Love Survives (Love's Suicide #2)(34)
Brooks
After I’d mailed out both letters, I found refuge back in my bunk. I laid there, staring at the ceiling, replaying every part of my life that led me to this point. I was a ticking bomb, just waiting to detonate. Kat may as well have decapitated me in that hotel room because I came out of there in pieces.
Two weeks later my group had gotten their first assignment. We were doing recon in a dilapidated little town. Concrete buildings had been blown to smithereens. Remnants of humanity were scarce, and even the sight of a stray dog couldn’t make it any less surreal. It was the first time I’d ever experienced the silence of death. It terrified me, snapping me back to a new world; one that existed without love.
The unnerving feeling that overwhelmed me would stick with me. Seeing my first dead body did me in.
We’d entered a standing building. Though rubble surrounded the area, this place was intact. It was obvious that the person had been ambushed. The female was holding a basket full of rotten fruit. Her arms were clung to it as if she was trying hard to scrape up enough means to survive until help came. Shot point blank in the temple, her head was leaning to one side. Behind was another body. At first we assumed it was also a deceased victim. Just as another ranger turned to check our surroundings, it moved. We rushed over to the little body, more bone than skin. Her little eyes were sunken in, and she was unconscious. I watched that soldier carry her back to the vehicle to get her medical attention. She couldn’t have been more than ten. While my adrenaline kept me on my feet, I watched the medic struggling to revive her. By the time we returned to base, she was gone. That little girl never had a chance. God only knows how long the child had been without food. I’d come to the conclusion that her mother must have stolen it for them to eat. Just as they prepared to give their bodies nutrients, someone came in and murdered her. The child, an innocent victim, was left to starve to death, next to her mother’s corpse.
It made me appreciate my life, my family, and the safe roof over my head. It also helped me to see that even though I’d never be able to bring back her parents, I’d be able to give Kat a reason to sleep at night, at least in theory. I needed her to know that they hadn’t died in vain. One way or another, I was going to bust my ass to get revenge for all the lives lost. I was determined to save as many people as I could because watching a child die was unbearable.
That night I found a quiet area in the sand and crouched down to pay my respects. I lost it, there alone, on the cold hard ground. My pain wasn’t just for the deceased women. It was for everything I’d been through up until this point. It was for a love that was so strong that it couldn’t die. No matter how bad I had it, there was still someone worse off than me. That’s when I knew I had to get my ass up and make something out of my life. I had to fight because it was all that was keeping me from letting go. I was determined to be a hero, to make up for the pain I’d caused my parents, the mistakes I’d made with Kat, and the fact that love wasn’t enough to keep us together. In that instant I was going to live like tomorrow wouldn’t come. I’d bury what was left of my heart and live solely to help others. It was the only way I could see that light at the end of the tunnel again; the only way I could breathe without wanting to break.
Chapter 17
“Are you sure you want to do this?” The Corporal asked as he put the ink in his custom tattoo gun. He’d been lucky to have a hobby while we were overseas. Some of us were too busy moping around in misery. As far as his question went, I’d never been more sure about anything before. This was a symbol of something I knew would never die. Every day I could wake up and have a reminder of her; a memory of what could have been.
The makeshift room was only secured by thick plastic walls. Instead of having a custom table, he’d constructed one out of scraps around the base. His light was also something he’d scavenged. It was an extension cord with a light bulb attached with electrical tape. I was certain at any moment it would catch and burn the place to ash.
A couple other soldiers were standing around, waiting for their turn. Apparently this guy had a lucrative business. I heard them talking about getting matching tats for their unit. Maybe if I was close to the people in mine, I would have been included if they decided to get one. Instead I ignored their playful bantering. I knew they did it to pass the time and disguise their fears. I just chose to live within my own bubble.
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
“Where do you want it?”
I placed my hand on my heart, but then moved it just underneath where my ribs sat. “Here. Where my lungs are.”
I wasn’t going to explain why I was putting it there. No man wants to tell another that he can’t breathe fully without the woman he loves even if they’ve experienced that kind of pain before. It’s just a code that men stick to. We aren’t open books, waiting to be read. For me, I wanted my business to stay buried.
While the gun dug into my skin, dragging over each bone, I thought about Kat. I imagine her hands tracing the letter, and how she’d feel about me marking my skin with her initial. In that moment I wanted to cry, but not because of the constant stinging I was adhering to. My pain was so intense. Losing my grip on life was even harder. I sat there imagining my dead body being returned to the states, and somehow her discovering my tattoo. I pictured the pain she’d been in, and a part of me felt good about it. I wanted her to know that I’d spent my whole life loving her, only to lose in the end. I needed Kat to remember the times we’d shared, good and bad. She deserved to know how she’d broken me to pieces, and why I’d never forget it. It was obvious we’d never be together again. We were through. Forever and always we’d be separated by life’s path. Nothing could bring us together again, not even prayers.