Chapter 23
Nate
Four weeks. That’s all that separates me from home.
Every night, I cling to the only piece of her I have left—a stolen T-shirt that still carries traces of her scent.
It's fading now, and that terrifies me more than any mission ever could. Her perfume used to wrap around me like a shield, a promise that I wasn’t alone in this hellhole.
Now it's almost gone. Just like time. Just like luck.
Accidentally, I grabbed a thin, fancy hair tie she must’ve left entwined with the shirt. I keep it in my chest pocket, over my heart. Superstition? Maybe. But out here, you need something—anything—to hold on to.
I still don’t know what I did to deserve her love, but I swear to never take it for granted.
That’s why no one knows this yet, but this—this mission—is my last. I’m done.
After this, I'm leaving the army. It'll piss off my father, but I don’t care.
I want a life. With her. I want to travel, build a home, kiss her until she laughs, raise kids who have her stubborn fire and my stupid smile. I want love. I want peace. I want her.
Unless we finish early, in four weeks I’ll be out. And if we do wrap this mission sooner? Then hell yeah—I’ll surprise her. Take her on that honeymoon she keeps pretending she doesn’t dream about.
But first, we’ve got work to do.
CJ pulls the Humvee to a halt, and I shake off the daydreams I want to focus on rather than that fucking email. Focus, Weister. You're not home yet.
My boots hit the ground with a thud, and the dry wind slaps me in the face, gritty and hot. The rest of my unit fans out, forming the usual protective half-circle around me.
“All right, listen up,” I bark, voice clear and clipped. “Eyes open. Keep your backs covered. If we find the resource, we move fast and clean. We get in, we get out. That’s how we go home early.”
“Yes, sir,” they reply in unison, no hesitation.
We begin the sweep—every step calculated, every glance exchanged packed with silent communication. The terrain is unforgiving. Dry. Hot. Every shadow could be death.
When we locate the source, a local informant we’ve been trying to extract for weeks, I breathe a little easier. She’s alive. Unharmed.
“Alex, escort her to the vehicle. You’ve got a point,” I order, eyes sweeping the area for movement. “Everyone else, cover and fall back. Tight perimeter.”
“Copy that.”
We form a moving shield around her, CJ and I watching the rear. My hand tightens on my weapon as my instincts hum with tension.
Then CJ halts mid-step. His face is pale, a sheen of sweat coating his forehead, but he's trying to crack a grin like it’s just another Tuesday.
I look down and my stomach drops. Right at his feet: a pressure-activated mine.
“CJ, talk to me.”
His voice is tight. “I stepped off the path. Didn't realize.”
“Everyone move ahead. Now. Keep the source safe,” I shout. “Do not look back.”
“Weister—”
“That’s a fucking order.”
The rest of the team hesitates for a heartbeat before obeying, then it’s just me and CJ, standing alone in the silence, dust floating in the air like suspended danger.
“Okay, CJ, don’t panic. Don’t move,” I say, kneeling down carefully and crawling closer. My hand moves to my knife, prying the soil around the mine.
Please be old. Please be broken. Or just poorly made. Please.
I’ve seen these before. In training, there was a trick—they taught us how to delay detonation for just a few seconds. You needed something heavy, with a flat base, and a metal plate if you could find one. None of which I’ve got.
Unless...
My hand moves to my chest. The hair tie. Hers. My lucky charm.
“CJ,” I whisper, “do you trust me?”
“Always, brother.”
“I’ll be right back.” I start scanning the perimeter. “Wait for me here.”
“Seriously? Where the fuck do you think I’m going?”
“Right. Bad joke.” I smirk even as my heart races.
I sprint to a nearby blown-out shack, scanning the wreckage until I find a busted metal tray and some scattered screws. Not perfect, but it'll have to do. I race back, pulse pounding.
“You know... Isabel might need Cindy as a legal partner,” I say casually, setting everything down.
CJ frowns. “Are you really doing small talk now?”
“Humor me. It calms the nerves.”
“Fine. Cindy misses work, anyway.” He chuckles tightly.
“Perfect. They’d be badass together. You thinking of more kids?”
“If I make it out of here? Hell yeah.”
“You will.” I blow the dust off the mine’s housing. “We both will.”
“Bet you’re regretting letting me lead for once,” he mutters, voice rough, jaw clenched like he's holding in more than just pain.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I say, crouching beside him, eyes scanning the metal edges barely visible beneath his boot. “You’d have found a way to piss off a landmine even if I was leading.”
He huffs something that might be a laugh. “You always know how to make a guy feel safe.”
“Shut up and keep still,” I say, forcing calm into my voice. “You step off that thing wrong, they’ll be picking us both up with tweezers.”
I glance at the exposed pressure plate, mapping out every possibility in my head. We’ve done this before. Carefully. Slowly. Like defusing a bomb while it’s already counting down.
But it’s when my hands steady over the device that my brain chooses that moment to flash to the goddamn email.
Isabel.
Last night.
Photos. Words that felt like they came with a knife.
“Thought you should know what’s happening back home…”
Then her. Smiling at someone who wasn't me. His hand on her back like he had the right.
It was one of the bodyguards that sent them.
The betrayal slices sharper than any shrapnel. My pulse kicks. Breath shortens.
“Hey,” CJ says, looking down at me. “You good? You just spaced.”
“Fine,” I gritted, voice lower. Colder. “Focus.”
I can’t afford this. Not now. But the images cling like smoke.
We had a pact, Isabel and I. A marriage made of strategy and necessity, sealed with paperwork and fake smiles. We were supposed to walk away after I got back. Sign the divorce. Be done.
But we didn’t.
We confessed. We broke every rule we made. I told her things I don’t tell anyone—hell, even CJ doesn’t know half of it. And she said she loved me like it hurt to admit it.
So why the hell would she smile at someone else like that?
Why would she let someone touch her?
“Still with me, Nate?” CJ’s voice snaps me back.
“Yeah.” My voice is quieter this time, raw. “Just thinking.”
“Don’t.” His eyes meet mine. I didn't tell him a thing but he saw my reaction to that damn email. “The rest of it, whatever happened back home—you deal with later. Got it?”
I nod once. “Got it.”
He’s right. Isabel, the pictures, the betrayal—if it is betrayal—can wait. Right now, my best friend is sitting on top of death, and I’m the only thing standing between him and it.
But once we’re out of here?
I’m getting answers.
And God help the man in those photos if what I saw is real.
We talk while I work, and it’s not just for distraction. I want him grounded. Present. Human. Because fear makes people stupid. I need him clear-headed. “How did you meet her?”
“Izzy and I met on a plane,” I say. “Didn’t know it was her at first, but my heart knew. It always knew.”
“Damn. First love.”
“Yeah. This time, it stuck.”
CJ tries to laugh, but he’s shaking. So am I. I can’t afford a mistake.
“All right,” I say at last. “CJ, on my count, you're going to slowly shift your weight off the mine and run. Don’t look back.”
“Wait, what are you using as weight?”
I show him the hair tie. “This. It’s the only thing I trust more than myself right now.”
“Nathan, no. I’m not leaving you—”
“It’s a damn order, Lieutenant!”
Silence.
“Yes, sir.”
He bolts. And I move just as fast. The pressure holds.
One-thousandth, two-thousandths, three-thousandths, four-thousandths, five-thousandths. I throw myself to the ground while it explodes.
The shockwave slams into me like a freight train. Heat. Noise. Light. Pain. My ears ring. The ground drops away. The sky spins.
Then—darkness.
I hear CJ screaming. His voice is far away. Wet. Full of panic.
“Weister, open your eyes! You son of a bitch, open your eyes!”
I try.
Shapes blur. His face. Hands. Blood. Slapping me awake.
“You lucky bastard,” he says, voice breaking. “I gotta thank Isabel for this. She saved our ass.”
I try to smile. I want to. But the world’s slipping away again.
“I need two blood units, now! We gotta move, or he’s gone!”
Everything fades—sound, pain, fear. It all vanishes.