The kind of rhythm you don’t trust.
The kind that could flatline with one wrong move.
I lean in closer.
Elbows on my knees.
Stare down at the soldier I’ve known since boot.
He’s the one who called me out when I got too quiet. The one who left notes in my boots when I forgot how to sleep. The one who told me—dead serious—if I didn’t tell that girl how I felt, he’d fly to the UK and do it for me.
“Yeah,” I whisper, dragging a hand down my face. “I fucked that up too.”
The light overhead flickers. The blood on my arm is dry now, cracking in patches like war paint. I don’t bother cleaning it off. Not until I know if he’s going to wake up.
I rest my forearms on the cot. Bow my head like I’m praying, even though I haven’t done that since the last time I thought God was listening.
“You can’t die, Mason. You hear me?” My throat tightens.“You’re the only one who still knows who I used to be.”
The tent’s too quiet.
Somewhere outside, a chopper starts spinning. The storm’s still blowing sand through every open gap, but in here, it’s like time has stopped.
Just the slow beep of the monitor. Just the sound of my breath trying not to break.
I close my eyes.
See her.
Cassandra, with her hands on my skin, tears in her voice, fire in her spine.
The way she looked at me — like she still saw something worth saving, even after everything I did to her. Even after I made her bleed just to prove I could walk away.
Fuck.
I press a hand to my chest like it might stop the ache. Like it might crush the part of me that still wants her more than I want my own survival.
She’s here and I ruined that too.
“You ever meet someone who made you forget what it feels like to want to die?”
My voice is rough.
Too low.
I don’t care if Mason hears.
Or if he’s somewhere else already.
“She kissed me like she wasn’t scared of the scars,” I say. “Like I was still human under all the shit I’ve done.” I scrub a hand down my face, eyes stinging. “She said my name like itmeant something.” I look down at him again. “Don’t make me go through this war without you, man.”
Silence.
“You’re the only bastard who gets it.”
The only one who knows that I break people for a living and still laughed when I snuck her syrup packets from the mess hall.
The only one who saw me look at her and said:
