Hard Corps (Selected Sinners MC #7) by Scott Hildreth Read Free Book Online Page A

always receiving well thought out replies and opinions. A wealth of knowledge and a very sensible man in general, I trusted him with not only my life, but Suzanne’s. Truthfully, if it wasn’t for him, I suspected Suzanne may have given up on me many years in the past.
    “Let’s have a seat,” I said.
    She raised her hands to her face and nodded her head as she rubbed her fingertips against her eyes. I realized she probably felt embarrassed for crying, as it was something she never did, but I didn’t view her as weak for doing so. As easy as it was for me to want to return to the war, it was impossible for me to fully understand why I had the desire to continue to fight. My beliefs on the matter were mine and mine alone, and came from nothing other than a self-performed diagnosis of myself.
    “You can barely walk,” she said as she sat down on the couch.
    I sat down in the chair across from her. “I ran three back to back six minute miles this morning.”
    “You have a limp,” she said.
    I chuckled. “Marine Corps swagger.”
    “Alec…” she said sarcastically, her voice trailing off as she shook her head.
    I nodded my head in acknowledgement of her sarcastic tone. “My hip hurts a little, but it’s much better than it was. And my heel is tender, but it’s getting better too.”
    “So you’re justifying it? Going back? Can you get out? Have you asked?” she asked.
    I pressed the palms of my hands together and held them in front of my chest for a moment as I studied her. She was a beautiful woman, and not only in her appearance. She had remained by my side through four years of me fighting in the war, and she had done so, for the most part, alone.
    Suzanne was one of the strongest people I had ever met. Her ability to accept what most would be incapable of even considering was instrumental to our success as a military couple. I realized I had to tell her the truth, but explaining how I felt would be difficult – if even possible. I folded my cupped hands open, lowered my face into my hands, and sat for a moment, breathing into the palms of my hands. After a moment’s thought, I slid my hands from my face, and gazed across the room at her.
    “Let me try to explain,” I said.
    She wiped what little remnants of tears remained on her cheeks. “I’m listening.”
    “While I was in Germany, two officers came to let me know I was going to be pinned with a medal for valor in the Second Battle of Fallujah. They told me I could get a medical discharge…”
    “Take it,” she blurted excitedly.
    I raised my hand as I cleared my throat. “Hear me out.”
    With wide eyes, she nodded her head eagerly.
    Damn, I hate to do this to you.
    “I begged them to let me stay. I talked to the doctors, and I lied to the psychiatrist to get a clean psych-eval. He granted it, declared me fit for service, and I denied the discharge. I’m sorry, Suzanne, but I’m going back,” I said.
    She sat, far less emotional than I expected her to be, and glared at me. After what seemed to be an hour, but was probably a matter of thirty seconds, she stood, turned away, and began to cry.
    I stood from my seat. With her back facing me, she raised her right hand and held it in the air between us. “Just give me a minute.”
    “Suzanne…”
    “Give me a minute, Alec,” she said, her voice filled with emotion.
    I sat down in the chair and waited, wondering how many other men in my position would have taken the offered discharge and walked away. There was no doubt in my mind that the war had changed me, but as I sat waiting for her to gather herself, I wondered just how much I had actually changed. I raised my hands to my face, pressed my palms to my cheeks, and covered my eyes with the tips of my fingers. I had always been able to think more clearly with my eyes closed, and sat hoping some newfound clarity would wash over me.
    My mind immediately went to thoughts of my Marines, and I filled with guilt for sitting in the living room