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“We were on patrol in Kabul, preparing to reopen the American Embassy. Most of the people welcomed us, but there were a few who’d banded together to lead a resistance. Mainly supporters of the 9/11 attacks. The previous weeks, we’d been in firefights and such as the invasion started. They’d told us not to think of those people like we’d think of people back home. They’d driven out the Soviets twelve years earlier. If we weren’t vigilant, they’d drive us out too. Kids were often used to carry explosives or to get close to soldiers to kill them, and I’d seen the truth of that firsthand.”
I continued to wash Winter. I found the motions oddly soothing as I told my story. She seemed focused entirely on my words. She wasn’t cringing away from my touch or the water. In fact, her hands rested lightly on my chest. I rubbed her skin lightly, but mostly I just let the suds slide down her body. I didn’t want her focusing too much on my movements. Not this first time. Once she realized she could do this, I’d repeat it. Was looking forward to it.
“The only problem we had was some of the kids trying to loot. Even that wasn’t a huge problem. They were just curious, like kids will be.” I sighed. This was harder than I thought it would be. She already knew the outcome. The details shouldn’t be that difficult. “There was one group of kids. They were more aggressive than most. I’d chased them off twice that same day only to have them return. The last time, one of them set off some firecrackers. That got every last Marine in the compound to sit up and take notice. It took a second to realize it wasn’t rifle fire. The sound is distinct, but some of us were still pretty wet behind the ears.
“I caught sight of the little punk and gave chase. Naturally he ran, me yelling after him not to run. I chased him into the city, one of my buddies not far behind me. When we reached a dead end, he stopped. I told him to keep his hands where I could see them, but I said it in English. That was one thing I never respected up to that point. Most of the people there didn’t speak English. Those who did spoke it brokenly and understood it about as well.
“He turned around and put his hand inside his pocket. He started to pull it out, and all I saw was the flash of something shiny. I pulled the trigger on my rifle, and the kid jerked, then crumpled to the ground. The second he did, the object he had in his hand rolled from his palm to the sandy ground. It was a stapler he’d stolen from one of the boxes going into the offices. A fuckin’ stapler!”
“Oh, my God!” Winter looked up at me with horror in her face. “I’m so sorry, Roman.”
“Don’t be sorry for me. I killed a teenager.”
“Roman, the circumstances were awful. And you’d been taught not to think of them as kids. Right?” She closed her eyes, rubbing her cheek against my chest. “I get it. I get why you shot. If that person had pulled out a gun --”
“But he didn’t, Winter. He was just a kid. I realize sometimes sixteen isn’t a kid anymore, but it doesn’t take away the fact that I pulled the trigger. My buddy tried to get me to tell our superiors he had a gun, but I wasn’t about to do that. I’d done it. I’d killed an unarmed civilian.”
I stopped washing her, tossing the washcloth to the bench along the back wall of the shower and just pulled her into my arms before I realized what I was doing. Surprisingly, she didn’t flinch. She even slipped her arms around my neck and held me too.
“My old man was a bastard. He fucked up all the damned time. Lost his job, the boss didn’t like him. Overdrew the checking account, the bank made an error and fucked him out of the overdraft fee. Didn’t pay the house payment, Mom bought too much needless shit. Nothing was ever his fault. He never took responsibility for anything in his life. I swore to myself I’d never be like that. So when I made my report, I told it exactly like it happened.
“My CO tried to take my words out of context, to get me to word it like the kid had been brandishing a weapon earlier that day or that I’d seen him with a weapon as he ran and he must’ve ditched it while I chased him. I clarified everything. I just… shot. I saw the glint of metal when he’d pulled that damned stapler from his pocket, and I reacted.
“In the end, I got reassigned back to Quantico -- mostly because I wouldn’t let it drop. My CO told me I was being ridiculous, but also that he respected me for taking responsibility for my actions.”
“What makes you think this will make me see you differently? I can’t judge you for something that happened during war when I’ve never been there. Besides, it sounds like you had every reason to suspect that person had a gun. I think you’re lying to yourself because you are actually a person with a strong sense of morals. But you can’t beat yourself up over something like that.”
If I hadn’t loved the woman before, I knew I loved her now. She was right. My CO was right. It was just hard to forgive myself.
“You’re a remarkable person, Winter. I’m lucky to have you with me.”
She jerked back then, not out of my arms but to look up at me. “You? Roman, there is no man alive who would say that about me. If you look up high maintenance in the dictionary, my picture will be there! I don’t know of anyone else who would put up with this. I mean, you’ve been with me a few weeks and we’ve only just now started moving in a sexual direction. And I have all these scars --”
I silenced her with a kiss. I did my best to keep it light while still letting her know she needed to shut up with that shit. When I pulled back, I framed her face with my hands, forcing her to keep her gaze on me. “You are not your scars, Winter. And those scars brought you to me. If I ever find a way to figure out who hurt you and your sister, I’ll annihilate them. But there is no way I look at your scars and think they make you less. You are beautiful, Winter. Inside and out.” I kissed her again. “Now. I’ve told you my big secret. Finish telling me yours.”
She let out a breath and slid her arms around me again. “I can’t believe the feeling of our bodies moving against each other like this isn’t sending me running screaming from the room.”
“You sure you’re OK? We can move to the other room.”
“Just a little while longer. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to stay in the shower with the water… It’s nice.”
“Whatever you want, baby. Can you go on?”
“There’s not much more to tell. They cut us like you see on my body.” She stepped back and turned around, letting me see her front and back. Indeed, there were straight-line scars all over her body. Knife slices. Some were faint marks while others were deeper, raised white clumps of tissue. “There was blood everywhere. They laughed and played with the blood on our bodies. Tied us down… The second they let us loose, we clung to each other. The blood was sticky yet still slippery. I have no idea why I equated the feeling with water. Probably because when our father took us home, the first thing we did was shower. We demanded it. It was the only time we ever stood up to our father. We were in such bad shape I think it shocked even him. Serelda’s face was so mangled, it took a very long time for me to deal with her. It was more than a week after our father got us back before Black Reign found us. By then all we could do was use creams and keep the cuts as clean as we could.”
“Fuck, baby.” I wasn’t at all sure I wanted to hear any more. Thankfully, that was the end of it.
“Anyway. Bones MC had my stepsister, Darcy. Black Reign brought my father to Bones for him and our stepmother to answer for what they’d done to Darcy. They included us in that interrogation, because El Diablo wanted it clear that if Bones didn’t deal with both of them, he had more than enough reason to do it.”
“Then you took matters into your own hands?”
“I did. Weirdly, no one cared. I think Cain raised an eyebrow, but he just shrugged it off. It was then I realized Serelda and I would be safe with any of those bunch. We elected to go with Rycks and El Segador because they’d been the ones to rescue us.”
We stood silently, the water gently raining down on us. She looked at me with such trust, facing at least one of her fears in my arms.
“So, what now?” Her softly spoken question was full of vulnerability.
“I hope you don’t still think I don’t want you, Winter. I do. And not just sexually, though that’s part of it.”
