tina tossed the phone her direction, and Julia scrambled to end the call.

“Hello?” Connor’s deep, sleep-filled voice made her finger do anything but press
end call
. “Hello, Julie, you there?”

She put the phone to her ear while giving her sister the death glare. “Hi.”

“Hang on.” She heard some background noise on the other end of the call, maybe a bed creaking before he was back. “Julie? Everything all right?”

“Yes. I’m sorry to call so late. I was just telling my sister about meeting you, and she stupidly called you. I didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep,” she explained, rising off the sofa before she balled up her fist and throat punched her sister like she used to do in high school.

“No, it’s all right. I should’ve called. I meant to call you. I’m sorry about this afternoon. Things got shitty real quick, and I needed to bail, get back here.” The way he said shitty came out slurred, and she lost the shred of anger she’d been holding on to.

“What happened?” she asked carefully, moving away from the sitting area of the living room, heading toward the attached kitchen for some privacy.

“I don’t really wanna talk about it. It’s just a bad time for me. I didn’t wanna lead you on, but I should’ve called. I’m sorry.” Most of those words came out slurred and her brow snapped together. Connor hadn’t struck her as much of a drinker. She had, by far, put away the most alcohol last night.

“Are you drunk?” she asked, coming to a stop in the entryway of the kitchen.

“Yeah. Pretty much, I suspect.”

“Are you alone?” she asked. Not five minutes ago, she would have been jealous if he hadn’t been alone, but now, her instincts thought he needed someone there with him. He sounded so low.

“Yeah.”

“Are you okay?” She closed her eyes, waiting for his answer.

“No, not really.” The honest words came out haggard. The pain in his voice made her chest ache. What could have happened so bad to cause this big, larger than life, super-gorgeous military man to have such pain in his voice?

“Can I do anything to help?” With no idea what caused the sudden turn of events, it was all she had to offer.

“No,” he said in his usual tight-lipped manner.

A lengthy silence settled between them as she tried to find a way to get him to talk.

“I should probably go,” Connor finally said after a huge yawn.

“Okay. Listen, I really enjoyed our time together. I’m not ready for it to end,” she braved up and said softly.

“It’s really not a good time,” he said. The words came out a little tortured. She truly believed he wasn’t brushing her off, instead, something major had happened since she’d left this morning.

“I’m not asking for anything more than friendship. I could use a good friend. It sounds like you could too,” she said, studying the pattern of the tile work on her kitchen floor.

“I’m not sure I’m good for much right now,” he explained with even more pain than before. Those words hurt her heart on an unexpected level. What could be so bad?

Then she heard the squeaking of his mattress again.

“Look, let’s not overthink this. We’ll start over. I promise I’m a good friend…” she started, but he cut her off after another jaw-cracking yawn and a solid laugh.

“Like, let’s pretend that I haven’t stopped thinking about you all day? Because I’m pretty sure that’s an impossibility.” Definitely a slur in those sweetly barked words and she smiled.

Her heart sang with happiness. Something bad had happened, but he was still into her. She lowered her voice and turned her body to keep from being overheard, although she was technically the only one in the kitchen right then. “It sounds like you might not want to call this quits between us,” she stated softly.

“I don’t want to at all. It’s just better for you if you leave me alone and move on,” he tried to explain.

“Your appointment today must have been bad.”

“The worst,” he confirmed.

Julia took a deep breath and forged on. She liked Connor on every level. She could easily see him as a lover, maybe even a friend. Right now, though, this needed to be about him.

“Connor, you need to have friends in your life to help get you through whatever this is. Let me be one of them for you,” she said.

“We’ll see about that.” He gave another yawn, and his voice got deeper as he said, “I’m falling asleep while were talking.”

“I’m boring you,” she teased.

“You’re starring in my dreams.”

The phone went silent as a small snore sounded. Her grin spread across her face. She was much slower to lower the phone. The call was still connected. She stared at the screen as if he might magically appear. Why hadn’t she taken his picture when she’d had the chance so she could pull the reminder up for moments just like this?

“Good or bad?” her sister asked from behind her. She’d forgotten Tina was even around. Julia schooled her features before looking back over her shoulder.

“I don’t know. We’ll have to see,” she said, her voice a little dreamy and she couldn’t contain her smile. “Thank you for making me call him.”

“You’re blushing! I’m glad. You deserve a blush. I’m going to bed,” Tina said and shoved away from the doorframe, leaving her standing there.

“Good night.”

He still hadn’t hung up. With the phone in her hands, she heard a loud snore, which made her want to giggle. Standing there a minute more, she finally ended the call with a huge smile on her face. He hadn’t blown her off at all.

~~~

The next morning, Connor hit the gym on base with his head pounding and his stomach roiling. What the hell had he been thinking going on a major bender last night? More than any other day in his life, he needed to be on point, ready for whatever they threw his way. Instead, all he could concentrate on was the spike of pain in his head due to all the clanking of metal against metal with the workout equipment in use.