prove he was strong like his brother Ty and smart like Kee and good like Jake. But he wasn’t any of those things. He was a fragile wreckage of a man who couldn’t even talk to people since...well, since everything that had happened over there.
He hadn’t had the chance to be a hero. He’d just been taken like a sheep from a pasture to the butcher truck. Fate had made him the last lamb in line.
He pressed the web of his hand between his thumb and index finger to his forehead, trying to ease the pounding. He was in a car again and there was not enough air. He released his head to grip the wheel, bracing for the blast, waiting for it.
This time he’d be ready.
Colt was not going back there now. Kacey needed him. He was here on Turquoise Canyon and he had to stay focused. But he knew he wasn’t keeping the panic attack away. He was only postponing it. The doc at Walter Reed in Maryland said he needed counseling and put him on the list. With luck, it would be decades before they would get to his name, because he wasn’t talking about that with anyone ever. No one who wasn’t held by insurgents could possibly understand.
His gaze flicked to Kacey, who sat with her head dropped back on the headrest but turned toward him. She smiled at him, her face relaxed and her hands laced over her belly. Her dark hair was gathered in a loose braid that lay on her shoulder. Her once soft, round face had changed. Her deep brown eyes were still bright, but there were dark smudges beneath them. Her lips were full and pink, but her jaw and pointed chin seemed too prominent in her thin face. How much weight had she lost? Kacey had always been slender, but now she was skinny, way too skinny. How much had they given them to eat?
Not enough—clearly.
The rations that he’d been given during his captivity rose in his mind and he pushed the memory of that down. One sure way to be of no help to her was to think about that.
No one understood that the captivity wasn’t as hard as the memories that just would not go away. It wasn’t getting better with time. It was worse. Colt gripped the wheel. He hated cars, trucks, anything that rolled. No one in his family understood. They were worried, but they didn’t get it. He could not think about it, but he was stuck somehow. Afraid all the time.
Kacey was now looking in the side mirror, watching for trouble. Perhaps she could understand, he realized. Because she’d been a captive, too. But then she’d also understand that he was the very last person capable of helping her. That was why he was leaving her with his brother. Any one of his brothers was a better choice than him.
The corner of his mouth twitched.
“Almost there,” he said to himself as much as to her.
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