And those were the scenes that replayed in my mind, over and over like a video stuck on a loop. Those were the images that haunted me during the day, popping up when I least expected it, when I caught a whiff of something in the air, or heard the sound of a car backfiring. Those were the nightmares that stole my sleep.
At night, I would close my eyes, and see it in my mind's eye...the flash of light, clouds of dust and debris kicked up around me, the billowing dust cloud that colored the air. I'd hear the explosion, followed by a moment of dead silence, and then the ringing in my ears. I'd feel the shockwave from the blast wash over me before I was thrown to the ground.
Every night, the same thing. And in my dreams, I'd see the men I failed to save.
I was stirring cream into my coffee, trying to force myself to wake up, my head still groggy, when I heard June pad into the kitchen, her footsteps light on the tiled floor. She slid her arms around my waist, and I felt myself stiffen.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"Nothing."
That wasn't true.
June stepped back away from me, touched my arm. "Cade," she said. "Turn around and look at me."
I turned, sighing. Exasperated. Not with her, but with myself. "What, June?"
"What happened last night-" she began. I cut her off. I didn't want her pity.
"What happened last night won't happen again," I said. I wouldn't let it. I told myself she would understand, but the truth was, we were different. She had so much shit in her life, and she'd risen above it. I would drag her down.
"Cade, it's okay. I've had panic attacks, nightmares." Her hand was still on my arm. "It helps to talk about it."
I drew my arm back from her, sat at the table with my coffee. "I don't need to talk about it."
"I'm not saying you need to. I'm just telling you that it's fine if - "
I cut her off. "Leave it alone, June. It's not your fucking problem."
It was mean, what I said, and I immediately regretted it. The silence hung heavy in the air between us. I heard her clear her throat, and I didn't want to know what she was about to say. Probably kick me out. I wouldn't give her the chance.
I stood up, not looking at her. "I need to get back to the house. My dad's going to be wondering where the hell I am. Crunch too."
"I'm pretty sure they know where you are," June said.
"Still, I should go."
"Just like that," June said.
Now I looked at her, standing, with her back to the kitchen counter, her arms crossed in front of her. I might not have been able to save some people, but I could save her from me.
"What did you expect from me, June?" I asked, knowing I was being mean. I steeled myself. It was for the best. "Did you think I was going to hang out here and play house with you, just because we screwed a couple of times?"
June's eyes narrowed. I knew I was hurting her, but she didn't need me around her. What did I think was going to happen here, anyway - June would ride off on the back of my bike, into the sunset? She didn't need to be involved in my life. I might be fucked up beyond redemption, but I wasn't an idiot. June was way too good for me, and I knew it.
"No," she said. "I sure as hell didn't peg you for the marrying kind."
I knew I wasn't that type, but hearing it from June, the girl I used to think I'd marry, still stung. "I was, once."
"Yeah, well, you're right, you know. The Cade I knew back then is long gone. I thought I saw a glimpse of him over the past couple of days, but I was wrong."
Part of me wanted to argue with her, tell her that Cade, the one from high school, was still there, that I wasn't completely lost. But that wasn't true. I was, and I'd been lost for a long time.
"Nope. You're right," I said. "That Cade is long gone." I turned away from her. I didn't want her to see my face. She'd always had an uncanny knack for being able to tell when I was lying to her. I started to walk away, toward the hallway, but stopped. I couldn't help but get in a parting shot. "I guess you'll have to find a new fuck toy now."
"Cade," she said, her voice cracking. For a moment, I thought about turning around, but I knew if I did I would be at her mercy. She already had too big a hold on me.
It would be better for her if she hated me.
It would be better for her if I were gone.
"I wondered when you'd be back," my dad said. His back was turned to me, and he ran a brush along the flank of one of the mares.
"You need some help with anything, Pop?" I lingered at the door of the barn.
"Need some help mucking out the stalls," he said. "Pitchfork is over there."
I worked silently, losing myself in the physical labor. Working the ranch had always helped me quiet my mind, no matter what the problem was. I was hoping it would work when it came to the thoughts about June. I just needed to silence what was going through my head.
"So," he said, finally turning to me when I'd made my way to the stall right beside him. "You've been at June's place for the past two days."