Page 77 of North

His mouth tightened.

“Get mixed up with the wrong people, trust the wrong people. Make decisions that require you to…you know…save me.”

He glanced at her then, and her countenance had softened.

“The fact is, even though you’re dangerous…I feel safe with you.”

And that set heat into his bones. “You should, Selah. I would step in front of a bullet for you.”

“I pray you never have to do that.”

Him too, but…“This world is a dangerous place filled with dangerous people and, well, to quote Frank, the world needs dangerous gentlemen.”

“Who are⁠—”

“Men who are compassionate, who show mercy but aren’t afraid to go to battle for what’s right. To protect those in peril.” He glanced at her. “Or people who get in over their heads.”

“Okay, that’s it. Pull over,” RJ said from behind them. “We need gas, and you two are clearly not not talking about it.” She pointed to an exit ramp with a tall truck stop/gasoline marker rising from the trees.

North got off, then pulled into the station and up to the pump.

“You go walk my dog. And talk about illing-kay. I’ll pump gas.”

She got out the side door, leash and dog in hand, and North glanced at Selah.

She wrinkled her nose at him. “She’d make a better drill sergeant than a marriage counselor.” Then Selah reached for the door handle.

North took the dog’s leash from RJ, and he and Selah headed for a grassy area beside the lonely truck stop. The sun had barely fallen, the sky still bruised, the mountains dark around them. The faintest hint of the Milky Way scattered overhead. The wind reaped the piney scent of the nearby forest, the earthy grasses, washing away the odor of diesel.

“I’m sorry too,” he said as he let Vaughn sniff the grass, hunting for his special place.

“For saying the truth?” She had shoved her hands into her sweatshirt, walking quietly beside him. “I did everything you accused me of. And”—she looked up at him—“you saved my life.”

“I still wish you hadn’t seen…what I did.”

Vaughn stopped near a discarded bag of trash, sniffed it.

“Truth is, I don’t think about it a lot—not unless I have to recount something—but yes, Selah…” He met her eyes. “I’ve taken lives in combat. In sanctioned situations. And I don’t love the idea that I’ve ended a life. But every time, someone had a weapon pointed at someone I cared about or someone I should have cared about. Innocent people. And it wasn’t my decision alone—although, in the end, I own it.”

Her gaze didn’t move from his.

“I put it in the container that says ‘Do the hard thing for the sake of good.’ And yes, sometimes, especially back on the teams, it got a little murky. I can tell you that it’s crystal clear when some murderer is holding a machete above the head of the woman I love.”

She blinked, caught her lower lip. Nodded.

Vaughn, of course, picked right then to find his special place.

“I know that, North. I remember…everything. And once I got past it—as in, on the train to Washington—I could see it. I knew that I’d gotten you into that place⁠—”

“It wasn’t your fault. I would have been there at some point on the island, with that crew.”

“But I was the tipping point. It’s just that…you know, I’ve always been taught to love mercy.”

“And I’ve been taught to do justice.”

She wiped her hand across her cheek. He hadn’t realized she’d been crying.

“I think…the truth is, North, that I’ve been afraid⁠—”