“So now you’re a doctor who carries a gun.”
A reprieve, of sorts. “Aye, more hypocritical than Hippocratic.”
“Have you shot many pe—? I’m sorry—is that a bad question to ask a soldier? It’s just... I can’t see you doing that.”
“It’s what everybody wants to know and never asks. I’ve been fortunate that I’ve not had many situations where I’ve had to fire, and I’ve only served five years. Mostly weprotectpeople—against raiders, terrorists, militias... Our enemies tend to be cowards who don’t attack platoons of armed, trained soldiers. Usually they just wait until we’re ordered to leave, which they know will happen sooner or later, wait until those people are vulnerable again.”
“That must be gutting.”
“It is.”
“How long will you remain there?”
“I’ve just re-upped for another five years.”
“You don’t sound happy about it.”
He shrugged. Happiness was no longer something he sought. Escape and distraction were enough. When he’d lost his job and flown to Paris to enlist, five years had seemed an eternity, but it’d passed quickly. As would the next five, and the five after that, and the five after that, until real life had passed him by. What had he imagined, back when he’d walked through the gates at Fort de Nugent outside Paris? That after five years he’d slide back into normal life, without boundaries and rules and officers and his commando team? Leaving the Legion should be like leaving prison, with day release, then parole, then probation. If anything, the thought of free will made him more anxious now than when he’d enlisted—all that choice and personal responsibility. In the Legion, somebody always had his back—was paid to have his back. And he was answerable to his commanding officer not just one shift at a time but 24/7. In real life who would stop him from stepping on a land mine—real or figurative? And if anybody tried, would he heed the warning?
He slowed as they crossed the bridge and entered the thicker traffic of the high street. Samira had stilled, studying him but giving him space to think, as he had for her. Or perhaps she was just reading his mind again.
“Do you miss it?” she said, eventually. “The hospital?”
“With friends like those?”
She sighed. “Must be exhausting to always have to find a joke to suit the occasion.”
“Sometimes I’m so funny I have to go and have a lie down.”
She groaned, quietly. “Those people—there was respect there, too. They did what you asked, even though they seemed a little...reluctant.”
Reluctant? An understatement. And it was less about respect and more about fear that he’d spill some very damning secrets, which was far more than Samira needed to know. He turned off the high street into a lane flanked by brick terraced houses. “Ah, that’s my curse. People always seem to follow my lead when usually they shouldn’t.”
“I can see why they follow you.”
“You can?”
“You seem so together, so competent.”
“People quickly learn they’ve followed the wrong guy, often to their lasting regret. I have a knack for dragging people into trouble. Consider yourself warned.”
“What kind of trouble did you drag those people into—Mariya and the others?”
“Nothing I didn’t also get them out of.”
“Is that why they all owed you favors—because you got them out of the trouble you dragged them into?”
Holy freaking hell. And this was why he didn’t talk about his past. One sucking great black hole of trouble, especially with a perceptive woman like Samira. He shouldn’t have taken her into the hospital. Those were favors he’d never intended to call upon.
Deflect.“We’re nearly there.” At least the conversation seemed to have settled her anxiety. He’d put up with a lot of discomfort for that. He checked his mirrors and surroundings for the thousandth time since they’d left Westminster.
“Well,” she said, “this time you were the one dragged in. And I was dragged in myself. So we’re blameless, yes?”
“Totally.” Letting him off the hook, at last.
“Do you miss being a doctor?”
And right back on. He blew out a breath. Did he miss it? He tried never to think about the past. It only opened the door to regret—a door he’d bolted and padlocked and welded and parked an articulated lorry against.
