The Teacher and the Soldier (2 page)

Luke didn’t answer. Not when his only answer would be, ‘wish I could say the same’. He climbed into his car and made it to the outskirts of town in a few minutes with Finn not far behind. The night was really upon Luke by the time he arrived at the reception of the Mountain View Hotel. Paperwork signed and card scanned as a deposit, he finally got to his room when the clock on the bedside cabinet showed eight p.m. He put his phone on the charger, then on autopilot, he took a shower in the clean and tidy bathroom.

The bed was comfortable and the TV had cable—all the comforts of home. He ate an energy bar to settle the hunger in his belly and when he’d run out of excuses for himself he checked his charging cell. He’d been avoiding the damn thing for a week and there was one hell of a lot of missed calls and texts. Silently he scrolled through the texts, which started off angry, moved to pleading, then to demanding. The last one was Zach completely losing it, and hell, Luke couldn’t blame him.

Zach was the one who had been cheating. The one who had outwardly destroyed everything they’d had over the course of the last two years. But Luke had let him. He knew that. He’d allowed Zach to control him and his life, fallen into that easy pattern of behaviour where he’d hid his own wants and needs to keep someone else happy. No wonder Zach had cheated on him, when Luke had changed his personality so drastically.

Tell me you at least got there safe.
A simple text and at last one he could answer.

Here
, he replied.

He thought about what else he should say. He and Zach had been together six years and had a mortgage together. He wanted nothing of the investment in their small condo, which was scraped and saved for with his teacher salary and Zach’s money as a veterinarian’s assistant. Luke owed Zach some response. The paperwork for transferring everything into Zach’s name should have been dealt with weeks ago. But they’d arrived the same day he’d heard about his dad then they had just sat there. He’d proved his dad right. He had nothing that would last forever and he’d fucked up big time.

Sighing, he added,
signing and sending tomorrow.

As soon as he’d sent it, he then deleted all the voicemails without listening to them—several from Zach and three from an unknown number. He couldn’t face listening to anything. He was done.

* * * *

Daniel Skylar was way beyond angry. Everything had gone from a good start in the morning to where he was now angry, frustrated and ready to get on his bike and leave the meeting. Bill Abbot sat there with a concerned but supportive expression and all Daniel wanted to do was punch him one. Irrational and misplaced anger was something Daniel didn’t do and he hated that he was focusing his frustrations on the planning officer.

“Zoning will not allow the use, Daniel. I don’t know how many times I have to say that.”

“It’s a damn house,” Daniel snapped. Energy coursed through him and made him unable to sit still. In seconds he was up and pacing. He hated being inside at the best of times but in this stuffy planning office—with one small window and a view of a concrete wall—he was trapped like a rat.

Bill held up his hand in a plea for calm. “That’s as may be, but it’s a house in a residential area—”

“Next to a residential area, backing onto the woods, not actually in amongst houses,” Daniel defended. He felt like he was banging his head against a brick wall. He’d sat in the residents’ meeting and explained exactly what he wanted to do yet all he’d got was passive aggressive bullshit thrown at him.

“The meeting could have gone better,” Bill said. “I’m not sure that they thought you were a serious proposition to run this kind of place.” Bill had added emphasis to the word place.

What the hell
? Bill was supposed to be there in the meeting to support Daniel and now he thought it was a good idea to make observations like that? “What do you mean serious proposition?”

“The tattoos don’t help.” Bill shrugged.

Daniel ignored the comment.

“Parents,” Bill continued, “are concerned about their kids—”

“What? These men are heroes who put their lives at risk to protect their country and suddenly they’re a danger to children?” Daniel couldn’t believe what he was hearing Bill say and despite the fact that he had come across as a nice guy, he was still talking shit.

“You know there’s no rationalising with the ‘Not In My Back Yard’ groups, Daniel. I’m sorry. I tried my hardest.”

Daniel stopped pacing. The house he had found was isolated as much as it could be near a large city like Knoxville and had enough rooms to help maybe up to eight veterans back from Afghanistan. It was perfect. What should he do? Fight this? Try to see this from the side of the residents?

He deflated.
Of course I should
.

If he had kids then maybe having eight ex-soldiers invalided from war and moving into his neighbourhood was something he would be fighting. Hell, residents had all probably seen films featuring ex-forces guys with PTSD and had pre-formed opinions. He’d actually lived it and had seen it first-hand and he should remember they hadn’t. He wanted the place to be close to the hospital in the city, that was paramount, but what if he downgraded it? Maybe if he just looked at minor injuries, psych evaluations and support—thought smaller maybe…?

“What do you want to do, Daniel?”

Daniel looked at Bill and used the focus to think about what next. Where was inspiration when he needed it? Ellery had a hospital, but was Ellery ready for a place for veterans? Could the hospital have any thought of helping? Frustration rolled inside him.

“Give me a couple of days to think on it. I’m not pushing this one. I don’t want a battle that can’t be won. I want somewhere these guys can go where people welcome them and give them space, not pull them into a nest of resentment.” God, how many times had he said this? After his three months in hospital he had come home to Ellery and people had been pleased to see him, had supported him. His mom was such a big part of the town. Would it have been different if she hadn’t been? “I have some ideas,” he said.

“I’m sorry, son,” Bill said. His tone was rueful and gentle and the frustration inside Daniel subsided a little.

“It’s not your fault, Bill.”

After goodbyes, Daniel left and for a few minutes, stood by his bike and considered his next move. Left would take him out of Nashville and up into the next state. The Carolinas on his bike seemed like a mighty fine option for a guy with no ties and enough cash behind him to last a year or two of drifting. Right was back to Ellery—up into the smoky mountains and to his mom. Home. The only thing that had really kept him alive after it had all gone to shit under the blazing sun of the Afghan sky.

He started the bike and pulled away, aiming right. He had a list of things to do in his head. First stop was St Martin’s hospital. Liam Wolf, the chief doctor at the hospital, was a good guy and maybe he would know if the hospital would have the funding to support some kind of community outreach programme. Maybe Daniel had been thinking about this the wrong way. Maybe Ellery was the place to make something that would mean the same support he’d received was available to others?

Two hours later he pulled up outside the hospital and parked his bike next to Liam’s BMW. The damn thing was so shiny he could see his face in it and he smiled at the teasing he would throw at Liam. Liam had once spent so long polishing the ten year old car that Daniel had suggested Liam should marry the damn thing. They’d become close when Daniel had needed medical support here in his home town, they’d even kissed, then had fallen apart laughing at what they had done, vowing to never do it again. Liam was all blond hair, blue eyes and confident, in your face, stubborn. Too similar to Daniel in one respect, that stubborn confidence in both men would be bound to clash.

He made his way down two corridors to the staff room and let himself in. People here were used to Daniel just dropping in on the staff, all of whom he called friends. There was no one in there, but the coffee machine worked and he threw some dollars in the honesty jar and made himself a coffee. Liam would make his way here finally. The hospital wasn’t large, maybe ten beds and three doctors. Most major trauma cases were moved to Knoxville, but Liam had been talking of expanding—taking on more paramedics assigned to the place and getting their harassed administrator some support. Daniel had listened to his friend long enough to know Liam would listen now.

A text alert sounded and Daniel checked the screen, smiling as he read a text from Kieran Dexter. His friend’s message was characteristically short and to the point. Whilst Kieran could talk the hind legs off of a donkey, when he texted he managed to keep everything crisp.

Bring more beer and Diet Coke.

Every Friday he and Kieran met up with Finn Ryan and drank beer. Well, to be fair Finn only drank beer when he was off duty, which was clearly tonight if Kieran’s text was anything to go by. Then again, Finn had taken to bringing his fireman lover Max with him, and hell, that boy could down Diet Coke like no tomorrow. Nice guy, Max. A man of action who had saved Finn’s life not once but three times, he had earned his right to sit with them on a Friday for beers. Being gay in a small town, it was self-preservation to have some time to meet and shoot the shit. Maybe he should ask Liam to join them? The kiss may not have worked, but Daniel wanted some of what Finn and Max had—affection and laughter… and sex. Well, at the very least the sex part. Maybe he and Liam could just skip all the relationship stuff that made them laugh with the absurdity of it all and move to a friends-with-benefits arrangement. Liam was pretty—very pretty. And his lips would look very nice wrapped around Daniel’s dick.

Daniel shifted in the lumpy seat a little as his dick began to fill at the thought.

“Where did you go?” Liam’s voice, filled with laughter, jerked him out of his thoughts. “You’ve got the heel of your hand pressing your dick and your tongue was poking out.”

“Fuck you,” Daniel replied quickly. Glancing down he realised Liam had been speaking the truth. It was a good thing that it was Liam who had walked in and not Abby the administrator, or one of the nurses. “Get out of my head,” he added.

Liam snorted a laugh in response and filled a cup with the bitter black brew. He drank it with extra cream and sugar—something Daniel shuddered at. Liam may well want the frou frou, but Daniel liked his coffee black and strong.

“You’re not due in until next week,” Liam said. He always said things like that. Unspoken was that sometimes Daniel needed to sit somewhere quiet where no one asked stupid questions and that him sitting in here was perfectly fine.

“Missed your ugly face,” Daniel said. Then he smiled and settled back on the sofa. “Do you have ten?”

Liam checked his watch. “Ten is all I have. Abby has me on a short leash.” Not an inch over five feet, the tiny woman was hospital administrator and yes, she knew exactly how to work her resources, including Liam.

“You asked me what I was going into Knoxville for.” Daniel hesitated.

Liam raised his eyebrows in question. He’d suggested Daniel was disappearing to the city for tail and Daniel had never said anything different.

“Do I need to sit down?” Liam sat anyway then leant forward expectantly.

“It’s kind of simple really, but I wasn’t ready to share. See, I have this idea. A place for vets like me to get some down time, space to think, some medical help. Nothing major,” he added quickly. “No trauma surgeon stuff…y’know, just mind fuck shit like me.” He circled a finger at his temple then tapped himself on the forehead.

“I wish you wouldn’t call it that,” Liam said. He sounded like Doctor-grumpy-Liam and Daniel smiled at his friend’s immediate defence of him.

“Whatever. Just the place I found in Knoxville was a bust. Too much local protesting against plans and not enough understanding.”

“You mean the whole ‘I’m not having a vet with a gun in my garden’ stuff?”

Daniel frowned. How had Liam hit the nail on the head so quickly? It had taken Daniel this long to get his head around the constant battle to get people to see there is such a thing as an acceptable risk.

“Yeah,” he offered. “That.”

“I can see where they’re coming from. Wait—” He held up a hand to stop Daniel from talking. “Playing devil’s advocate here, reading some of the stuff people put online about crazy vets wielding guns kinda sits in your head. Not everyone comes back with problems and has the strength of mind to be able to help themselves like you did.”

“I didn’t have PTSD—”

“A healthy dose of survivors guilt though, Dan. You have to admit that one. So what do you need to talk to me about?”

“I just want to know, if I got planning approval for something here, would the hospital support an outreach programme, work with these kids like you did me?” Daniel leant forward, mimicking Liam’s posture. This was a vital question to be asking. He had given himself away calling them kids. A lot of these guys would be younger than him, it was the nature of warfare, but Daniel for some reason—today—he felt older than his years. For a few seconds Liam looked to be thinking. Then in a flurry of motion he rose and placed his dirty coffee mug in the small desktop dishwasher. His back to Daniel he carried on the conversation as if there hadn’t been a pause.

“Where do I sign up?”