“He did. I’ll never understand how he reacted that quickly, but he dove right on top of him as the big blast came. If he hadn’t, Bean would’ve been dead. Instead, it was Creek who took the force of the impact, though we only later realized Bean hadn’t exactly come out unscathed.”
“Creek’s injuries were much more obvious…”
I was getting to the hardest part, the words that would forever change how Forest saw me. Any illusion that I was the good guy, that I had nothing to do with the accident, wouldbe gone after this. But I couldn’t hold back the words. Forest deserved the truth.
I took a deep breath. “They were, and so I focused on Creek. The medic came, and he was loaded into an ambulance, and I rode with him. He drifted in and out of consciousness, partially thanks to the painkillers they’d given him. Just before they wheeled him into the OR, he looked at me and said, ‘I told you that fucker would get us killed.’ And he was right. He’d warned me about Watts. Repeatedly. And it wasn’t that I didn’t believe him. I’d worked with Watts myself, and he was an arrogant asshole who thought he already knew everything, but unfortunately, that’s not enough to kick someone out of the Army. If it were, half the military would be gone. So in the end, I told Creek there was nothing we could do about it at the time and ordered him to stay on top of him. And he did. Creek rode Watt’s ass hard, but he couldn’t have prevented this. That’s on me. I should’ve taken Creek’s warnings more seriously. I should’ve gotten Watts removed. Instead, I made it your brother’s problem…and it almost cost him his life.”
My shoulders hunched, the stress slowly seeping out of my body. “That’s the nightmare I keep having, that they’re all dead and it’s my fault. I missed something. I didn’t pay enough attention. And it hurts because it’s true. Creek, Bean, and Tameron got hurt because I didn’t do my job…”
Silence fell, and I blew out a breath. What did Forest think of me now? Would he blame me for Creek getting hurt? He had every right to.
“What happened to Watts?” he asked instead, surprising me.
“To Watts? He was dishonorably discharged as soon as we confirmed he’d been at fault.”
“So the Army agreed it was his fault?”
Oh, I saw where he was going with this. “Of course the primary cause was his arrogance and ineptitude. If he’d donehis goddamn job the way he’d been taught, none of it would’ve happened. But that doesn’t mean I wasn’t at fault too. I failed as a leader.”
He hummed thoughtfully. “But the Army never disciplined you or whatever it’s called?”
“No, because technically, I did nothing wrong. But that doesn’t mean I’m not responsible. They got injured on my watch…”
And I would never forgive myself, but I figured Forest had gotten that message already. No need to repeat it.
“Okay, so in hindsight, what should you have done differently to prevent the accident? You said you should’ve taken Creek’s warnings more seriously, but what would that’ve looked like?”
That was a good question, actually. It wasn’t that I had disagreed with Creek on Watt’s attitude or performance. He had been an arrogant, lazy asshole who’d tried to cut corners from day one. And I had warned him, written him up, and had even reported him as a concern to Captain Bransford.
But Bransford had told me we didn’t have enough to get Watts discharged, and he’d been right. The Army couldn’t act on hunches and gut feelings, no matter how experienced their platoon leaders were. There were procedures to follow, and that had been my order to Creek.
And I had stressed it had to be done by the book, knowing that when the day came, I wanted there to be a clear record of every time Watts had fucked up and been reprimanded.
Except the next time he’d made a mistake, it resulted in disastrous consequences. It had been too late.
The truth seeped into me, like water trickling through a burst in a dam.
Ihadfollowed procedures.
I’d let Creek handle it, then reprimanded Watts myself and written him up. Again. And when that hadn’t resulted in the change I’d wanted to see, I had run it up the chain of command and pleaded our case to Captain Bransford. But he’d made clear we didn’t have enough yet, and so I had been given clear orders…and had executed them, as had Creek.
So what could I have done differently? Short of disobeying a direct order, what alternative had there been?
None.
Nobody could’ve known Watts would be that incompetent, that deliberately negligent with such catastrophic results. Not Creek, not me, and not Captain Bransford.
It had been…an accident.
My shoulders sagged as my eyes grew misty. “I don’t know,” I finally whispered. “I don’t know what I could’ve done differently, but they got hurt on my watch, under my command, and that’s…”
But if I finished that line of reasoning, Creek had been his direct superior. If I considered myself guilty, despite knowing Captain Bransford had been consulted and had denied our request to have Watts fired, then by the same line of reasoning, Creek would be guilty too. He sent the problem up the chain of command, as I had done, and we had both carried out the orders we’d been given.
But not even Captain Bransford was at fault. He’d been right. He’d even run it by the JAG Corps, and they’d made it clear we needed more concrete proof.
Tears dripped down my face, but I didn’t bother wiping them because they felt freeing, as if they were helping me let go of something. A weight I had been carrying.
“It’s not your fault,” Forest whispered, his warm breath ghosting over my bare chest. My nipples hardened in response, but I ignored that.
