Chapter Twenty
Mags
Years Ago. Unknown Location.
“You know what?” Grayson, aka Bullet, rumbled from beside me.
I’d been sitting in this same position for the last six hours, my feet having gone numb three hours ago. I didn’t move my head, keeping my gun pointed at the window, my eye in the scope.
“What’s that, Bullet?” I asked, my voice low, trying not to wake the rest our our squadron.
“Someday, we’re going to be happy.”
My neck got tight, and it took everything in me not to look at him. “Who says we’re not happy?”
“Getting my face sliced open gave me a bit of perspective,” he said coolly, as if that wasn’t one of the worst days of both of our lives. Grayson wasn’t supposed to be here with me. He was supposed to be out, honorably discharged, starting the life he’d always wanted back home. Instead, he fought to come back here, telling our commanding officers the job wasn’t done, and truly, it wasn’t.
Now, the leader of the terrorist group who kidnapped him was within our reach, and I was going to be the one to send him straight to hell.
“Be happy when we get this fucker,” I muttered.
“And what about Ashley?” he prodded.
“What about her?”
He was quiet for a moment, the moon high above us now. “Does she make you happy?”
My mind drifted to my wife, knowing that, some day, when my head was no longer plagued by the shit I’d seen over here, we could be happy. Maybe. She was beautiful, kind, smart. She told me she loved me when I was home last, and I believed her.
I wanted to love her again, but the distance, the tours, put a rift between us and with each passing day, it got deeper. It had been months since I’d gotten a letter from her, and I knew that could easily be due to the baby.
When I called—which wasn’t often—she answered. She gave me updates, told me the baby was healthy, that she was getting the nursery ready. Then, the conversation would grow silent, and all at once, we were strangers again. My unborn child in her belly was the only thing holding us together, and I didn’t know how to change it. I wanted to be the one to hold us together. I wanted to love my wife again, but there was something, deep inside, pulling my heart away from hers.
Truth be told, I didn’t think I had a heart anymore, but damn it all to hell, I wanted to feel something other than rage and fear.
“Mags?” Bullet called.
I moved an inch, adjusting my arm as my finger rested on curve of the trigger. Through my scope, the target was finally emerging from his home, draped in nothing but black, trying to blend in with the night. I aimed at his head, pulled the trigger, and watched as the bullet went through his head, reaping his soul. When he dropped to the ground, I pulled back, rolled my neck, and looked to my friend.
“I think we can be happy,” I rumbled. “It will take some work, but I want to be happy.”
Something shifted in my friend’s eyes and he murmured, “I hope you find it, brother. I really do.”
“Wake the team. It’s time to move.”
Onto the next mission.
Onto the next target.
More ammo.
More shell shock.
More blood.
More death.
It was all the same.
A constant routine of tainting my soul for the love of my country.
Days or weeks later, who knew, my unit and I were under attack, taking heavy fire from behind enemy lines.
“Guess they’re still a little pissed about you killing their boss, eh?” Chip deadpanned from beside me.
“You think?” I quipped, shoving a new magazine into my gun, reloading.
We’d been trapped here for days, and slowly, they’d been picking apart the squadron. There were only a few of a us now. I’d been begging for air support, but we never got it. Our backs were against a large boulder, Bullet just a few hundred feet away, crunched down behind the Humvee, shooting at the fuckers shooting at us. Above us, the sky was bright blue, not a cloud in sight as gunshots rang out, grenades going off two clicks away, the smoke and flames rising up members of my team screamed for mercy.
Fuck.
Fuck.
I closed my eyes, clenching my jaw.
“Joe, Pickings, and Rogers are dead!” Bullet shouted at us, pulling his gun back to reload. “We have to get out of here!”
I looked over to my friend again, the sad truth weighing down on me.
We weren’t getting out of this.
There was no way in hell, not without the air support we needed.
But I wasn’t going down as a coward. I, along with Chip and Bullet, would go down fighting.
“Bullet is right,” Chip yelled over the gunfire hitting the other side of the boulder, pieces of it flying onto our helmets. “We gotta get the fuck out of here.”
“Agreed. I—”
Another wave of heavy gunfire fell over Chip and me.
Instinctively, I grabbed his shoulder, pulling him further down as I looked over to Bullet, who was moving to the back to the Humvee, firing back. I lifted my gun over my head, firing blindly as Chip stayed down. I was too busy shooting to feel his blood soaking into my uniform.
When the gunfire stopped, my eyes shot over to Grayson, relief hitting me to see him alive. “Alright, Chip,” I grunted, sitting up. “Let’s mo—” I bent my head, seeing Chip’s body roll off my legs, landing in the sand with a quiet thud.
“Chip?” I called, hooking the strap of my gun over my head, swinging it around to my back before clawing my way to him. “Anthony!”
Nothing. I grabbed his shoulder, rolling him back to me.
My stomach sank, my breath halting.
Anthony “Chip” McGee was dead. Half of his face was gone. Blood oozing from his chest, shoulder, head, and neck. I put my hand over his heart and bent my head.
Fuck.
Fucking fuck.
He had a wife and two young boys at home. Without delay, I pulled off his tags and stuffed them in my pocket.
“MAGS!”
My head snapped up, finding Grayson running towards me, waving his hands.
Then, all I felt was heat.
All-consuming heat.
My ears rang as flames appeared around me, and then, everything went black.
Present Day. Hallow Ranch.
I stepped out onto the porch, finding Kings leaning over the railing, hat tipped back as he studied the moon. I said nothing, staring at his back and waiting.
“Mags, you’ve been with me a long time,” he stated, not moving an inch.
“Why are you here, Kings? You should be in bed with your wife,” I stated, my voice neutral despite the emotions coursing through me, tightening my muscles, poisoning my bloodstream. Before he’d pounded on my fuckin’ door, Diana had seen the one thing I never let anyone see.
My burn.
Even when I was in the bunkhouse, I made sure no one saw me shirtless.
Now, that was all about to change.
“I’m here to make sure two people I care about don’t make a mistake,” Kings said, turning to face me, his arms folded over his chest. “I’m here to make sure this family sticks together.”
I stiffened. “A mistake?”
His gray eyes flashed. “What would you call it?” he challenged.
“Nothing,” I damn near growled. “I would call it nothing.”
“I’ll break your fucking jaw, you lie to me again, Mags,” he threatened darkly.
I opened my mouth to speak, but he beat me to it.
“My mother had miscarriages,” he began. “When I was old enough, she would tell me Mase wasn’t my only sibling, that I had brothers and sisters in heaven waiting to meet us.” He paused, leaning back against the railing and crossing his boots. “I’d always wanted a sister, mainly because Mase was such a pain in my fuckin’ ass. I thought a sister would be less of a hassle.”
“Where are you going with this?” I asked, leaning against my door.
My friend looked up at me, the anger fleeing from his gaze. “Diana is the sister I never had, Mags.”
I flinched.
“You’re also like a brother to me,” he continued. “It may have taken a while, but I finally got to know you and a small fraction of the demons you carry.”
“You don’t think I’m good enough for her,” I guessed, my voice cold.
He shook his head. “Never said that.”
“Your actions damn well did,” I snapped. “Showing up here in the middle of the fuckin’ night to check on us, calling me outside for this ‘don’t hurt her’ lecture.”
“Mags—”
“I would die before cause her more pain,” I clipped.
His brows furrowed. “More pain?”
“Go home, Langston.”
“This is my home, Mags,” he countered, uncrossing his arms and bracing his hands on the railing.
I took two steps forward. “Then get the fuck out of my face.”
“Mags—"
“You know nothing about Diana and me,” I cut him off. “You, along with everyone else on this ranch, have no fuckin’ idea of the agony tethering us together.”
The air between us shifted then, the tension leaving.
“Agony?” he parroted softly.
He had no idea. He’d never even had a taste of the agony—the longing—I felt for her. He’d longed for Valerie, sure, but his months would never compare to my years. I gave him nothing as I walked to the porch steps and jerked my chin. “Get gone, Kings.”
He was staring at me now, his chest moving slowly as realization washed over him. I watched, gut tight, chest aching, I watched as the rest of his anger, judgment, and worry disappeared, softening his features as understanding replaced all three. “You’re in love with her.”
It was time to shut this down. “Not doing this with you, not after the day I’ve had.”
“Brother—”
I cut him off swiftly. “You tried to control Abbie and Beau’s shit, but I’ll be damned if I let you try and do that to Diana and me.”
“I did what I thought was right for Beau,” he explained, his voice low as he pointed at me. “And you fuckin’ know it. Abbie hurt him—destroyed him. I was trying to prevent that from happening again.” He shook his head, looking into the night and pulling off his hat with a sigh. “Once I knew the truth, I realized my mistake and rectified it.”
I clenched my jaw.
After a few moments, he looked back at me, his hat by his side. “You just said you hurt Diana.”
“I did.”
I didn’t miss his slight jerk. Any other person might’ve, but not me. His next question came out slowly, carefully. “Am I going to have to break your jaw, Mags?”
We both knew he’d only get one punch in before I ended up breaking his. Kings and his brother may have two inches on me, but that was it.
All that aside, he was here, seeking truth.
Even though he pissed me off, coming here at this hour, I knew he was doing it for Diana. Kings was a protector before he was cowboy, the kind of man to go down protecting the people he loved. He was just doing the only thing he knew how to do.
I respected that. I respected him.
Therefore, I gave him the truth. “I rejected her.”
“What?” he asked in disbelief. “You—you rejected her?”
“Affirmative.”
“Why?”
I cut my gaze from his, staring out into the night as I pulled out a pack of cigarettes—my last one. My eyes never left the pale moon as I plucked one out, put it in my mouth, pocketed the box, grabbed my lighter, and lit up. The soft crackling of the embers soothed me almost instantly, the smell of it intoxicating. Kings kept his eyes on me, waiting in a stunned silence I inhaled deeply, the familiar sting of smoke shooting down my throat, slowly killing my lungs. I held it for three seconds before slowly releasing it out through my nose, the smoke hovering as I finally looked back over to him.
“Thought you quit smoking,” he deadpanned, his brow furrowed.
I took a drag. “If we’re going to have this conversation, I’m having a damn cigarette, Kings.”
He looked me up and down, confusion in his eyes. “Why the fuck did you reject her?”
Another drag.
When I didn’t answer, a muscle in his cheek jumped. “Why did you reject a woman like Diana, Mags?”
With the cig hanging from my lips, smoking hovering, I confessed, “Because she’s everything I dreamed of.”
Another drag.
“Everything I don’t deserve,” I continued, smoking billowing from my lips.
Another drag.
“Everything I crave.”
“Mags—”
Shaking my head, I pulled the cig from my mouth, giving him a sad smile. “Love her, Den. Love her with everything I have, which isn’t much.”
“How long?” he asked.
I ignored him. “Diana’s a good woman.”
“She is,” he confirmed.
A beat of silence passed. “I’m not a good man, Kings. You and I both know that.”
Then, my friend rocked me to my core.
“Sometimes a good woman doesn’t need a good man, Mags. Sometimes, a woman like that, needs a man like you, a man who isn’t afraid to cross lines, who isn’t afraid to break the rules, who would lay down his life for her.” He paused. “Sometimes, good women don’t need good men. They just need a cowboy with a tainted soul.”
I stiffened.
“You’d die for her?”
“In a heartbeat.”
He nodded, inhaling through his nose. “You’d kill for her?”
“In a heartbeat,” I repeated.
“My wife is a good woman,” he noted.
I put out the cig and dropped the butt onto the porch.
He didn’t let up. “Harmony is a good woman.”
My chest began to ache.
“Abbie is a good woman.”
“Kings—”
“Don’t sit here and tell me you don’t deserve her because of the man you had to become in a war zone,” he cut me off softly. “Don’t try to convince me you don’t deserve her, brother, because you do.”
“Got demons,” I muttered.
“Mags, I had a PTSD episode with Valerie, and you had to intervene,” he argued. “Did I not deserve her because of those demons?”
Fuck me. “That was different.”
He nodded. “You’re right—it was different. Because it was me and not you. You told me not to be ashamed of fighting demons. You remember that?”
Breaking our gaze, I went to the porch railing, leaning my forearms against it, staring out into the field in front of my cabin. “I remember,” I said gruffly.
“So why are you not holding yourself to that same standard?” he asked, coming to stand beside me, mirroring my position, staring at my profile.
I felt it then, the burning, the pain. My voice was low, barely audible. “She saw my burn tonight.”
Kings, being Kings, didn’t even give the words a chance to hang in the air. “Your injuries, your flaws, and your trauma has nothing to do with your worth.”
God dammit.
Damn all of it.
I dropped my head. “She deserves perfection, Kings.”
“I’m certain she’s already found it in you, brother,” he said softly.
His words rang in my ears, like the aftershock of a bomb.
She’s already found it in you.
She’s already found it in you.
She’s already found it in you.
She’s already found it in you.
“Perfection isn’t linear,” he continued, as if he hadn’t just pierced the depths of my fucked-up soul. “Perfection is different for everyone.”
She’s already found it in you.
She’s already found it in you.
She’s already found it in you.
She’s already found it in you.
“I’m more pissed I missed it,” he muttered.
“Missed what?” I pushed out, my eyes on the ground.
“The way she looks at you.”
My jaw tightened.
“The way you look at her.”
“Stop,” I pleaded, knowing our future.
She was leaving.
She was leaving Colorado to chase a new dream. I’d overheard her conversation with Thomas this afternoon. I’d gone back into the house to check on her, coming to a cold stop outside her door as he gave her the news. All of it, from my confession to this current conversation was all for nothing.
She’s already found it in you.
She’s already found it in you.
She’s already found it in you.
She’s already found it in you.
“You love her, Mags.”
“Yes.”
“She loves you.”
I closed my eyes. “Yes.”
“How long?” he asked.
“From the moment I laid eyes on her,” I whispered, remembering the day. It was the best day of my life. “Came here to find peace, Kings. Came here to heal.” My friend said nothing. “I haven’t done either of those things, because all I can focus on is her. When she’s here, she’s all I see, and when she’s not, I can’t breathe.”
“Jesus.”
“Loved her for so long, Den. She’s not only in my heart, but in my blood, my bones. Hell, before you arrived, I was about to make the fatal mistake of letting her into my soul.”
“Fatal?” he questioned, his voice hard now. “What the fuck are you saying?”
I shot up, turning on him with a snarl. “She’s fuckin’ leaving,” I clipped.
He hadn’t moved, not even an inch, still staring out into the night. “Do you want her in your soul?”
A lump formed in my throat. I knew the power of her little light, the change it would bring. “Doesn’t matter.”
The cowboy moved then, rising to his full height slowly as he put his hat back on. “Of course, it fuckin’ matters, Mags.” His gray eyes met mine. “You’re a cowboy in love. When a cowboy falls in love, his path is altered. Suddenly, it’s not about the lifestyle, the pride, or the freedom. It’s about her.”
Fuck.
Fucking fuck.
“It will always be about her,” he stressed. “Yeah, she’s leaving. She got the position at Yale. It’s something she’s wanted for a while.”
My gut twisted. Still, I remained quiet.
He looked to the door and then back to me. “You want her to stay? You want her in your soul? Make her stay, Mags. Fight for it.” He moved to the porch steps then, giving me one more look. “You both deserve the love you’re too afraid to give each other. I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner; maybe if I had, I might’ve been able to pull both of your heads out of your asses.”
Then, he was gone.
You both deserve the love you’re too afraid to give each other.
She’s already found it in you.