The Risks We Take Duet Box Set

58. Cooper

COOPER

“ I ’m afraid the 10 percent loss of vision in your right eye is permanent, Petty Officer.” My neurologist stands at the foot of the bed with a tablet in his hand and a pitying expression on his face.

“What do you mean permanent?” Twelve days of sitting in this hospital must be fucking with my hearing, not just my eyesight, because there’s no way I just heard the doctor right. “It doesn’t seem that bad.”

“The loss of vision in your right eye is permanent. It’s not uncommon with this type of injury. It could have been significantly worse than 10 percent. The good news is it’s only one eye, and your body will naturally compensate for it.” The but is coming. It’s in his stance and in his voice. “However, that does put you below the minimum sight requirement for the Navy.”

The blow hits harder than any suicide bomber ever could. “You’re telling me I’m done.”

“I’m telling you you’re being medically discharged. You’ve done your duty honorably. You’re being sent back to Coronado to sign off on the final paperwork. You won’t be returning to duty.” He hands me my hospital discharge papers. “You have a flight to catch.”

He walks out of the room as detached as he walked in, leaving me there to deal with the bomb he just dropped. Kind of fitting since an actual explosion caused the damage in the first place.

I’ve spent my life wanting to be a SEAL.

I’ve worked toward it.

I’ve fought for it.

I loved it.

It’s who I am. Who I was .

My phone rings next to me, and I pick it up without thinking. “What?”

“Real nice way to answer the phone, Cooper Sinclair.” Shit . It’s my sister.

I’ve avoided Nattie for the past week. Guess my time’s up. “Nat, it’s not a good time.”

“It hasn’t been a good time for nearly two weeks, Coop. I’ve called you every day. Every. Single. Day. Asshole. You almost died. You seriously couldn’t take ten minutes to call me back? Hey, sis, I’m okay. Hey sis, I love you too. Hey, sis, I’ve been banging our stepsister and keeping it from you. I mean, you had so many options, Coop. You could have picked any of them.” She finally takes a breath, and I jump in.

“Listen, how about this? Hey, sis, I just got told I’ve got 10 percent permanent loss of vision, and my naval career is over. Does that work for you? I love you. But trust me when I say now is not a good time. I’ll call you back soon.” I end the call before she can say anything else. Not ready... for any of it.

T hree hours later, I’ve signed away my life just to get discharged from the hospital, and I’m having a hard time reconciling my new reality as I get ready to head back to the states, less than the man I was when I left. This was it. The goal. My plan for my life. Career military.

Seventy-five percent of the men who start BUD/S don’t finish.

That was never an option for me.

I worked my ass off for this, and now it’s gone.

And who the fuck am I if I’m not a SEAL?

The thoughts play on a constant loop in my mind.

Trick wheels himself back through the door after physical therapy but stops when he sees me zipping my bag. His face pinches as he watches me throw my duffle over my shoulder. “You getting out today?”

“Yeah, man. They cleared me an hour ago. I’m catching a flight home tonight.”

“Fuck,” he groans. “They made it official?”

I nod, a mix of anger and regret churning in a wicked current in my gut. “An hour ago. Honorable medical discharge. My vision will never be what the Navy needs again.”

“At least you’ll be back in time for Linc’s funeral.” He grabs the chocolate pudding cup from my uneaten lunch tray and rips it open. “They still don’t know when they’re sending me stateside for rehab. Should be soon. But who the fuck knows if I’ll ever be back on the teams again.” He shoves the pudding-covered spoon into his mouth. “Have you heard anything else from Rook or Ford?” Pudding slips out of the corner of his mouth.

“Dude, fucking swallow first.”

Trick’s whole face lights up. “That’s what she said.”

I laugh my first real laugh since I woke up in this place. “Whatever, dipshit. I talked to Ford. Rook’s brothers haven’t been able to locate Axel or the guys they think he was working with yet. There’s been no communication from the terrorist group, and Command hasn’t said a damn thing about anything.”

He puts his spoon down and gets serious. “I’m really fucking sorry, brother.”

“Yeah. Me too.” I throw an arm around him and pound his back, not sure when the next time I’ll see him will be. “You take care of yourself over here. Keep your eyes open, and don’t fucking trust anyone. I’ll make sure we read you in on everything we find.”

“I guess that means you already know what you’re doing when you get back to San Diego.”

“Yeah,” I growl. “Finding that traitorous motherfucker and making sure he pays.”

M y military flight landed two hours ago. And thanks to the ever-efficient Navy, my separation paperwork has been signed.

I’m no longer employed by the United States Navy.

I also have no way to get the fuck home, so I call Ford.

My incision is on fire from sitting on a plane for so damn long, and my new constant—a headache forged in the fires of hell—is pounding behind my eyes as he pulls up in front of me and rolls down the window. “I bet I could make a lot of money as an Uber driver.”

“Worth a try.” I reach for my wallet and throw a dollar through the window.

“Get the fuck in the car, Sinclair.” He navigates us out of the parking lot before turning off the radio. “Is it true?”

I silence the phone ringing in my pocket. “You heard?”

“Yeah, man. Trick called earlier. This fuckin’ sucks. I’m sorry.” Traffic moves slowly as we get stuck in mid-day congestion, and exhaustion kicks in.

Understatement of the century. “Me too. Tell me you’ve at least got an update on Axel.”

Ford shakes his head. “We’re still working on it. But there hasn’t been any movement.”

“He’s one of us. He’s as good as us. We’re not going to find him if he doesn’t want to be found.” I close my eyes and lean back against the seat as my head pounds harder.

Ford takes the hint, and we drive the rest of the way in silence. When we pull into the driveway of Trick’s house, I open my eyes to see Ford staring at me. “You know Linc’s services are tomorrow, right?”

“I do now. I wasn’t sure.” I open the door and grab my duffle. “Thanks for the ride. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Let me know if you need anything.”

I nod and slam the door shut just as my fucking phone vibrates again. Dad’s name flashes across the screen as I let myself into the house. “Hey, Dad.”

“Your sister said you were discharged.” Okay then.

I guess we’re skipping the niceties.

“Yeah. Ten percent loss of vision puts me over the acceptable limit for any visual deficiency. I just finished signing the paperwork... so I guess I’m now unemployed.” Nothing like Nattie running to Dad.

“Oh, Cooper. I’m so sorry, son. Nattie only said you were being discharged from the hospital. I didn’t know...” He hesitates, not sure what to say.

That makes two of us.

“Why don’t you come home for a while. Recoup here. You could stay with us.”

I’m thinking Hell no would not be an acceptable answer. “I appreciate it, Dad. But I’m already back in Coronado. I have some things I need to handle. I’m not sure how long it’s gonna take.”

“The offer is always there, son.”

“Thanks, Dad. We’ll talk soon, okay?” I walk through the door of the house I shared with Trick and Linc, and everything feels wrong. “I gotta go, Dad.” I don’t wait for him to answer before I end the call.

The house is quiet. The air inside is untouched and stale, but something feels off.

I drop my bag in my bedroom and quickly check out the rest of the rooms, leaving Linc’s for last. His door is open, and I’m not sure what I’m expecting to find. It’s empty. He and Emerson had gotten their own place before we were deployed. He wanted space for the baby.

My fucking chest hurts at the insanity of it all.

Linc’s gone because of Axel.

What the actual fuck?

I make my way to the kitchen, knowing there’s nothing in the fridge, but the vodka in the freezer should be as good as new and ice fucking cold. I consider grabbing a glass for a second, then decide the bottle will do just fine and crack it open.

Maybe this can take away the fucked up thoughts that won’t leave me the hell alone.

The guilt.

The anger.

The fucking hate.

O ne minute, I was sleeping. The next, I’m drowning.

At least I think I am.

I sit up quickly to a spinning room and a sharp pain in my side while water drips down my face and soaks my shirt. My brain takes a minute to catch up to my eyes when I see Rook standing next to me in his full uniform. His dress whites are freshly pressed, with his medals lining his chest and an empty glass in his hand. “What the hell, man?”

“Get moving, Sinclair.” He kicks my foot. “I’ve been trying to get you up for five fucking minutes. We’re going to be late, and you can’t show up to Linc’s funeral smelling like you bathed in Russia’s finest.”

Fuck... I stand on unsteady legs, nearly tripping over the empty bottle of vodka on the floor next to my feet. I feel about as good as a beaten dog when I lean down to pick the bottle up, my side screaming with pain while my head throbs in unison.

Great fucking job, Sinclair.

Linc would be especially proud of the way I honored his memory last night.

When I stand up, Rook stares me down. Not an easy feat when not even an inch separates our heights. “You done feeling sorry for yourself yet, or are you enjoying the self-pity? Cause I gotta tell you, I liked you a fuck of a lot better when you were a cocky little shit.”

“Fuck you, brother.” I throw the bottle in the trash and slam the door of the bathroom behind me.

When I turn the shower on and wait for the hot water to kick in, I hear him yell, “Make sure you shave that shit off your face too. You look like a teenager trying to grow his first beard.”

Family comes in all sorts of shapes and sizes. And sometimes they’re the only ones who are willing to tell you what you need to hear even if you don’t want to admit they’re right. One night of feeling like shit for myself was more than I should have indulged in.

I’m alive.

We don’t all get to be here and say that.