41 | Loathing

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We don't even care, as restless as we are
We feel the pull in the land of a thousand guilts
And poured cement, lamented and assured
To the lights and towns below.
-Smashing Pumpkins, "1979"

Chicago, Illinois

Luke

"What do you mean, she was attacked!?" I exclaimed, my voice rising at least two octaves.

"She's fine, Luke. Calm down," Rachel said in a calming tone, but my hand tightened around my phone as my anger rose.

"Who attacked her?" I demanded, even though I was pretty sure I already knew the answer.

Rachel took a deep breath and said, "Jordan."

My anger bubbled over and I exploded. "JORDAN!? What the fuck? Where was she? How did this happen!?"

Rachel began to speak, and I felt my anger ebbing away into downright terror. If Miles hadn't been there... my world could have been taken from me.

"My God. Is Miles there? Can I talk to him?" I asked.

"Yeah, hang on. But, Luke? He got arrested because he beat the shit out of Jordan. He's out and the charges are probably being dropped, but it's been rough," she said, and while there was relief in her voice, there was something else there too.

Worry.

"Holy shit," I said again.

"Yeah. Here he is," she said, and there was a shuffle as she handed over the phone.

"Luke?" My brother's voice drifted through the speaker, and I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for him in that moment.

"Miles. Thank you for saving Brooke," I said, unable to hold back.

"Of course. I couldn't let him hurt her," he said.

"I'm so glad you were there... but I'm sorry you had to go to the slammer," I quipped, attempting to make a joke.

He laughed once and cleared his throat. "It's fine. He deserved it." I heard a noise in the background. "Hey, listen, your daughter needs me. We're watching her while Brooke rests. Do you want me to wake her so you can talk to her?"

"No. Tell her to call me later, okay? Love you, bro," I said, my voice choking for a second.

"Love you too, man. Be safe and tell Dad hi."

"You got it."

I hung up the phone, and while I was relieved she was fine, something else was nagging at me. I just wasn't sure what it was.

Panama City Beach, Florida

Rachel

"Shhh," I cooed to Lily, looking up when Miles entered the bedroom and sat next to me on the bed.

"She finally asleep?" he asked, brushing his palm across her head.

"Yeah," I said, laying her in the Pack-n-Play and returning to his side, crossing my legs and facing him. "Miles, we need to talk."

He shook his head. "I don't want to–"

I lay my hand on his clasped fingers and squeezed. "We have to."

He pulled his hands out from under mine and stood up. "Rachel. What part of 'I don't want to' do you not understand?" he snapped.

I blinked, stung by his tone. "Don't snap at me, Miles," I murmured.

He sighed and sat back down next to me. "I'm sorry, but I don't see what the big deal is."

My eyes widened and I shook my head in disbelief. "What do you mean, you don't understand what the big deal is? Miles, you almost killed a person today. Jordan is lucky the cops got there when they did."

"He was hurting your best friend, Brooke. My brother's girlfriend. What was I supposed to do, just stand there and let it happen?"

"No, of course not, but Miles, you went too far. You were unnecessarily violent," I said as gently as I could. "It's not like you."

He scoffed. "Not like me? No offense, Rachel, but you don't have a right to say that. You don't know what I went through over there. Nothing about me is the same. And it's never going to be."

My heart constricted and tears filled my eyes. I blinked them away furiously. "I might know what you went through if you would talk to me!"

"Why?! Why do I need to talk to you? It's not going to change anything. You don't need to know. I don't want to relive it. Why is that so hard for you to get?!" he yelled, and this time when he got up, he didn't sit back down.

"You promised you'd go see someone. If you won't talk to me, at least talk to a professional. You need help, Miles," I whispered.

He glared at me. "So what, I'm crazy now? I need professional help?" He turned to leave, and I jumped up and grabbed his wrist. He jerked out of my grip and I lost my balance, falling back on the bed.

"Miles!" I gasped.

"Rachel, I–" He reached for me, but I shook my head and recoiled from his touch.

"Leave me alone," I whispered, my voice broken.

His blue eyes swept over me and finally, he left the room with his shoulders slumped.

I knew he hadn't meant to make me lose my balance, and it hadn't hurt me, but... he'd never done anything like that before.

And he'd also never beaten anyone mercilessly before today.

I knew he'd never hurt me, but I was beginning to think he might end up hurting himself.

And that was something I could never allow to happen.

I knew what I had to do... even if it may seem like a betrayal.

It would be for his own good.

Miles

What have I done?

What is wrong with me?

I stood on the balcony, staring down at the waves crashing back and forth on the sand.

Being in the war had ruined me. I knew no matter who I talked to, what medicine they gave me, or what kind of bullshit inspirational lines they fed me, I would never be the same.

So why even bother? Why even try? Rachel was scared of me now. I had seen it in her eyes.

Maybe those terrorists should've just finished me off. Things would've been easier that way.

As I stared down at the gulf, the tidal wave washed over me.

Regret.

Self-loathing.

Guilt.

Why was I spared? When so many others haven't been?

Why was I spared? When so many others haven't been?

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