Chapter Thirteen
Hunter
I cleared up the broken plate and let Abby take a moment to digest everything. I’d never in my life had a full-on argument like that before where I shouted at someone to get my point across and while I didn’t want to make a habit of it, at least it had cleared the air between us. I hadn’t meant to laugh because nothing about the situation had been funny, but I’d been so relieved that she hadn’t been rejecting me because she thought I had too many issues to deal with that my relief had poured out of me in the only way that it could.
I threw the broken pieces in the trash then cleaned up the pieces of food. Instead of retaking my seat opposite her, I dragged the chair around the counter and sat down next to her.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I honestly wasn’t laughing at you. I told you I’d never do that and I meant it. It was just the situation. I was relieved, and that was how it chose to come out.”
She nodded. “It’s okay, I get that now. I’m sorry too. I’ve never acted like that before. I don’t know what came over me. What must you think of me?”
He grinned. “That you’re a strong person who would never take any shit?”
She shook her head. “There’s never an excuse for violence.”
“I know. I’m not making light of it. Let’s draw a line under it, okay?”
She nodded, a grateful expression on her face. “Okay.”
She looked down at my chest then lifted her hand as if she wanted to touch it, but hesitated before making contact.
“Can I?”
I reached for her hand and placed against my chest. With light, delicate strokes, she traced her fingers over the scar tissue.
“Can you tell me about it?”
I nodded. “I rarely speak about what happened when I was away on active duty, not to anyone. But I’d like to tell you. I’d like you to understand some things about me.”
She nodded for me to continue.
“I’d been serving in the army for a couple of years before I was deployed in Afghanistan. The situation over there was dire. Gunfire and bombs soon became commonplace sounds.”
I sighed. I tried not to think about my time there because I was afraid it might make the nightmares worse.
“But just because we heard them all the time, that didn’t make them easier to take. I never got used to them.”
“I can imagine. I wouldn’t have either,” she said.
“When we were patrolling, we never knew what we might face. We always tried to be prepared for anything that came our way, but it’s impossible to be prepared for everything, of course.
“Unfortunately, I learned that the hard way.”
“I almost don’t want to know what happened next,” she said. “But I think I need to hear it.”
I reached for her hand and squeezed it.
“One day, we were sent to a village that had come under attack from the Taliban. Half of the buildings there had long since been destroyed and others were still burning from recent bombs that had exploded.
“There were injured women and children in the streets and dead bodies littered the sidewalks.”
I squeezed my eyes closed. “I can’t imagine how terrible it must have been to witness all that. The things you must have seen…”
I shuddered, squeezing my eyes shut as if that would prevent me from remembering, but I could still see the carnage in my mind’s eye.
“It was horrific. Some of the people had been torn apart. Others had lost limbs and some people’s families had been completely wiped out. When we were looking around the debris, a woman came to us crying and begging for us to help.
“Her son was still trapped inside one of the buildings. She was hysterical— and rightly so. She said her son was the only child she had left.
“She’d already lost her husband and three other children so naturally, the boy she had left was everything to her.
“I didn’t hesitate to step in. The building was derelict—a small apartment block that wasn’t habited anymore. There were only three floors. He’d taken shelter in there somewhere when the bombing had started, but the building had been hit.
“The fire didn’t seem that bad, to begin with. But the further I got inside, the worst it became. The smoke was suffocating. And as the fire ripped its way through the building, the heat was intense.
“I went deeper inside. I started to go room to room, but I couldn’t find him anywhere.
“Then, I thought I heard him calling for help from up on the second floor. I began to climb the stairs, convinced that I could get to him before the fire consumed us both.
“However, when I reached the second floor, the fire had already started to take hold. At the far end of the corridor, there was a wall of flame that would have prevented me from going any further.
“I never would have been able to fight my way through. But as luck would have it—or so I thought at the time, I didn’t need to fight my way through anything.
“Because I was in the right place. I could hear him calling out to me, begging me to help. His voice was clearer as I neared and I followed the sound as if guided by instinct alone.
“When I finally reached him, he was much smaller than I had expected. He was huddled against a wall near the window and terrified.
“Smoke filled the room, filling my lungs and making me cough. It was difficult to see.
“It’s okay,” I told him, trying to remain calm, for both our sakes. “You’re safe. I’ve got you now.”
“But of course, I didn’t have him, not yet. As I tried to cross the room to get to him, part of the ceiling collapsed and the metal joist that had been holding it in place fell down, hitting me in the stomach.
“It pinned me in place. I tried to wriggle free, but I was stuck fast. I struggled to pull in air and each time I did, the mouthful was filled with heat and smoke.
“Fire ripped through the room at an alarming pace. The boy screamed and when I looked across the room, I could see that he was trapped. And on fire.”
Abby made a horrified gasp, but I was so lost in the story, I barely heard it.
“I screamed for help, but no one came and I watched him burn to death.”
Abby’s sob barely broke through the scene that was replaying in my mind like a video clip.
“More of the ceiling and some of the wall collapsed, so much so it hit the joist and I was able to wriggle free. But I was trapped by fire on all sides.
“I would never have made it to the door so the window was my only option. But to get to it, I had to go through a wall of flames.
I found an old blanket and threw it over my head, but of course, both it and I caught on fire when I ran through the flames.
The pain was intense—unlike anything I’d ever experienced. I screamed and ran for the window. There was no glass in it. The explosion had taken care of that. I didn’t hesitate to jump through it. I was still on fire and screamed, all the way down.
“Even though I was only up on the second floor, there was still a fair way to drop. I broke my leg in the landing and fractured some ribs. Someone put the fire out, but the pain didn’t subside.”
“They eventually got me to a hospital and fixed my leg. I had internal bleeding from where the joist had fallen on me and it had done some damage to my insides, too. Hence the fact that I can’t have children.”
I shrugged. “I was honorably discharged when I got out of the hospital and then I came home. I’d always loved art and Creede didn’t have a tattoo shop, so…”
After I’d finished my story, I looked across at Abby. Tears streamed down her face.
“Hey,” I soothed. “Don’t cry. I’m okay. Really.”
I’d come to terms with what had happened some years ago, but perhaps I hadn’t fully laid it to rest. The nightmares were a testament to that.
Abby threw her arms around me and pulled me into a tight embrace. I slid my arms around her back and held on tight, letting her cry softly against my shoulder.
“I can’t imagine the pain you must have gone through,” she said. “The fire…”
I nodded. “That wasn’t the only fire I’ve been caught in actually.”
Horror flooded into her expression.
“Yeah, the second time was at the clubhouse, a few years ago.”
“I heard about that,” she said.
“I nodded. I’d had too much to drink and didn’t want to get on my hog, so—“
“Your what?”
I chuckled. “My motorcycle.” I shook my head. “I’ve got a lot to teach you if you want to be my old lady.”
The frown that creased her brow made my grin widen. “Do I want to be your old lady?”
I full out laughed that time. “I hope so.”
“So, the fire?” she said, wiping the smile off my face.
I shrugged. “I was sleeping off the booze in one of the rooms at the clubhouse when the fire started. By the time I woke up, it was pretty bad.
“I got out, but, yeah, I got burned a little. Again.”
She heaved a sigh. “Wow, the first time I can understand, but two fires? What are the odds?”
I gave a derisive snort. “I’ve been asking myself that same damn question for years.”
“But, you’re okay now?” she asked.
I loved the look of concern on her face.
It was endearing.
“I’m okay now—if you don’t count the nightmares where I’m bathed in flames, I’m perfectly okay.”