Kincaid’s big frame hit the door of the bar so hard it slammed the inside wall and sifted dust from the rafters. Not that anyone noticed. A country band played at full volume and everyone crammed inside was screaming above the music.

The smell of stale beer and sweaty bodies hit him in waves as he stomped across the floor. The lights were low enough to make every drunk look handsome and every wilted flower perk up. Glasses and longnecks clanked in applause at every stupid joke.

At six-five Ketch had no trouble looking over the crowd. The smell of sweat and mud seemed to grow thicker as he moved. This was just the kind of place he hated. No one was real; they were all pretending. He’d seen hangouts all over the world just like this. Different music. Different drinks. Same action.

Right now it was what he needed. He planned to do damage to as many brain cells as possible before dawn, maybe get in a fight or get arrested. Nothing mattered. Crystal had dumped him in a damn letter and scratched out all his dreams with her pen.

They’d served together, both Army Rangers. Spent a thousand hours planning their future and sometimes flying halfway around the world to spend their leave wrapped up in each other. Crystal was his only friend, his one love, his today and his tomorrow.

They had decided he’d muster out first and start college. She promised she would follow in a year. Crystal would complete her tour of duty, leave the army, and start teaching wherever he was, maybe get a master’s while he finished up. By the time he graduated, they would have saved enough for a house in any state that offered them both jobs. They had it all planned out. A home. A life together.

But she’d hesitated when it was time for her to leave the army. After all, it meant a promotion if she stayed one more year. Then another year passed. She said she wanted to travel, and her military assignments gave her the chance. She would serve another year. By then they could start grad school together.

Only now his graduation was less than two months away. He’d been expecting any day to hear when she’d be back to the States and out of the army. But her call never arrived.

Their texts and calls had grown more sporadic the last few months. He’d figured they were both just busy. While overseas she took online classes in programing, and he tried to get thirty hours of construction work in each week while studying, attending classes, and sometimes taking on programing jobs for some of the faculty. Some weekends, when he’d laid bricks or roofed a house for twelve hours, he’d been too tired even to check his email.