Somehow those words feel empty.
“We could try to pull it up with the winch. No telling how far it dropped, though. No telling if it’s drivable.”
“And your ATV?”
I nod once. “Want to leave now?” I instantly regret the question.
She steps closer, eyes narrowing. “I don’t want to leave until I know, Rhys.”
Not Sergeant Rhys Ward. Not Ward.
It’s too intimate. I want to hear it again.
“You have to tell me what you want,” I say, unsure of where this is headed now. “Leave or stay?”
“Truth.”
There’s the real problem.
I laugh, turning away and pacing. Then, I stop at the hearth, adding a few more logs.
“You say that’s what you want. But you don’t.”
I turn back around, staring at her long and hard. “Phoenix…” I pause, searching for words, “…died a hero. Like all my men that day. They were unbreakable despite everything. It was me. I was the problem.”
“What happened?” she asks, stepping even closer. Close enough to smell her perfume, something fruity, something sweet. Like cherry coke, only more expensive.
“I miscalculated something. I trusted what I shouldn’t have. Didn’t see the signs, followed my gut until it was too late. I’m sorry, Sloane.”
And then I wheel back around and head for the door to chop wood.
“Wait, where are you going? I’m making breakfast.”
I hesitate at the door but don’t look back.
“I’ll be back around.”
Chapter
Ten
SLOANE
Aplate stacked high with pancakes cools next to the camping cook stove. Two mugs of coffee steam, swirling with the powdered cream I bought.
I can’t explain why I did this. Cooked for this man.
I can say it’s to gain his trust. To break down his walls, get him talking.
And that’s what I will say later.
The official narrative.
But I can feel something more behind it, in the hollow that’s lodged in my chest.
Rhys Ward.
He’s supposed to be the villain. He isn’t supposed to remind me of my brother, or other veterans. He isn’t supposed to make me feel things I shouldn’t.
