That’s never been my mentality when it came to her. She was always the person I’d confide everything in, because I knew that she’d make it better. She’d understand.
But I’ll add this to the list of things I already have to keep from her. There’s no way I’d ever tell her what I’ve seen over these last few months. What I’ve had to do. The damage I’ve done. She’d be disgusted if she could see the man I’ve become, and for what? Because I was trying to be someone. Trying to become a better version of myself. I thought joining the military would save me, would give me direction, and for guys like Collins, it does. But for me? All I feel is more fucked up than ever.
“I definitely don’t love this,” I tell him, referencing his earlier comment.
It takes him a minute to remember what we were talking about, but he nods. “I can tell.”
He’s quiet for another moment before adding, “That doesn’t make you a bad guy, Lukas. Doesn’t make you a bad Marine, or man, or whatever.”
Lukas. He never calls me Lukas. That friendly touch has my throat tingling, and I purse my lips, working them back and forth to tamp down the emotion.
“Just gotta make it through this deployment, then hopefully a calm year or so on base, then you can be done. Get home to your girl. Work on the farm, whatever it is you want to do.”
I chuckle at that. I hated that the farm was the only thing going for me. I didn't want to be like my family, like my brother Grayson, focused on the land and animals, being at the mercy of the weather. It never felt like it was enough. Some part of me always pushed for more, and now that I have more, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than on that farm, driving a tractor into the sunset. Dinner with my family around. Now, I can see it wasn’t the environment I was in that was restless, it was me.
“Let’s try to get some sleep, yeah?” He claps me on the shoulder, and I nod, tossing what's left of my cigarette into the dirt, crushing it with the sole of my shoe.
Collins is two steps ahead of me by the time I catch up. Shoulder to shoulder, we walk in stride back to our hideout. “Thanks,” I mutter, not sure if I’m referencing the walk, the cigarette, or his words.
But with him, I don’t need to explain. He just nods, one exaggerated nod to let me know he heard me. “You’ll make it, Hart. I have a good feeling about that.”
CHAPTER 24
Lukas
The humvee races along the dirt road. Dust flies up, and flecks of sand pepper the side windows as the wheels roll on through enemy territory. Brutus lets out a wet burp, and I grimace. Leave it to Collins to win a game of rock-paper-scissors, leaving me to ride with Brutus, Staff Sergeant Winters, and our overpacked gear while he gets the spacious back seat of the other humvee.
We’re third in line, Collins one ahead of us. All speeding toward our destination, eyes peeled at the horizon. My pulse jumps at every stone, every scraggly bush, at every fleck of gravel that hits us from underneath. Trash litters the road out here. Everywhere we go, we’re driving over boxes, plastic bottles, each discarded piece of garbage swirling under our tires as we fly by.
Brutus twists toward the back seat to catch my eye, cracking a near toothless smile when he does. I chuckle a little, always surprised that no matter how exhausted we are, no matter how tense the situation is or what battle we’re about to head into, that fucker always has a smile on his face. “You know, Brutus, I give you shit, but you aren’t half ba?—”
My words are cut off by a sudden, overwhelming explosion.
My face flies forward, just in time to see the first humvee in our convoy burst into a fiery blaze. The vehicle is flipped sideways and thrown to the side of the road, nothing but a heap of flames and carnage by the time it crashes.
“Fuck!” Staff Sergeant Winters screams as his hands fly to the front dash. Brutus whips the steering wheel to the side, driving us off the road and through the ditch, trying to avoid the treacherous path ahead of us. It all happens so fast, yet so slow. In one moment, I’m watching the side of his face as he screams, and in the next, my eyes flip back to the humvee in front of us, the one carrying Collins.
“Stop,” I whisper, but it’s no use. The second humvee explodes along with the first, and it’s flipped up in the air, twisting up around like a kite in the wind as it heads right toward us. The shockwave sounds; ripples of glass and metal and debris rain down over us.
I close my eyes, and my mind flashes to Mags.
To the way she looked lying on the beaches in France when I went to visit her after boot camp. To her smile and the playful twist of her lips when she’s teasing me. To the way she looks when she’s underneath me, when I can hear and feel every soft moan that comes from her mouth.
I love you, baby. I’m sorry.
I grit my teeth and bear down, expecting the worst to come. Their humvee crashes right in front of us, metal scraping against metal as we smash into it. My body is thrown forward, out of the seat and my head bashes against the window. Smoke fills the cab. Hot flames are crackling outside. Another explosion sounds to the side, or maybe it’s behind us.
There’s a flash of light so bright I grimace. Another high-pitched ringing sounds, one so powerful my teeth ache.
And then … silence.
Of all the ways I imagined my life ending, this isn’t one that ever came to mind.
The next time I open my eyes, there might be a bright light waiting for me. I’d follow that light, and when I arrived at the gates of heaven, I’d see my parents’ house in Copper Ridge. It’d be summertime, and I’m lying in my childhood bedroom with Magnolia curled up next to me as she sleeps. I can hear my family downstairs, laughing. A soft summer breeze filters through the window screen. If I breathe in deep enough, I swear I can smell the fresh cut hay.
Funny how a place that I once felt trapped in is now my version of heaven.
The haze starts to clear. Specks of light fill the vehicle as the sunlight seeps in through the slits in the metal where the shrapnel ripped through us like butter.
