CHAPTER 6

ROOTS OF FREEDOM

JAKE

Kayla and I stand tall in our Canadian Armed Forces ceremonial uniforms, the medals and ribbons on our dress coats a reminder of our fourteen years of service together. We're thirty-three years young and finally ready to settle down.

For some, the sight of death is nothing, but for me, it's hard to forget. Kayla's smile still shines bright, untouched by the darkness we've seen.

Still, I'm grateful for Lieutenant Cory MacLean. He's been there for me through my PTSD, helping me find the courage to seek treatment and rebuild my life.

My phone dings with a text message. Derrick's name flashes on the screen.
Hey old buddy! You're leaving today, right?

I type back: Just on our way out, actually lol.

He replies: Let us know when you're getting close.

I reply: Will do.

"Who's that?" Kayla says.

"Derrick's losing his mind. He can't wait to see us."

"Does he know it's a two-day drive?"

"I hope so."

It's the last box to load into the U-Haul. Kayla stands beside me, eyes gleaming, dress uniform spotless. The medals on her chest catch the light, a proud and quiet testament to everything she's given.

She was cute as hell back then. Now she's flat-out breathtaking. That uniform just makes it harder to look away. When she looks at me like that, I still get butterflies, even after all these years. It was like, bam, bam, bam: graduation, marriage, then the army. She signed her new name, Kayla Spryfield, for the first time on our enlistment forms. It felt surreal, but it felt right. She rose to the rank of Lieutenant, RN, Critical Care Nursing Officer, while I finished as a Master Corporal in the infantry division.

I pull her close, like I'm shielding her from a grenade blast, and plant a long, solid kiss on her lips. I forget about the group of comrades laughing and clapping around us. We stop, turn, and salute.

"As you were, soldier."
"I'm still your Master Corporal, Lieutenant MacLean."
"Sir, yes, sir. Permission to laugh and take selfies with you, sir?"
"Permission granted, Lieutenant."

"We're sure going to miss you around here," Cory says, pulling out his phone for a photo with me.

The words catch me off guard. I shift my stance and give him a small nod. Around here, a man doesn't say things like that unless he means it. You don't always get another chance to say what matters. We know that better than most.

"We'll miss you too, Cory."
"Sir?"

He reaches for a handshake. I take it, then pull him in for a quick, back-slapping hug.

I place both hands on Cory's shoulders and look him in the eyes.
"Listen to me very carefully, okay?"

I glance around at the rest of my comrades, hands still on his shoulders.

"This goes for everyone, but especially for Lieutenant MacLean." I look back at him.

"I need you to take charge. These days are uncertain, and we don't know when the next big thing's going to erupt. You're the best lieutenant I've ever had, and these men rely on your leadership to get them in and out of the field alive. So no matter what happens, do what you have to do to maintain order. Keep them safe."

"Yes, sir."

I pat him on the shoulder.
"Drop me a text if you're ever coming to the island, and we'll get together for drinks."

"Yes, sir!"

I make my rounds, shaking hands.
"Stay out of the trash can, Brad. And you, Jimmy, keep your safety on when you're not using your sidearm. I know I've said it before. A few times."

Laughter breaks out.

"And you, Rob, stop chasing small animals when you think there's nothing else to do. There's always something to do."

More laughter.

"And Bobby... you are not in Call of Duty. Reality is an important thing to consider when you're in real battle. You will not respawn."

The laughter grows.

"But it does keep it interesting," Bobby says.

"At least until you get shot with real ammunition," I warn him. "Been there, done that. It actually hurts."

I finish with a wry smile and a nod to wrap up my tongue-in-cheek warning.

Lieutenant MacLean turns to Kayla and offers a handshake.

"Thank you for your service, Lieutenant."

"Thank you. Yours as well."

Kayla's expression shifts. "But guys, listen. Just because we're leaving doesn't mean you shouldn't talk to someone if you need to. Injuries, physical and mental, only get worse if left unchecked." She scans the group. "Your physical health is just as important as your mental health. Don't hesitate to reach out to your Member Assistance Program. They're available twenty-four seven."

She pauses for a moment. "As I leave with my husband, remember that family isn't just about blood ties. It's about the bonds you've formed here. Cherish those relationships and support each other. You have a support system that will always be there for you."

🍓 🍓 🍓

The August heat brings unusually high temperatures and clear skies, perfect for travel. But leaving the base stirs a mix of emotions. I'll miss the camaraderie and the support of my team. Civilian life, for the first time as an adult, is going to feel strange. Still, I'm looking forward to a bit of normalcy and, most of all, starting a family.

I start the engine of the U-Haul, flick on the headlights, and ease out of the parking lot. I give one last wave to the crew.

It's a strange feeling when your heart breaks a little without warning. I'm tough, but I'm still human.

Time to start fresh and move on. Nothing wrong with that, I tell myself as we drive away.

I pull onto Highway One, eastbound.

After a few minutes of silence, Kayla turns to me, wrinkling her nose with a weird smile and a wide, toothy grin. I can't help but smile back.

"Excited?" I ask.
"I can't believe how long it's been." She pauses. "We should go see the old homestead, eh? When we get back?"

I glance over, thinking of the stream, the berry picking, and all the good times we had. Some of my favorite memories. Aunt Marie has been looking after the place since my parents passed away over a decade ago, but I don't think she likes being alone in that big old house. She's moving into seniors' housing now, so she doesn't need that kind of space.

I never told Kayla about my phone call with Aunt Marie. That was when I learned something surprising. Mom had left the house in her name. But when Aunt Marie found out we were coming home, she signed it over to me. The paperwork's all done. The house is mine now.

She's going to flip.
I smile to myself.

Kayla notices. "What's up?"
"Nothing. Why?"
"You're smiling."
"Just looking forward to never taking orders again."
"Excuse me? Did you forget that you're married?"
I laugh. "I meant the military."

After a few quiet seconds, she shouts, "I am the military!"
I flinch. "Aagh, fuck."

She doubles over, laughing.
"You scared me," I say, smiling.
"Sorry," she says, still laughing.
"I didn't expect that. You're such a menace." I grin and chuckle it off.

"Oh! I love this one!" she shouts, grabbing the radio knob and cranking it just in time for the chorus. Livin' on a Prayer blasts through the speakers. She jumps right in, belting it out with no shame, air guitar already in full swing.

I glance over. She's all in. I join her. Two broken voices, off-key and loud, tearing through the song like we're on stage with Bon Jovi himself.

🍓 🍓 🍓

After what feels like a week, our twelve-hour drive ends with a much-needed rest at Edmunston, New Brunswick's Best Western Hotel.

I unlock the room door and enter, flicking on the light. I'm impressed that the switch by the door turns on the lamp next to the bed. I kick off my shoes and set my suitcase by the desk. Kayla tosses her backpack next to mine. She unzips her bag with that effortless grace she always carries, even when she's beat.

She glances up at me, her lips curving into a small smile.
"You look exhausted."
"Never. I don't get sleepy."

I unbutton my dress shirt, slipping it off my shoulders and letting the stiff fabric slide down my arms. The medals and ribbons feel like dead weight as they hit the floor, a reminder of the burdens I've carried. My muscles tense and relax with the motion, broad shoulders shifting, forearms flexing as I unfasten my belt.

I can feel her eyes on me, tracing the lines of my body, studying the hard edges carved from years of training and discipline.

She watches me like a complex knot she wants to untangle.

I drag the undershirt over my head, muscles tightening as I reach back. I pull at my belt, the metal clasp clicking as it comes undone. The dress pants slide off, pooling at my feet before I step out of them.

My body aches from the drive, tension knotting in my neck and back. I rub at the tightness, rolling my shoulders and feeling a small wave of relief wash over me.

As I turn to her, our eyes meet. I see the spark catch. I reach out, my hands at her waist, and feel the warmth of her skin through the fabric. Her arms rise. I slide her blouse away and let it fall. Her hips shift as the dark blue military skirt slips down her legs. I lean forward to kiss her lips.

"Wait." She picks her ceremonial uniform up off the floor, folds it, and places it on the desk. "Fold it first."

I grin, pick mine up, and do the same. She smiles back. Even the threat of a good time can't keep us from our discipline. I grab her waist and swing her onto the bed.

We draw together in the quiet. I grip her waist and pull her over on top of me, our lips meeting in a gentle, exploratory kiss. I switch off the lamp.

I look up into the eyes I've known for years. In the low light, the green darkens. Moonlight through the window catches just enough to make one side shimmer brighter than the other. 

Thank you for reading this sample. The first six chapters are only the beginning. Beyond these pages, Jake's journey will break him, remake him, and test the promise he swore never to break. The road ahead is darker and more heartbreaking, but every moment is bound by a love worth fighting for. 

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