Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 101501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
“How?” was all he said.
Reaching over I tugged up his sleeve until his Delta Force tattoo showed the words 28 NOV. “Josh saw your tattoo and searched the internet. I’m so sorry, Logan.”
He closed his eyes on the word sorry and dropped his head, breathing deeply through a shudder that wracked his body. “It’s my fault.” The words were spoken with resignation and anger. “I didn’t see the second bomber in time. I couldn’t save them.”
We were stopped in the middle of a snow-covered highway, but I didn’t care. We hadn’t seen another vehicle since we left town, so I unbuckled my seat belt and crawled across the cab until I was straddling his lap. Logan dropped his head back onto his seat and stared back at me with no emotion. He looked blank except for the twitching in his jaw, which said he was holding on, but only just.
I cupped his face with both my hands and rubbed my thumbs across the apple of his cheeks just like he’d done to me. “War is hell. Everyone says so. I don’t have a clue what you went through over there, but unless you put a bullet into your friends on purpose, then none of it was your fault. Evil wins sometimes, you know this. If the positions were reversed, would you blame Coop, Buster, or Loverboy for your death?”
His jaw tightened further. He wouldn’t blame them any more than they would blame him.
“Why do you think it’s your fault?”
“It was my job to protect my unit.” He clipped the word out through clenched teeth. “Not all soldiers look like me, Skye. Some weigh a hundred pounds wet, but their minds—” he tapped his temple “—their raw intellect is worth ten of me. Coop, Buster, and Loverboy were top of their classes. Were recruited ‘cause of the way their minds worked. They were the strategists, and I was the muscle. The one who kept them safe while they executed their mission. I had one job and I failed them.”
Lowering my head to his, I simply said, “Okay.” Nothing I said would change his mind. In his opinion, he’d failed his mission. He would carry that burden and belief the rest of his life. All I could do was support him, show compassion and understanding, while he dealt with the aftermath. “Just know I’m here when you’re ready to talk about them. About any of it.”
Logan buried his face in my neck and held on for a moment, then pulled back and kissed my nose before lifting me from his lap and depositing me back in my seat. He didn’t put the truck back into drive until I’d buckled my seat belt.
Once we were underway, I reached for the radio to lighten the mood. Before turning it on, I asked Logan, “Pop. Rock. Rap. Or country?”
“You turn on pop, and I’ll tan your hide.”
With a grin, I turned the dial to the local pop station and cranked up the volume. I raised one brow in challenge when his eyes shot to mine, watched with satisfaction as a slow grin pulled across his mouth, and the demons he carried melted into the back of his memory.
_______________
The police were waiting when Logan pulled his truck alongside Duke’s rig. He’d called before leaving Ennis, to let them know he’d been assigned as the temporary chief of police and he’d be there in a few hours. Law enforcement, like the military, was a brotherhood. The fact Duke Remington was from a different state meant little to the park police. All they cared about was one of their own was missing in their territory.
Logan noted search and rescue was on scene and in the water, their searchlights illuminating the inky gloom. The snow had brought in the wind, hampering visibility to a few feet. If Duke was in the water waiting to be rescued, they wouldn’t see him until they were right on top of him.
Turning to Skylar before opening his door, Logan ordered her to stay in the truck while he checked with the officer in charge. He assumed she would listen, but found Skylar rounding the front of his truck, headed for Duke’s, when he slammed his door behind him. The steel he’d seen the first time they met was back in force. Her friend was missing, and she wasn’t about to sit in a warm vehicle while he might be dying from exposure.
He let her go and turned his attention to the officer approaching. He was mid-forties with salt-and-pepper hair. And angry if the sneer crossing his mouth was any indicator.
“You Storm?” the man bit out.
He didn’t bother to put out his hand for Logan to shake, so Logan ignored the rules of engagement in the civilized world. “I’m Storm.”
The man didn’t beat around the bush. “Got a hellava storm brewing here and they send me some wet behind the ears, newly appointed pencil pusher to sort it out. You wanna be on scene, I can’t stop you, but stay the hell out of my way. I’ve got a fellow officer missing.”