All for You Read Online Free PDF Page A

time.
    “Don’t come back in here again,” Giles said, sitting down at his desk. He thrust a sheet of paper at him. “Wisniak is being admitted to the hospital. Here’s the list of shit he needs.”
    Reza accepted the paper, barely managing to avoid swearing under his breath.
    Dismissed, Reza stepped into the hallway and headed for the door. It was only when he was in the quiet cab of his truck that he rested his head on the steering wheel and released a shuddering breath.
    The flask he kept in the glove box whispered his name. Calling him. Just one sip.
    He breathed deeply. He’d never thrown the flask out. He’d wanted to believe that he was strong enough to do this on his own. That he could be around the alcohol without drinking.
    It was a daily test.
    He knew what it would taste like: bitter and sharp, and it would burn the whole way down.
    And the numbness would follow. A comfortable numbness would spread through his veins. The pressure on his chest would be gone.
    He’d be able to focus. To relax.
    Instead he sat there, breathing in. Out. Slowly.
    Struggling to hold on to the sobriety that was his only chance of remaining a soldier.
    It was a long time before he drove back to the company ops.
    The flask remained unopened.
    *  *  *
    Emily knocked on the door, waiting for the soldier inside to answer. A muffled sound was the only response, so she pushed it open gently. Slowly.
    Sergeant Wisniak wasn’t a skinny kid but he wasn’t fat, either. He was just kind of puffy. Soft, maybe, might be the best description for him. She’d been seeing him for about a month now and the thing that struck her most about the soldier sitting quietly in the sterile room was the utter emptiness in his eyes.
    A week ago, he’d been excited. Motivated that the fog in his head was starting to lift.
    Eager to be the leader of men that he’d always wanted to be.
    Today, that eagerness was gone. Left in its place was an empty shell.
    “Sergeant Wisniak?”
    He blinked up at her.
    “We’re going to admit you,” she said quietly.
    Blink. Blink.
    “Do you think you can tell me what happened?”
    He looked away.
    Her heartbeat was the only sound. She stood there a moment longer, hoping he would answer. Hoping he would confide in her.
    Hoping he would give her some way to help him.
    But he said nothing and the silence grew too heavy.
    She left, wondering how she was going to find the strength to make it through the rest of the day.
    *  *  *
    Reza walked into the first sergeant’s office and closed the door. It still didn’t feel like his space. He wondered if it ever would. Maybe if he wore the rank it would feel real. Right now, it felt temporary. Transient.
    But that didn’t take away a single iota of the responsibility he had. He might not be getting paid for the job but he damn sure would give it everything he had.
    He stared at his computer screen, his lungs tight with frustration.
    He sent Foster a text message, telling him to round up Wisniak’s stuff and get it up to the hospital.
    He was just glad that Marshall was out of the office. Maybe Reza could get some work done without his commander dumping more shit on his desk.
    He glanced up as Sloban walked into his office. The young specialist should have looked rested and recovered from his month-long stint in rehab. Instead, he looked harried and stressed out.
    Sloban had changed so much since the last deployment. The kid with a steady trigger finger and bright, laughing eyes was long gone, buried from too many head injuries and no time off from the war.
    Sloban had done three tours. Three tours that had taken a vital piece of his soul and left this shattered man in his place.
    Guilt slithered up and threatened to choke him.
    Reza hadn’t been able to protect Sloban. Not from the chain of command. Not from the nightmares that hunted his sleep.
    Sloban’s body might have survived but the war had broken him anyway.
    It was breaking all of them.
    “Doesn’t look