He Came Back

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Each breath he pulled deep inside his chest should have been enough for him to finally believe he was alive. Yes, he was breathing. Yes, he had all his fingers and toes. And yes, he was all in one piece. But even that physical reminder wasn’t enough for Sean to really believe he was whole—or to remove the feeling that everything inside him was dead.

Sean lay on the sofa, feeling the cushions give under his weight, feeling the tension in his muscles, wound so tight he didn’t think he could relax if he wanted to. He couldn’t even summon rest, the absolute necessity in any person with sound reasoning. The fact was that he’d lived this way for too long: on edge, on alert, ready to jump up at a moment’s notice and survive at any cost. Even though he was home now, he couldn’t step out of it.

Everything had changed. He was no longer the same.

He was no longer idealistic.

Sean Robert Green had once been sheltered. He had lived comfortably and believed he knew everything. He’d been so wrong. Born in Greenville, Pennsylvania, he felt as if he’d lived a lifetime at his ripe old age of twenty-eight. How had someone who came from a small, idealistic community along the Shenango River become the mess he was now? His father, Ed, was an accountant—small time, taxes—and part-time councilman. His mother, Marion, was a homemaker, middle class with middle expectations, with three kids, two boys and a girl, each three years younger than the last. His brother, Tom, the doctor in the family, had two kids and another on the way. He was separated from his wife now and had hooked up with a nurse in Manhattan. Susan, his sister, the baby of the family, was a high-powered executive in LA with some government contracts. He didn’t know what exactly she did, but she drove a Mercedes, owned a condo, and travelled extensively.

They were family, but to him they were all strangers now—all because he, the middle child that he was, had decided he needed more. He could do more. He could do better. He had joined the US military to defend his home, his family, his community. Yes, he was a hero. It was what he’d wanted in the beginning, but sometimes what we want isn’t what we should have. He knew that now.

He’d made his choice, opting for life in the military, not just any part of the military but the navy, in law enforcement and security. Having Uncle Sam fund his four-year college degree and then Officer Candidate School, he thought he was saving his parents the burden of financing another child. He figured it would be exciting. He wouldn’t be a grunt, on the ground, in the thick of it.

Oh, had he been wrong.

Now he was a stranger in a familiar body, moving through life, going through the motions. He squeezed his hands, fisting them so tight he could feel the moment his nails broke the skin, but that was just one more thing to cut through the numbness that filled his body, his head, his soul. Nothing could penetrate the intense horror that haunted him.

As he lay there, far from relaxed, he listened to the rustle upstairs on the second floor, the master bedroom, where his wife, Annie, slept. He knew the moment she was awake and the sound of her footsteps, knew exactly where she was and what she was doing. The toilet flushed and then water ran, and he could almost see her stopping at the door and waiting, wondering, considering. Of course she knew he wasn’t there. He’d never been with her in this house, in this bed.

What was she doing? What was she thinking? She’d either come downstairs and look for him or crawl back into bed. What would she choose?

Come on, Annie. What are you doing?

He wanted his time alone, but at the same time he wanted her to walk down the stairs and come to him so he could see her face, see the innocence in her deep blue eyes, which had never seen the darkness he had. But, at the same time, he was angry. If she did see any of that darkness, it would come from him, and he didn’t want that. It would be better if she weren’t here at all. He wanted her away from the evil and darkness that now tainted his soul and would without a doubt kill everything good inside her. Why didn’t she understand that?

The stairs creaked, and he shut his eyes, but he felt her before she stepped down the two steps into their living room, painted in soft greens and blue. Pretty, like her. It was why he’d chosen this place. Then he was watching her and how she looked in pajama shorts and a T-shirt, her dark hair sweeping past her shoulders and hanging in soft waves, even just from bed.

She stopped a short distance from him, taking in where he’d moved the sofa against the wall so he could see who was coming, no blind spots and no way anyone could sneak up on him. His eyes had long since adjusted to the dark, and he noticed the way the shadows lightened from the approaching dawn. The curtains were open, allowing the light in. That way, he could see if anyone was out there.

“You didn’t come to bed,” she said, then crossed her arms just under the swell of her breasts. “Again.”

He didn’t move as he took in how distant she sounded: worried, as if they had become two strangers passing in the night. At one time, he’d have been across the room, touching her, being with her, tasting her, loving her—but not now. Not anymore.

It had been so long ago, the last moment he’d been with her. Maybe it was to protect her from him and the darkness that had become a part of who he was. It hadn’t killed him yet, but he wished it would. That would destroy her, though.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he said. “Go back to bed.”

He couldn’t get up no matter how much he wanted to. And, good for her, she didn’t take another step closer. He mourned the necessary loss. He could see the way she hesitated, her lips firmed as if she wanted to say something. Then she must have realized there was no point, as this wasn’t a fight she had a chance of winning. He was lost to her. She had to know that.

She turned, and he shut his eyes as she glanced back at him once more from the top of the stairs. “Well, good night, then,” she said.

He listened to her footsteps on the stairs, the creak of the wood and the click of the closing door, and let out a breath that sounded far too much like relief, except it was anything but. It did nothing to alieve the burning swell of emptiness that had taken over every good thing in him. It had stolen the part of him that belonged to Annie, because where Sean had gone was a place even the devil didn’t go.