Monty grabbed Ryan’s bicep when he resumed pacing, and Ryan stilled. “How the fuck do you figure that?”
“Ever since we were little I’ve always protected her. I wanted the best for her. I made sure that nothing, namely me, stood in the way of that, and look how good a job I did of that!”
Monty jabbed his finger towards the chair. “Sit down.”
His stomach in knots, Ryan instinctively followed Monty’s order and sat.
Monty stood in front of him, looking down. “I think you’re lying to yourself.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
Ryan’s breathing quickened as he sat back in the chair. “Lying about what?”
“About being scared,” he replied.
“Scared?” Ryan growled, his nostrils flaring dangerously. First it was he couldn’t forgive himself for Kassidy and now he was scared? Who else was going to take their turn at psychoanalysing him today?
“We’re a team. You know that. We all know that. There’s nothing we don’t know about how each other operates. Our lives depend on that knowledge, on being able to interpret each other’s emotions at a glance. I can see it, Kendall. Just admit it to yourself and maybe you can get over it and move on.”
“That’s bullshit, Monty. You know—”
“I know you need to man the fuck up, Kendall!” Monty shouted, pointing his finger at him in sharp, angry jabs. “Stop being so fucking scared about not being good enough for her. Who the hell did this goddamn number on you anyway?”
Ryan stood up, right in Monty’s face. “I killed my sister!” He dragged in a deep breath, his chest heaving with emotion. “I killed her.”
Monty flinched.
“It was my fault. Kassidy was only five years old when she ran out on the road and got hit by a car. I was supposed to be watching out for her. Fin is so much like her. So much that I want her to have what was taken from my little sister. I want her to have every opportunity. Why is that so damn wrong?” he yelled.
“Because you’re not thinking about what she wants.”
“I am! She’s always wanted this!”
“More than she’s wanted you? More than she needs you?” Monty shook his head, disappointment obvious in his eyes. Ryan hated seeing that. “Think about it,” he was told before Monty strode out of the room, the silence he left behind suddenly eerie as it rang loud in his ears.
Shit. Just … fucking shit.
Was he really just scared?
No. Of course he wasn’t. Ryan was a goddamn SAS soldier. He was trained to be one of the toughest sonofabitches in the military. He didn’t do scared. Scared was for little boys who couldn’t stand up to their fathers—who took the beatings and then cried under the cover of darkness. That wasn’t him. Not anymore.
Standing up, Ryan shrugged the thought off and put the chair back underneath the desk.
Two months later
Eastern Afghanistan
His adrenaline pumping, Ryan left the briefing with determination and narrow-eyed focus. Shit was heating up, back-up was being called, and he was about to be heading right into the thick of it.
Monty clapped him on the back as they moved fast towards their respective bunks. “Let’s suit up and get the fuck out there.”
Exhaling steadily, Ryan gave a short nod. Reaching his bunk, he stripped down with short, sharp movements. Tugging down a fitted white shirt, he tucked his tags underneath. Next, he slid on his green and brown pants. Sweat already lining his brow, he did up his belt and pulled on his shirt, working his way down the buttons and tucking it in. Over that went his standard issue Tiered Body Armour System, and after adjusting it in place, Ryan did a final check of his ammunition and equipment pouches. Satisfied everything was where it was supposed to be, he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled on thick socks and boots.
Knowing he had a few minutes, he stood and opened his locker. A sheaf of papers sat inside. He pulled them out and sat back down, running his fingers over Fin’s handwriting.
He skimmed over each one, the phrases that meant the most catching his eye as he went.
I’m glad you couldn’t keep your hands off me. When I close my eyes at night I feel them running over my bare skin as though you’re still here. I feel your hand resting on my chest at night like you used to do, and I know it’s because you like to feel the beat of my heart beneath your fingers. Did you know that you always sleep deeper that way? Some nights you cry out in your sleep, and it hurts just hearing it, but then your hand will eventually settle over my heart and your breathing evens out.
Ryan flicked to the next page.
I miss you. Each day hurts a little more than the last.
He flicked again.
You’re the strongest person I’ve ever known, but someone smart and brave once told me that it’s always the strongest that fall the hardest. You can trust me, Ryan. Let go. I’ll be here to catch you. I’ll always be here.
Ryan’s hands shook.
I’ve attached an ultrasound image of our baby and a list of names in order of my favourites, but it would be nice to have your input—if you’d like to.