My head snapped up, but I managed to keep my face partially turned. Good thing too, because the kid seemed to be about sixteen or seventeen, and the way I looked probably would've scared the shit out of him.
“I'm fine.” I managed to give him a partial smile. “Just waiting for a ride.”
The kid didn't look convinced, but he nodded and walked away. That was good. I didn't feel like having a conversation about why I didn't want to have a conversation. And he pulled me out of the flashback I'd been having. It was weird, I thought, how I hadn't actually remembered any of that until now. Bits and pieces had been coming back to me over the past couple months, but not this. This was new.
I rubbed my forehead. My hangover was pretty much gone, but I still had a lingering headache. The heat and the plane ride hadn't exactly helped, but the flashback had made it even worse.
I needed to get out of here and find Nori. It was the only thing I could think of to keep me sane. I just had to find her.
I pulled out my cell phone. I knew the hospital wouldn't give out Nori's personal information, even if she didn't work there anymore, but I remembered her saying that her mother worked at a local diner. It'd be easier to find her mom, then have her get me to Nori. Hell, for all I knew, that's where she was anyway. Did most girls go to their mother when a guy had been an asshole? I certainly hoped so, because the alternative was that she was with Tanner, and I didn't want to think that.
I couldn't remember the diner's name, but I knew I'd recognize it once I heard it. After going through the business pages, I found what I was looking for. Several minutes later, I had an address. Now, I just needed a cab.
I braced myself for the heat, stood up and stepped outside.
Damn. I'd forgotten what it felt like here. I looked down the sidewalk toward the taxis, eager to get back into air conditioning. There were still a handful of people waiting, so I took my time heading down the sidewalk. By the time I reached them, all but two had already gotten into their cabs and left.
One glanced up as I approached and I saw his eyes widen. I waited for the inevitable question, my heart beginning to race. Then, just as he was opening his mouth, recognition kicked in.
“Snyder?”
He grinned. “I thought that was you, X.” He held out his hand.
His left hand.
It was only then that I noticed the empty sleeve where his right arm used to be.
I shook his hand. “It's been a while.”
He nodded. “That it has.”
Ricky Snyder had been in basic with me, but we'd parted ways shortly afterward as he went on to work toward a career as a ranger. We hadn't been as close as Zed and I, but we'd been friends of a sort.
“You stationed down here?” Snyder asked.
I shook my head. “Was. Not anymore.”
“I thought you were a lifer,” he said. “Mind if I ask what happened?”
It was then that I realized how different it was to have another soldier ask the question instead of a civilian. Here was someone who actually understood.
“You hear about a fire down here in March?” I asked. The moment I saw the flicker in his eyes, I knew he had. I pulled aside the hood of my sweatshirt enough so that he could see some of the scar tissue.
“I'm guessing that's not all of it,” he said.
I shook my head. “No. There's plenty more. Had some broken bones too.” I jerked my chin toward his missing arm. “What about you?”
“Three years ago,” Snyder said. “I was in Kabul. Sniper took out two of my guys, then blasted through my elbow. When I came to, another three guys were dead and my arm was gone.”
“Damn,” I said.
Snyder shrugged. “I was angry for a while, especially after my discharge.”
“And now?” I asked. And it was more than just wanting to know how he was doing. I wanted to know how he'd done it. How he'd moved past what happened. He wasn't some doctor or a shrink who didn't understand. It wasn't even like Kipp who had at least served but had made it out relatively unscathed.
“It's something I'm still working through,” Snyder admitted. “There are still days when I'm angry, especially when there's something that needs two hands, or if someone acts like an ass, but most days, I'm okay. You gotta have the support system though. You can't really do it alone.”
Something I was starting to realize too late.
“Well, it was great seeing you,” Snyder said. “But I have to go. I just flew in from a consulting job in DC, and the fiancée is already waiting at the florist.”
“You're engaged?” I asked.
His entire face lit up. “Emma. She's amazing, and definitely my biggest supporter.”
“Congratulations,” I said sincerely.