I lick my lips. “From the military?”
He nods, eyes still closed.
“Tell me about her.”
“I don’t know her, beyond the fact that she was Phil’s wife. I just send her money.”
“Doesn't she get money as a widow?”
He sighs, a sound filled with pain and guilt. “She does, but it's not enough. Not for what they've lost. And I... I feel responsible.”
“Why?”
“Because he should be alive instead of me.” The raw anguish in his voice makes my heart ache.
I stifle a gasp. “No. Why would you say that?”
He opens his eyes, and the depth of sorrow I see there takes my breath away. “Because it’s the truth. She has three kids who have to grow up without their father.” He sits up, pushing me off him.
I cling to him like a koala, unwilling to let him retreat into himself. Now we’re sitting on the carpet, with me on his lap, our faces inches apart.
“Tell me what happened there,” I whisper. “Please, Ryder. I need to know.”
He sighs, a sound full of resignation, then stands up, with me still hanging onto him, my legs wrapped around his waist. My weight doesn’t seem to bother him at all. He walks to the sofa and sits down.
I rest my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. It’s faster now, betraying his calm exterior.
Thump-thump.
Thump-thump.
“My story isn’t different from most soldiers whocome back from service. An incident in the field, casualties.” His voice is flat, detached as if he’s reciting a report.
“We were on a routine mission. Me and a team of three others, and we ran into an ambush.”
I bite my lower lip to keep from making a sound.
“It wasn’t the first time. You enter a village that looks peaceful, then discover it’s not. This time, it was children. Kids no older than twelve, approaching our Jeep with grenades in their hands.”
“Oh God,” I whisper, covering my mouth.
His grip tightens as he speaks. “I called for help. Backup. Got nothing. We tried to retreat, but they had us surrounded. I had no choice.”
He holds me so tightly I can barely breathe, but I don’t make a sound.
“I aimed my gun at one of them, my hand shaking. I hesitated. In that moment of indecision, someone snuck up behind us and attached an explosive to the Jeep.” His voice cracks on the last word.
“Ryder...”
Ryder’s voice drops to a haunted whisper. “When the charge exploded, time seemed to stop. One second, we were on high alert, and the next, the world erupted into chaos. The blast was deafening—it was like my skull was splitting open. My ears rang so loud I thought I’d gone deaf.”
He pauses, his eyes unfocused, lost in the memory. “For a moment, I was sure I was dead. Everything went silent, like I was underwater. Then reality came crashing back, and with it, the screams.”
His body tenses beneath me, and I resist the urge to comfort him, knowing he needs to get this out.
“The two in the back, God, they were in bad shape. Torn up by shrapnel. The guy next to me caught some in his leg—couldn’t even stand. And me?” He gestures to his shoulder. “Caught a piece there. It hurt like hell, but I could move.”
Ryder’s voice breaks as he continues. “I dragged them out one by one. The Jeep was a twisted wreck, and I had to fight to get them free. I kept telling them they’d be okay, that help was coming. But deep down, I knew. The injuries were too severe.”
