AllFreeNovel
Share Us
My mouth snaps shut.
Banks’ spine straightens like someone yanked an invisible string upwards. His breath releases and his eyes open, but he doesn’t lower the gun. “I’m sorry, Sarge.”
What happens next happens so fast I barely see it coming.
One second, I’m staring stupidly at the horrificness unfolding in front of me, the next Mylo plows into Banks, throwing him backwards.
The gun clatters to the floor by my feet. I skit away from it, into the corner on unsteady legs. “Police. I’m going to call the police.”
“No!” Mylo holds his hand out blindly in my direction, his whole weight on the now sobbing Banks, his forearm across his chest. “No police, Kenzi. I’ve got this. Just… go home.”
“Mylo, he had a gun.” I release a breath and take in the disaster that was my once perfect terrace. The table. The chairs. My ruined door. “Look what he di—”
“Go home, Kenzi, this has got nothing to do with you.” His barked order is like a slap in the face.
I shake my head. “But, Mylo—.”
“Just go!”
I flinch back.
“Please, just trust me, Kenzi.”
“I did trust you.” Chest hollow, I stare at him, my heart thumping, every doubt, every worry I’ve ever had about him—ussolidifying into one solid truth. He’s never going to let me in, not even when it directly affects me and everything I’ve worked for.
I won’t. Ican’tdo this anymore.
THIRTY-TWO
Mylo
How the fuck did everything go so wrong in one fucking night? I watch Kenzi go, purse clutched to her chest.
My gut twisting, I turn to where Banks is sitting against the door, the date and time he scrawled bright above him like a sick banner stating nothing but the truth. I failed him. And now I’ve failed Kenzi too. I’m fucking everything up.
The look on her face when she turned and walked into the restaurant. When she silently handed me the keys, her gaze darting over the fallout from my mess.My mess.The disappointment, the hurt. My throat contracts. This wasn’t supposed to happen. My past was never supposed to touch her.
Banks’ head is lowered, his forearms resting on his knees. Defeated. Broken. A physical representation of everything I am.
I hate it, but I’ll have to deal with Kenzi later.
First, I fix this. First, I man up enough to be there for the one person who knows the worst parts of me. Who knows my failures and brings every nightmare to the forefront of my mind.
“Banks.” I cough to clear the hoarseness from my voice and fight to keep the darkness at bay, the sticky blackness already seeping into my peripheral. The panic tightening the back of my neck. I blow out my cheeks and force myself not to look away from him, even though the visions—the memories are already clambering to gain purchase in my head. His screams as I pulled his leg from under what was left of the truck. The look in his eyes when his gaze fixed on what used to be one of our teammate’s faces.
He doesn’t look at me now, just stares at the floor between his feet.
I stand for a second trying to get my head in the game and out of the downward spiral it’s determined to fall into. The distant rolling waves and salty air manage to keep me there, in the moment and not back to that morning, to the fucked-up mess that’s gonna drag both of us under if I don’t figure out a way to help him. To help us both.
“I wasn’t…” he starts, still staring at the ground. “I wasn’t going to hurt her. I just…” His jaw tightens and he shakes his head. A jerky agitated movement, but his voice is exactly the way I remember it to be.
A soft southern drawl that takes me back, right back to the first day he strolled into my camp in Afghanistan, eighteen and greener than a kid on his first day of kindergarten. Ready to change the world. To fight for his country. His first deployment. His last one too.
I pull in tangy air through my nose and try not to think about how I’m the one that’s hurt her. Howmysecrets, andmypast lead to this. One thing at a time. I click my tongue off my teeth. The old me. The Marine in me sliding back into place like I was never anybody else, like the man I’ve become here was never anything but a figment of my imagination.
“The fuck were you thinking, kid?” I pull in a breath and focus on him.
He lifts his head slightly and fixes me with a stare from beneath his eyebrows, dark eyes cold with pain and defeat. “I Just want it to stop.”
