Soldier Mine (Sons of War #2)(25)
I can’t keep running, if I want him to be stable and happy. For now, it’s an option to stay put, to give Todd a chance.
“Okay.” The hoarse word is barely audible. “Okay.”
It’s all I can manage. Without another word, I stand and hurry to the employee section of the kitchen. I’m overwhelmed, scared … I can’t even identify all the feelings pummeling my brain. They bring tears to my eyes, though, and I take several deep breaths to calm myself.
I survived the discussion and came out with a plan to help Todd. It was, in every way, a success. My focus needs to be there instead of on the fear I experience any time I consider trusting someone. I have to be brave for Todd. If anyone can help him, Petr can.
Chapter Eleven: Petr
It’s hard for me to be triumphant about Claudia’s thaw. It took her too much effort for me to feel victory, and I’m even more certain now she’s running from something really bad. She’s scared, and I don’t like it one bit.
She doesn’t re-emerge from the kitchen before I leave. I head home and grab the community center schedule to figure out what might work to keep Todd busy for most evenings in the week.
Claudia is right to be worried. Todd’s questions when we first met, coupled with the fact he went so far as to buy a gun, are definite red flags. He’s moved from emotional angst to action and is willing to confront whatever issue it is without understanding the potential consequences of any actions he chooses to take. If he finds out she took his gun, there’s nothing to prevent him from buying or borrowing another.
My first thought – that he needs to understand what it really means to hurt or kill someone else – is one that’s hard to address head on without tipping him off that we know about the gun. I sit for a moment in deep thought, disturbed by whatever mess they’re involved in but helpless to do more than she’ll let me.
I wish Claudia would talk to me. It’s frustrating to work in the dark like this and … I like her a little too much not to want to wrap my arms around her and Todd both and protect them.
The community center has a plethora of activities for the local kids. My gaze slides to my iPad, and I flip through my schedule as well. I’ve got ten class visits throughout the county before Christmas, along with a trip to the local military base, mandatory military training and …
A visit to the local vet’s hospital to talk to those injured in battle. I go monthly, partially out of a sense of duty to my fellow service members but also to gather the names of new amputees who might be good candidates for the private medical center housing the experimental program where my bionic leg was developed. I also visit one of the guys who was on my team the night Mikael died.
It’s a perfect opportunity to show Todd the grittier side of war and what a bullet can do to someone. I don’t know if it’ll help, but it can’t hurt for him to know in advance how much damage a weapon in the wrong hands can inflict.
If only I had Claudia’s number to call and let her know what I’m thinking.
It takes me all of ten seconds to debate the pros and cons of showing up twice to see her in one day and decide it really doesn’t matter. If she has a problem with it, or if she’s scared off by it, I’ll remind her this is about Todd.
So I create a proposed schedule for Todd and return to the diner for the second time around eleven. The crowds of morning shoppers have thinned out, and I go to the breakfast bar instead of my regular booth.
Claudia glances at me curiously when I enter. She seems to have recovered from the trauma of talking to me earlier and I wait for her to come by.
“You can’t want more pie,” she says and pauses on the opposite side of the counter from me.
“Baba wants to know what kind of wedding cake you want,” I joke with a smile.
She laughs and flushes. “I love your father, Petr.”
“He’s a good guy,” I agree. “Expect him to be back, by the way.”
“Not a problem.” She’s relaxed and her eyes shine. “Coffee?”
“Not this time.” I unfold the piece of paper I printed with a schedule for Todd. I’m organized to the point of anal at times, thanks to the military, and I’ve planned out an entire month worth of activities, down to the times, locations and mode of transportation. I hand it to her.
“What is it?” she asks, accepting it. She reads through it. “You did this for Todd?” She looks up at me, surprised.
“Did I miss anything?”
“No.” Her brow furrows in puzzlement. “I … wow. I’m not sure what to say.” Her focus returns to the paper, and she studies the entries stretching from the end of November through the New Year. “This is amazing.”
“Just say it works for you and Todd, and I’ll make it happen.”
“This is too much, Petr. I can’t … I won’t let us take up the time you should be spending helping everyone else in town,” she says without taking her eyes off the paper.
“It’s my pleasure, Claudia.”
She meets my gaze. I can almost see her internal struggle. It doesn’t take a genius to guess she’s not used to entrusting her brother’s welfare or interests to anyone else. The two of them are almost inseparable, and their affection for one another is irrefutable.