His skull tingled. He could feel the blood rushing to his head. Like a cartoon character who was about to blow his top.
Instinct or maybe training had him shoving his own cell and charger into his pants pocket so his hands were free as he spun to take in the apartment.
The bedroom door was closed.
Was she in there? A second question echoed in his head. Was she with someone?
He headed in that direction, cursing the crutches as he made his way awkwardly across the room.
Reaching out, he turned the doorknob and pushed the door wide.
The naked ass pumping fast was all he needed to see. But just in case he’d missed the obvious, his girl peered around the guy on top of her and made direct eye contact with him.
At least she had the decency to gasp.
Kyle didn’t say anything. He didn’t trust himself to stay in the room.
Just as she swung her legs down from where she’d had her feet braced on the guy’s shoulders, Kyle turned and headed back the way he’d come.
Damned crutches. He couldn’t even storm out of a room properly. But he did move as quick as the crutches allowed.
He wanted out that door before Gretchen got herself dressed and decided to run after him. Not that he was all that certain she would even come after him. It was pretty obvious he meant nothing to her.
Crap. He’d just lost the one bright spot in his convalescence.
The one thing he’d convinced himself wouldn’t be too bad about this time off to recuperate was being able to hang with Gretchen whenever she wasn’t at work.
That was off.
Although there was a new bright spot. The upside of him being currently broken was that he hadn’t pulled that guy off her and beat him to a pulp, which definitely would have put his career and his freedom in jeopardy.
Yup. If he’d been healthy, he might have done just that before he thought better of it. His broken ankle had saved him from himself. He tried to appreciate that, but it was hard to see the bright side.
He needed to get out of this apartment. More, he needed to get out of this city. This state, preferably.
There was no way he going to hang out in Coronado or anywhere near here—or her—for the next three months with nothing to do.
Reaching the door, he leaned down to grab the strap of his bag. The stink bug chose that exact moment to lose his footing on the wall and plummet down. It fell and made a perfect landing inside his bag.
He stared into the dark depths of the bag, packed tight with the jumble of items that had been his life since deploying.
Fuck it. He was not taking the time here and now to empty it and search for the stowaway. The bug was just going to have to come with him. But come with him where?
That was the question. He’d figure that out later.
He grabbed the bag and managed to hold on to the strap and the crutches just as Gretchen came rushing out of the bedroom, wearing Kyle’s US NAVY T-shirt, no less.
The answer to his question came to him. He was going anywhere that was far from her. And the sooner the better.
Hopping out of the way of the door, he managed to open it and maneuver through the doorway, all without losing his balance.
In the one act of angry rebellion he was still capable of, he shot her a glare and then slammed the apartment door, hard and loud, behind him.
That left him staring down the long ugly apartment building hallway lined with metal doors, their gray paint chipped by time. Though the doors had fared better than the threadbare and stained carpeting. Sporadic burned-out bulbs in the fixtures made it all look even more dreary than it normally would.
It was depressing even on a good day.
Between her place and the bachelor barracks, it had been a long time since he’d slept in a real house. Someplace without cement block walls. Someplace warm that didn’t look and feel like an institution. A real home.
Home. The word echoed in his head.
With all the things that annoyed him back home in New York, he’d never imagined he’d miss it.
His mom’s doting as she tried to feed him all the damned time. His brothers’ lame jokes and teasing. His perfect sister who was impossible to live up to. His grandmother who’d taken over the TV room after being widowed.
There were too many people in one house. That had spurred epic battles over bathroom time and power over the remote control.
Then there was his dad’s philosophical commentary for every single situation. And the old friends Kyle had graduated high school with who’d never made it over the town line or out of the shitty townie bar he used to sneak into underage. They still couldn’t understand why he’d left town. He guessed they never would.
And he couldn’t forget the brutal winter weather in the Catskills of New York… Enough said about that.
Strangely, a house packed full of family and familiar surroundings—things that had sent him running to the recruitment office straight from high school graduation and then all the way across the country to Coronado—all seemed really good right now.
When was the last time he’d had a home-cooked meal? He couldn’t remember, which was proof it was time to head home.
Opening his cell phone’s ride share app, he ordered a car back to the airport he’d just left.
He didn’t care if he had to sit there at the gate and wait until he could get on a standby flight. All that mattered was that he had a destination to look forward to at the end of his already long journey.
Home.
two
Hurricane Helen.
Of course the hurricane that was about to cost him a day of his life was named after a woman. It was just one more female responsible for turning his life upside down.
He’d gotten out of San Diego with no problem. Faster than he’d anticipated. The issue arose with his layover in Atlanta and that was thanks to Helen, the hurricane battering the East Coast.
Torrential rain and gale-force winds had grounded air travel throughout much of the country. No flights were coming in and none were going out of Atlanta, including his connection to New York.
It was with a sick kind of fascination that he had watched the status for every single one of the many flights listed on the big board change to Cancelled. That was when he had abandoned all hope of getting home today.
The gate agent, once it was his turn to speak with her after the long wait, was able to reschedule him a flight for the final leg home, but not until tomorrow morning.
So it looked like he’d be spending the night at good old ATL. He supposed if he had to be trapped somewhere overnight, Atlanta Airport wasn’t the worst place to get stuck. Not that it mattered. He could have been anywhere in the world and he’d be just as miserable, thanks to his current life situation.
Broken ankle. Broken relationship. Broken spirit…
At least he was currently about as far away as he could get from his cheating ex-girlfriend while still being in the continental US.
He pushed thoughts of her out of his head before his blood pressure rose to be off the charts and glanced around at the place he’d settled into for his long wait.
Thank goodness there was a USO here. It would supply food, water, WIFI and a comfortable place to relax and elevate his bad leg while he waited out the hurricane.
Not quite all the comforts of home but close, right down to the big leather sofa where he currently reclined with his foot propped up on the low table in front of him.