All That I Dread by Linda J. White

Author:Linda J. White [White, Linda J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Windy Bay Books
Published: 2019-06-01T06:00:00+00:00

25

Nate slept on my couch that night. I offered him the bed and said I’d take the couch, but he would have none of it. The next morning over breakfast I thanked him for helping me.

“When you bring something like that into the light, it diffuses the power of it,” he said.

I cocked my head.

“I told you. I’ve been through it. I tried keeping it all in, hidin’ how much I was hurtin’. I wore an angry mask until I couldn’t anymore.” Nate shifted his jaw, measuring his next words. “Then when I started speaking what was in here…” he placed his fist on his chest, “it helped the healin’ start.”

I quickly rejected his analogy. “But Nate, you didn’t do anything! You got hit with an RPG, that’s all.” I reddened immediately. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. What I meant was you weren’t guilty, not like me. I as much as killed my partner.”

“Did you intentionally fail to cuff your suspect properly? Did you intentionally wreck your car? Hurt your partner?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then that’s false guilt, same as I was carryin’. False guilt and shame.” He rose to his feet. “We all got plenty to feel guilty about, but what happened with Lee, that ain’t part of it for you.”

Plenty to feel guilty about?

He didn’t explain further, and I didn’t ask. Instead, he made it very clear to me that if I thought about hurting myself, I was to call him at once. I rolled my eyes as if he were being dramatic.

I didn’t tell him about the tree.

He stopped me with a look. “I been there, Jess. I know. Sometimes the devil puts it in your mind your life ain’t worth livin’. That’s a lie. A damnable lie.”

I watched as Nate cleaned my little kitchen area, washing dishes, putting food away. Sometimes he was a puzzle. He simultaneously drew me to himself and scared me.

Nate stayed pretty close over the following few days. I didn’t want to leave the house, and he seemed to know that. He ran the dogs and brought me groceries. Best of all, he let me take the lead on initiating conversations, some of which were deep.

“Do you still have them, the dreams?” I asked him one day.

“Once in a while, when somethin’ reminds me,” he responded.

“Like what?”

“Fire.”

“But you burn wood.”

“I mean fire out of control—a house fire, a car fire, a forest fire.” He took a deep breath. “Once we responded to a search for human remains in a fire. That set me back weeks. Couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat.” He shook his head. “You never forget the smell of burning flesh. Especially, when it’s your own.”

I shivered thinking about that.

“I b’lieve it was the sound of those cars crashing that set you back that night we did the training.”

I nodded. “Yes.” I stared off to the side of the room, seeing that night, envisioning my panic. “I was okay as long as I had something to do. When I stopped, that’s when it hit.

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