Love, Tussles, and Takedowns (Cactus Creek #3)(56)

“And who’d you have to bribe to even get them leave? At last count, they were still working off demerits for the next few years.” An exaggeration…but not a big one.

“That, you can thank Drew for. I told him that since my brothers couldn’t make it over to help you move, I figured I’d call some of yours. He cashed in some ‘favors he’d somehow already racked up with the DOD’—I didn’t ask—to make this happen.”

He planted his lips against her neck and nuzzled her skin, now wishing the guys he hadn’t seen in almost half a year could head out for a bit and come back later. Much later.

Lia laughed, clearly unsympathetic over his dilemma. She pushed him gently over to the living room and ordered him to hang out with the guys while she went to order them some pizzas.

All three of them watched her take her cell phone into the other room.

“Damn, Reyes, how the hell did you get lucky enough to land that one?”

Hudson barely heard the question. He was too busy shaking his head over the text message on his phone.

>>> EVERYTHING I DO – BRYAN ADAMS

Well, hell.

He went over to the kitchen to grab a few more beers to toss at the guys. “I’ll be back in an hour, guys. Feel free to turn up the TV.”

His trek to the bedroom was trailed with hoots and hollers.



*



THE NEXT MORNING, Hudson finished up his shower and wondered why Lia wasn’t still asleep in bed. Lately, the woman was getting up almost as early as he was.

And they say miracles never happen.

That’s when he realized his apartment was nearly silent, which was odd because the guys had crashed on the couch and they always, always woke up as early as he did. Hearing Roman and Johnnie talking in hushed tones out in the living room—a decibel he didn’t think they were capable of—he went out to go investigate.

Roman, Johnnie, and Lia were standing there next to his old CO, Clint.

…And a little boy.

It took him several blinks to realize he wasn’t seeing things for once.

The face that haunted his night terrors was in fact standing before him.

Only…it looked younger, even more vulnerable.

Lia’s voice sounded so far away. But he heard the words as clearly as if they were chambered bullets.

Each aimed at his heart.

“Hudson, Drew found out a few more things about your last mission…”

Hudson dropped down to a crouch, one knee down as if in prayer.

“Reyes,” said Clint quietly, “I’d like you to meet Saaleh Kohistani. Hafez was his older brother.”

Hafez.

The child bomber he’d killed.

This was his younger brother.

Shame and blood-thickening remorse filled Hudson’s veins.

Hearing the softly-spoken Dari Persian from the woman who had her hand on little Saaleh’s shoulder, Hudson spoke carefully to make sure she could translate his words.

His utterly inadequate apologies.

“Saaleh, your brother’s death was my doing, and I will live with that for the rest of my life. If I thought my apologies could offer you any comfort at all, I would stay here on my knees and apologize a thousand times over.”

The translator’s nodding sentences were met with Saaleh’s widening eyes and quick-sliding glances back and forth between Hudson’s face and the translator’s mouth.

Saaleh replied with a short sentence, directed to his translator.

She nodded at him with a single word. Hudson’s Dari was rusty and very minimal at best but he recognized the word.

“Yes.”

The translator looked almost apologetic as she translated, “Saaleh had asked if you were the man who shot his brother.”

Hudson repeated the Dari word for ‘yes,’ looking straight at Saaleh, prepared for the hate that was sure to come.

Clint broke in with a brief, clipped sentence that made his thoughts on the topic crystal clear. “Saaleh—Hudson is tortured by his actions of that day; he feels shame and guilt over making the decision he did.”

The immediate translation led to Saaleh putting a hand on Hudson’s shoulder.

Hudson very nearly crumbled at the compassion in the single gesture.

“The insurgent group killed my parents and forced my brother and I to fight for them,” explained Saaleh, via his translator. “My brother tried to tell them to leave me, that I was too young, but they took me too.” His sentences were brief, basic.

Each word burned itself into Hudson’s brain.

“At first, I was made to clean and do errands while my brother fought. Several months this lasted until the day arrived when they told me I would die for their cause.”

Hudson knew this part of the story well. It was sadly a common story for far too many children who were kidnapped and held at the mercy of the hands of local insurgent groups.

“The men brought me to a small village near where I grew up and strapped a bomb onto my chest.” Saaleh paused, the horror of the memory flashing in his young eyes.

For a brief moment, Hudson wanted to grip this young boy’s hand to give him comfort. But he held back. How could this child find comfort from his brother’s murderer?

“When Hafez discovered I would be dying that day, he ran over and demanded they use him instead.” Saaleh shook his head. “They refused. Hafez was too old for this bombing, and too useful still. I was neither.”