Hetch (Men OF S.W.A.T #1)(94)

I don’t answer, nor do I move. Stuck in a trance of time as it stands still. Seconds could be minutes, minutes could be hours. Exhaustion tugs at the edges of my mind and before I can put up a good fight, it wins.





Thirty-Five





Hetch





“Shoot me. Or I’ll have to do it.” His voice teeters between a moan and a tremble. While my hand rests ready on top of my gun belt, prepared to arm myself at a moment’s notice, my gaze stays trained on a man I don’t recognize, yet love.

“That’s not going to happen, Dad,” I tell him with all the conviction I can muster. It’s almost surreal, like we’re reenacting the play-by-plays we used to run when I was going through the academy.

“I’m telling you it’s happening, Liam. Don’t think I’m not going to end today the way I intended.” He takes a step back from me as I step in closer. The gun he’s pointing at me wavers as his free hand moves to his hair, tugging in irritation.

“What way is that, Dad? What exactly is the end goal here?”

“It has to. It does. It has to. You know it. You know it,” he mutters. I’m not sure to himself or to me.

“Dad,” I call him back; I need him to stay focused and in the moment. “Don’t do this to me, Dad.” This isn’t my father, the man who raised me. This is someone else. Another version of him. The version he’s been struggling with for the last few years.

“Talk to me. Tell me what’s happening here.” I take another small step closer, my mind trying to figure out how to stop this.

Maybe I can bring him down with my Taser.

“Stop right there, Liam.” He jerks back. “Stay out of range.” He might not be of sound mind, but he knows my training.

“Dad, please.…” My voice cracks, not sure how I’m going to get us out of this, but I can’t stop till I have tried.



“Hetch?”

The scene fades, and a black haze swirls around us returning me to the place he keeps meeting me.

“What are we doing back here?” I turn to face my father. Only this time there’s no gun, no threat of suicide. Just us.

“You know every time you relive it, I’m there with you. Every dream, every encounter. I’m there with you.” Silence beats between us as he stands there across from me.

“So you’re aware of what it did to me? What it did to all of us?” In my mind, the question comes out as an accusation, but the truth is, I’m just a kid, standing in front of the man I thought hung the moon for thirty years, asking why we weren’t enough.

“I do, son. And if I could take it back I would. But at the time, I wasn’t thinking about you. I wasn’t thinking about anything but stopping the pain in here.” His hand rubs his chest, and it’s almost like I can feel his pain inside of me. “I was sick, and I was hurting. But you have to believe me, the last thing I wanted to do was hurt any of you. You were all my life, but no matter what I did, or how hard I tried to be the person you all needed me to be, I couldn’t. I couldn’t do it.”

Time stretches between us as I wait. Wait for understanding. Wait for clarity. When it doesn’t come, panic rises to the surface. I’ve waited three years for this, and his words aren’t the magic fix I thought I needed.

“It never goes away, you know? No matter how hard I try to forget, no matter how hard I fight it, it’s always there.” Every minute of pain he’s handed to me comes back, and for a second, it’s almost too much.

“I know, son. And if I could go back and change things I would. I’d do it in a second and vow to live through the pain all over. If I thought sorry would ever be enough, I would say it a million times over to you. But, Hetch, I can’t do that, and sorry isn’t enough. Nothing will ever be enough.” I don’t know what I was expecting from his words. Maybe a moment of understanding. Maybe relief. But the truth is I get neither. His words don’t take the pain away, his presence doesn’t soothe the ache.

I’m still me, and he’s still him, and together we’re here.

Wherever here is.





Thirty-Six





Liberty





“In my head, there’s this woman. She’s brave and she’s smart. She has it together.” The monitors next to Hetch’s hospital bed beep loudly between us. “She’s nothing like me, you know? She’s so positive, so optimistic…” I trail off when the door opens and the doctor walks in.

“He hasn’t woken up yet. Why isn’t he waking up, Doctor?” I don’t bother with the sequential greetings as I stand and give her room. It’s been two days, and I haven’t left Hetch’s side. I know every doctor on the roster? every nurse who’s come in. I know all the gossip. Who’s screwing who. Who hates who, and who’s not talking to who. In the beginning, it helped. A distraction to keep the minutes from dragging, but now the days are ticking by and I’m done with the small talk. I’m done with the gossip. I’m done with the waiting. I want him to wake up. I’m ready for him to wake up. I need him to wake up.

“There’s still time.” She starts to do her doctor thing. Picking up his chart, she moves around the right side of the bed before pressing some buttons on the screen attached to his monitors. It should all be really scary—the tubes, the sounds, the wires—but sitting here watching, I don’t see anything but him.