Read Online When I See You by Katherine Owen - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Katherine Owen
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you."
He takes my arm and pulls me towards the door. I turn and take one final look at Ethan.
"Love you for always," I call out to the motionless god lying on the table.
I swear I hear Ethan's voice call back to me, 'Love you, for always, Jordan.'
Good. I'm crazy.
Good. That's good.
That's fine. Fine.
Igor Dasher is looking at me in alarm and I fear I've spoken my thoughts aloud, but he refrains from saying anything more. I grace him with a benign smile, as we glide down the hallway together arm-in-arm. The funeral director hands me off to Ashleigh with a fervent wave of his left hand and not another word. The man seems more comfortable among the dead. I give him this beseeching look, attempting to convey my wishes for him to take care of Ethan in the most respectful manner. As if reading my thoughts, the green velvet man makes that promise to me.
"Thank you, Mr. Dasher," I finally say. "Thank you for letting me in to see him and say good-bye."
*≈*≈*
Chapter 5. A coordinated assault
Brock
I open my eyes and see nothing. Nothing, but blackness, as if I am in a cave without a light source. I blink several times, as if, somehow, by doing so, I will dislodge the darkness that surrounds me. I still can't find the light.
I shake at the sudden touch of a hand upon my arm as a sweet voice whispers, "Welcome back, Lieutenant Wainwright. How do you feel?"
"I can't see." I try to control the tremor in my voice and the one that shoots through my body—a fault line shifts inside, causing me to tense up all over.
"I'll be right back," she says.
A few interminable minutes later, I feel the bed move beneath me.
"Lieutenant Wainwright. You're awake," says a new voice. Male. Authoritative. Haggard.
"I can't see," I say again with matched authority that all but commands him to fix it .
There is this unfamiliar sensation with panic that stirs to life inside. It threatens to surface as the minutes seem to grind by. A hand touches my eyelids and pulls them back. Looking. Looking. Looking for what? I can't see.
My breathing gets labored the longer this goes on. My heart rate speeds up, and this burning sensation stabs at me at mid-chest.
"What is it? Why can't I see?" My words come out harsh, but I keep going. "Why can't I see?"
"Yes. The medic on scene said that you complained of that after you returned to camp. Before that." He pauses. "Could you see before that?"
My mind races, thinking back to what he is talking about. "Before when? What are you talking about?" The terror threatens to surface. I gasp for air.
"Do you remember returning to camp?"
"There was a mission. Ethan and me. We were on a mission. A long hike." Flashing images of Afghanistan roll through my mind. Tall grass. All the fucking dust. I turn my head, as if I can hear Ethan talking to me. My eyes search the darkness and try to make out an image, an image of any kind, but there's nothing. I see nothing.
"It was dark," I say in a low voice. My throat tightens. I squeeze my eyes closed and then open them again. "It was all black. Treacherous terrain. Carrying everything. I know I saw the light of the camp." My voice trails off as my mind attempts to deal with the present and nothing but darkness.
My memory must be playing tricks on me; it flashes with the images of a black night of Afghanistan. I lean back against the bed. My head is caught between two pillows. I struggle to gain my balance and reach out and feel the cold steel of what must be the bed rail. My breathing gets more uneven.
"Do you remember anything else?" he asks.
"What? No. I don't remember anything. It's too dark."
The reality of darkness attacks me from all sides. The pain in my chest worsens. Blackness engulfs me. I close my eyes, trying to escape its oppressiveness. I open them, but it's still there. I struggle to catch my breath. I'm forgetting something. What is it? Something happened, but I can't remember what it is.
"Lieutenant, we're doing everything we can. You
He takes my arm and pulls me towards the door. I turn and take one final look at Ethan.
"Love you for always," I call out to the motionless god lying on the table.
I swear I hear Ethan's voice call back to me, 'Love you, for always, Jordan.'
Good. I'm crazy.
Good. That's good.
That's fine. Fine.
Igor Dasher is looking at me in alarm and I fear I've spoken my thoughts aloud, but he refrains from saying anything more. I grace him with a benign smile, as we glide down the hallway together arm-in-arm. The funeral director hands me off to Ashleigh with a fervent wave of his left hand and not another word. The man seems more comfortable among the dead. I give him this beseeching look, attempting to convey my wishes for him to take care of Ethan in the most respectful manner. As if reading my thoughts, the green velvet man makes that promise to me.
"Thank you, Mr. Dasher," I finally say. "Thank you for letting me in to see him and say good-bye."
*≈*≈*
Chapter 5. A coordinated assault
Brock
I open my eyes and see nothing. Nothing, but blackness, as if I am in a cave without a light source. I blink several times, as if, somehow, by doing so, I will dislodge the darkness that surrounds me. I still can't find the light.
I shake at the sudden touch of a hand upon my arm as a sweet voice whispers, "Welcome back, Lieutenant Wainwright. How do you feel?"
"I can't see." I try to control the tremor in my voice and the one that shoots through my body—a fault line shifts inside, causing me to tense up all over.
"I'll be right back," she says.
A few interminable minutes later, I feel the bed move beneath me.
"Lieutenant Wainwright. You're awake," says a new voice. Male. Authoritative. Haggard.
"I can't see," I say again with matched authority that all but commands him to fix it .
There is this unfamiliar sensation with panic that stirs to life inside. It threatens to surface as the minutes seem to grind by. A hand touches my eyelids and pulls them back. Looking. Looking. Looking for what? I can't see.
My breathing gets labored the longer this goes on. My heart rate speeds up, and this burning sensation stabs at me at mid-chest.
"What is it? Why can't I see?" My words come out harsh, but I keep going. "Why can't I see?"
"Yes. The medic on scene said that you complained of that after you returned to camp. Before that." He pauses. "Could you see before that?"
My mind races, thinking back to what he is talking about. "Before when? What are you talking about?" The terror threatens to surface. I gasp for air.
"Do you remember returning to camp?"
"There was a mission. Ethan and me. We were on a mission. A long hike." Flashing images of Afghanistan roll through my mind. Tall grass. All the fucking dust. I turn my head, as if I can hear Ethan talking to me. My eyes search the darkness and try to make out an image, an image of any kind, but there's nothing. I see nothing.
"It was dark," I say in a low voice. My throat tightens. I squeeze my eyes closed and then open them again. "It was all black. Treacherous terrain. Carrying everything. I know I saw the light of the camp." My voice trails off as my mind attempts to deal with the present and nothing but darkness.
My memory must be playing tricks on me; it flashes with the images of a black night of Afghanistan. I lean back against the bed. My head is caught between two pillows. I struggle to gain my balance and reach out and feel the cold steel of what must be the bed rail. My breathing gets more uneven.
"Do you remember anything else?" he asks.
"What? No. I don't remember anything. It's too dark."
The reality of darkness attacks me from all sides. The pain in my chest worsens. Blackness engulfs me. I close my eyes, trying to escape its oppressiveness. I open them, but it's still there. I struggle to catch my breath. I'm forgetting something. What is it? Something happened, but I can't remember what it is.
"Lieutenant, we're doing everything we can. You
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