Chapter 37 #2
I push the hair from her face, then bend and kiss first one eyelid, then the other. I kiss the tip of her cute little nose, her lips. She parts them, and I slide my tongue inside, then stop when she stirs.
I don’t want to wake her. She deserves to rest. She must be tired.
I take full credit for her orgasms. I allow myself a small smile.
I wore her out, and her muscles are so relaxed, she’s almost comatose.
It’s been a long day, and no doubt, her emotions have been all over the place.
I draw back slowly and wait until she settles, and her breathing deepens.
I rise up and step out of the tub, holding her in my arms. I manage to dry her and bring her to bed, where I tuck her under the covers.
Then I deposit the tray of food back in the kitchen and do a quick sweep of the house to make sure all the doors and windows are locked, and the security system is active.
Not something I’ve done before, but with the most precious thing in the world under my roof, I want to make sure everything is secured.
By the time I crawl into bed with her and pull her into my chest, I’ve already missed being with her, and we were apart for less than ten minutes.
She’s becoming a necessity, an addiction. One that’s settled deep into my skin and bones and become a part of me in the way no one else has. All signs that I’m in love with my wife. She has the power to hurt me more than anyone else on this earth.
Something I’ll worry about later.
For now, I’m going to enjoy the curve of her butt, the contour of her waist, the honeyed softness of her skin, the rose-tinged scent of her shampoo, combined with the familiar scent of my soap that smells different on her.
She smells like mine, and I know I’m fucked.
There’s no escaping the fact that I’ve made myself vulnerable to her.
When Felix’s mother left, I swore I’d never allow anyone else into my life.
Yes, I was at fault for what happened with her.
And no, I hadn’t loved her, but it didn’t make the aftermath any easier to bear.
It pushed me to bury myself deeper in my career.
I was confident I’d never let myself be that vulnerable again.
Yet, here I am, in love with a woman less than half my age.
A woman who’s my wife. Who I’m wedded to and have no plans of letting go.
But what if she grows tired of me?
If she leaves me too, what then?
She won’t. I’ll make sure of that. I close my eyes and drift off.
I’m back in a familiar nightmare. I know I’m dreaming but I'm unable to snap out of it. I’m back in that office on the warship off the coast of Russia that doubled up as our headquarters.
I’m the commanding officer in charge of a secret mission to exterminate the insurgents who pose a serious threat to our country.
The drones over the hideout of the enemy beam pictures to our screens.
I’m watching the scene unfold on screen, but there’s tense silence around me.
I've realized that the intel we received is faulty. Our team is on the scene—where they shouldn’t be. But so are the enemies to our country.
If I don’t call the strike, they’ll go through with the plan to detonate the bomb in central London, causing one of the most horrific terrorist incidents in the modern history of the city.
If I do—we’ll lose all four team members.
They should not have been anywhere near there, but the information was tainted.
They're also outnumbered. There’s at least fifty hostiles spread across that square mile. If our team doesn’t die from our missile attack, they're going to be hunted down by the enemy and meet a far more horrific end.
One way or the other, they’re not coming out of this alive.
Experience tells me that. And if I don’t take out the enemy soldiers, many more people will be injured.
The operator manning the controls grips the edge of the table with white knuckles. He’s sweating, despite the air-conditioning in the space. There’s silence in the room.
On screen, the sunlight is blinding. The buildings sprawled across the complex seem to be uninhabited, but the drones picking up the body heat of those inside indicate otherwise.
Then a figure emerges from the door. The drone zooms in on him, and the picture reveals he has a portable missile launcher over his shoulder. Fuck.
The Fire Control Operator in charge of deploying the missile swears. “You can’t do this.”
He’s the one person on my team who challenges my command.
As if I need to be reminded of what’s at stake?
If I don’t follow through, I’ll have failed in my duty to my country and to my monarch and to my fellow citizens.
I’ll have failed to protect them. And if I do...
I’ll have hurt my own family, irreparably.
It’s likely Ryot will never forgive me for this.
The sweat pools in my armpits. My chest tightens. My entire career has led up to this moment. I call upon all of my military experience to help me make the judgement call. I know what I have to do. I push all of my doubts and feelings into a box and bury it in the deepest part of my soul.
“Stand by to engage on my command,” I growl.
The tension in the room spikes. The rest of my team is motionless, their eyes riveted to the screen.
The scent of sweat and stress, a pungent mix of body odor and something more acidic, deepens.
It’s the scent of oncoming tragedy. I can taste it on my tongue, feel the electricity in the air. The hair on the back of my neck rises.
“Fire,” I bark.
The operator hesitates. This has never happened before. He has never questioned my command. This situation has divided my team. It’s going to tear my unit—my family away from home—apart. My heart sinks.
Then with a herculean effort I shove my grief into the same box as my other feelings.
When I speak, my voice is calm, "That’s an order, Marine."
There’s an edge of authority to my tone that demands action. It cuts through the heaviness in the space. The operator presses the button. The missiles fire. My heart stops then starts up again. Thump-thump-thump, the blood booms in my ears.
There’s a delay of a few seconds.
Then the buildings blow up, as does our drone.
The picture cuts out.
The operator jumps to his feet; he turns to me. "You took out our own." His eyes blaze, but underneath it is the same sorrow that I tucked away.
"Collateral damage." I keep my voice casual, but my heart squeezes in my chest.
My mind, though, is absolutely clear. I followed the rules to the letter. I did the right thing.
The operator advances on me, an ugly expression twisting his features. His face morphs until he looks like Ryot, who then raises his fist and smashes it into my face. I rear back.
I’m dreaming. I’m still dreaming.