Read Ramsey: A Military Bad Boy Secret Baby Pregnancy Romance (The Bradford Brothers Book 3) for Free Online Page B

understand. It sounds like you might have…”
    She trails off, not saying it.
    “PTSD,” I finish for her.
    “So, you’ve been diagnosed?”
    “No. No. Definitely not.”
    I don’t want her thinking that.
    “Ramsey, there’s no shame in it.”
    “I know. But, it’s the way they treat us. No one knows, and you can’t tell anyone. Ever.”
    That was another, selfish, reason I hadn’t told her. I don’t want anyone in the military to know. Not even my brothers know the full extent of it. They know I’ve had some “issues” and I’ve seemed rather “down” or “brooding” but that’s it.
    “Okay,” she says, immediately, and somehow, I trust her.
     
    After all, I suppose, why would she tell anyone? And how could she explain how she even knows personal information about me without also revealing that we were involved in an intimate, illicit relationship, which would be as detrimental for her career as it would be for mine?
    “My brother Jensen was pegged as having PTSD,” I tell her. “He didn’t even have it. He was just supposed to use it as his defense in a stupid criminal charge, for defending our mom against some loser who was beating on her. All he did was step in to prevent that from happening at the time, you know?”
    “Yes,” she says. “Or at least, I can imagine.”
    “Well, they wanted him to claim that he had PTSD but then he would be placed on disability and he’d never be able to re- join his unit. He would have been screwed if it weren’t for Riley.”
    “His wife?”
    “Yeah. But she was his lawyer first.”
    “That’s pretty cool.” I can feel her smile, even though I can’t see it.
    “Yeah, but by saying he had PTSD he would have screwed himself over. Can you believe it?”
    “I’ve heard that military policies can be pretty unfavorable to service members with PTSD,” she says. “And it’s unfortunate. You should be able to get help without being penalized.”
    “Exactly.” I nod, although I doubt she can see me in the dark. “I know other guys who’ve had it happen to them too. They exhibit some symptoms, so they’re sent to a shrink, who they think is assigned to help them, but instead the shrink reports everything to the military, since the military is who assigned the shrink, and the guy’s out of his job. His livelihood. Everything he knows. When the very reason he has PTSD is because of the military.”
    I shake my head.
    “Is that why you have it?” she asks.
    “I guess. I mean, I have had quite a few traumatic experiences while serving as active duty. But haven’t we all?”
    “Sure,” she says. “Once my plane was shot down. It was from low range and I was fine. It was kind of like a miracle. But it was definitely traumatic. My brother died the same way, a few years later, and it was like re- living my own scary experience all over again, while losing my brother at the same time.”
    “I’m so sorry to hear that. But I can relate. Once I was stuck in a fucking cave. We were propelling off a mountain and some enemy fire hit us, and we had to go hide in a cavernous part of the mountain. The debris exploded, and the hole was closed up, and we couldn’t get out. It was two days before they found us and got us out of there.”
    “Wow,” she says, sympathetic but impressed. “You’re a modern day Tom Sawyer.”
    “Like the Rush song?” I ask her.
    She laughs.
    “No, like the Mark Twain novel that the Rush song is based on. But you know, it’s fitting. It could be your song.”
    “You know that song too? Really?”
    “Sure. And it’s you. Rugged, independent, a warrior. It could be called Harlow Bradford.”
    “Very funny.”
    “I’m serious.” She puts her head on my chest, and I run my fingers through her hair. “Coming off as arrogant, but really it’s just because you can’t be bought…”
    This time she laughs, and I do too.
    “Anyway,” I continue. “When my brother was trapped in the burning helicopter, I thought