“The firefight was going well, but slow. We had to be perfect in our target selection. We were bogged down and separated. But we were fine. We were getting to the target. But Logan was always impatient. He began lighting fires. I didn’t catch him doing it until the fourth building. I ordered him to stop. Innocent people would be burned alive. He just laughed. I remember tightening my grip on my weapon. I don’t know what I would have done, but… But there was an explosion, and when I recovered, he was gone. Then it was pure chaos. Fire, bullets, screaming, panic.”
I opened my eyes so I didn’t have to see, but there was Naomi’s face. It wasn’t hard, but I could see the worry.
“I found the target. Or rather, the target found me. The whole town was in flames. He was escaping with what could have been his wife and children. I knew I couldn’t secure himand bring him to evac alone. So I killed him. In front of them. The wife threw herself on his body, screaming at me. The sons looked like they wanted to kill me. I remember the daughter’s face. She spat on his body. But she didn’t look at me with any less hate. I screamed at them to run. The buildings around us were going to collapse. They eventually did. And then I escaped to our exfil location. Everyone was there, except Logan. And I left him. I figured he was dead. Doesn’t excuse leaving a man behind, but I’m not sure I wouldn’t have killed him myself if I saw him again.”
Now she knew the truth of what I was. The twisted double helix of the creature they made me and the terrible things I’ve done, bound together to make me the monster I am.
We were silent for a long time. I'm still unable to look at her. I’m sure she’s looking at me with disgust.
"I'm a monster. I'm sorry I hid that from you." The words scrape my throat on their way out. I focus on the worn floorboards beneath my feet, still unable to meet her gaze. "I should never have touched you."
The morning light becomes harsh, revealing every scar on my body. Some are visible, most are not.
"You deserve someone good. Someone who hasn't done the things I’ve?—"
“Stop.” The word was firm but not harsh. "Look at me," she says quietly.
When I don't, she places her hand under my chin and gently tilts my face up. The touch is so tender it almost breaks me. I’ve never really considered how brave or not I am. But bringing my eyes to hers might be the hardest thing I have ever done.
I expect her to look like when I first met her. Stern. Or worse. Filled with disgust or hate. But that’s not what I find at all. She’s looking at me with kindness. Withunderstanding.
"I'm grateful I found you," she says. "Not just because I might be dead if I hadn't. Not just for what you've done for me. But because of who you are."
I try to shake my head, but she holds me steady. Her delicate finger moves to rest against my chest, directly over my heart. That gentle touch burns through me.
"This," she says, pressing slightly. "This is what matters. This is who you are."
“But the things I’ve done…”
"Are not all you are." Her eyes never leave mine. "I know you could have killed me in those woods, and no one would have ever found my body. I know you could have left me with those men. I know you risked everything to help someone who held you at gunpoint."
She steps closer, her body nearly touching mine. "I know that when you kiss me, your hands shake. Like you're afraid of breaking me."
"I am," I admit.
"You won't." She reaches for my hand and places it against her cheek. "You're not a monster, Walker. Monsters don't fear being monsters."
I want to believe her. God, I want to believe her.
"I've spent years alone," I say. "Punishing myself. Trying to disappear."
"I see you," she whispers, rising on her toes. "I see all of you. And I want what I see."
Her lips meet mine. The kiss is certain. She's choosing with her eyes wide open.
My hands find her waist and lift her gently. She wraps her legs around me as I carry her back to bed. I lay her down gently. Not because she’s fragile and I might break her. But because she’s the most precious thing in the world.
She pulls me down to her, her fingers tracing the scars on my back and the muscles underneath.When we met, we crashed into each other like a storm, but now we move together like the tide. Slow, inevitable.
“I want you," she breathes against my neck.
It feels like absolution. I don’t know if I deserve it but it doesn’t matter. She is everything, and that includes being my judge. I promise her all that I am, broken pieces and all.
I strip her of my shirt. She’s not wearing any panties.
The heat of her, the scent of her—both salty and sweet—fills my senses.
"Walker," she breathes my name like a prayer.
