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“Holy fuck I needed that…”
“You sure did,” I laughed. “I… uh…”
“Need a towel?”
“Or a bathroom. Or a shower,” I laughed. “But I was also going to say something else, too.”
I turned to face him in the semi-darkness. Our little tent was warm and snug from the kerosene heater. Silent and secluded beneath a cold ocean of stars.
“I love you, Kyle.”
He shifted and pulled me closer, inching a single large blanket over both of our bodies. I could make out the shape of his face. The curve of his jaw, his nose, his mouth…
“I love you too, princess.”
I swallowed, but couldn’t get past the lump in my throat. He was perfect. Better than perfect.
“Can I get you something?” I asked. “Water, or another pillow, or—”
“Right now, I don’t need anything else in the world,” Kyle said sweetly. I could hear his voice getting sleepy as he leaned in to kiss me softly. “Only you.”
Thirty-Nine
SAMMARA
I woke alone in the darkness. Still caught in that confused half-slumber, where I wasn’t even sure where I was.
“And I’m saying just shoot me with two morphine ampules and let’s go. We’re wasting time.”
Kyle’s voice floated in from somewhere outside. And there were other voices too.
“You’re insane. And you’re not coming.”
“But—”
“Listen to him!” a third voice blurted. “He’s right. There’s no fucking way, you’d be nothing more than a huge liability.”
The details of the room came into soft focus. I was in a tent. A tent in Iraq…
Holy shit.
“I’m not asking for a babysitter,” Kyle’s voice countered angrily, “only a ride. No one needs to help me do jack shit. I’ll do everything on my—”
“And I said no!”
Dakota’s voice! And he sounded angry. I shook the sleep from my head as I rubbed my eyes. I’d heard Dakota upset before, but never actually shouting mad like this.
“—no broken bones,” Kyle was saying. “The shrapnel’s all gone. Everything’s fine, my leg is good—”
“And what happens when the wound opens up?” growled the third voice. I recognized it now as belonging to Markus Ladrone. “What happens when you rupture the artery again, and all hell’s raining down all around us? Do we let you just bleed out? Are we supposed to just leave you there to—”
“YES!”
It was still dark. Pitch black. But the noise around camp was growing louder now. I could hear the sounds of activity; shouting, movement, the barking of orders. Many people scrambling at once.
“Look, bro, it’s not gonna happen.”
Dakota’s voice dropped. I could visualize it all, even through the thick canvas tent. His hand on his friend’s shoulder. The look of helplessness in Kyle’s eyes as he realized the futility.
