Beloved (Toni Morrison Trilogy #1)(91)

We didn’t bring a translator with us, so I’m on my own. We may have to draw pictures in the dirt.

She nods but doesn’t speak.

“I’m Ja—Muff. What’s your name?” I almost told her my real name like a f*cking idiot. It’s bad enough we’re in uniforms with our names on them. I get to walk around bumf*ck Afghanistan with my last name on me. Perfect.

She stares at me and finally responds, “Cat.”

My eyes go wide. What the f*ck? Cat? I don’t know if it’s her name or if it’s the only English word she knows.

I shake my head and go back to the little girl. “Your name is Cat?”

She holds her ball and nods her head yes.

I smile and think about Catherine, going back to the day I left. The way she looked. How I was so blind with rage I couldn’t even talk to her. She has no clue what it was like for me to walk away from her. It was bad enough when she pushed me away, but to know it’s me this time—it’s f*cking killing me. She captivates me, makes me want to try again, to feel things I swore I’d never allow myself to feel. Those brown eyes get me every time. It’s only been a week, but I miss her. I wish I could hear her voice and beg her to take me back. Something’s kept me from calling her, though. It’s better this way. I don’t care if someone thinks it makes me a *. I’m far from it.

Suddenly the little girl turns and runs back to her brother, who’s screaming her name.

Fuck.

I turn back to Twilight, who’s staring off at the perimeter. I kick myself for thinking the little girl would give us any answers. Mark was right when he said this was stupid. There’s no court of law and no one gives a damn here, but I couldn’t let it go. Again, because of me and my choices someone else’s blood is on my hands. It was my f*cking mission—I sent him. I made him go, even though his wife was seven months pregnant, because I was dealing with the stupid cosmetics shit—which I never wanted in the first place. It was never supposed to be my job. It was for her. Now it’s my goddamn mess. Running one company was responsibility enough, but two?

As I walk to the detonation point, the air shifts.

My entire body goes still. Not a muscle moves.

The hairs on my arms rise. I take a breath as everything around me becomes crystal clear and moves in slow motion. The tree on my left is moving. A bird flies to the north. A sense of calm washes over me as the sound barrels toward me.

I can count the seconds. I know it’s coming.

The heartbeats of time pass.

Until it hits.

The bullet rips through my skin and muscle before exiting the other side. I jerk back from the impact of the gunshot. Everything stops as my body registers what my mind was prepared for. I’ve been shot.

Pain. Numb. Pain. It crushes together.

I hunch over as another bullet shreds through my body. I buckle and crumple to the ground as the agony becomes too much. Holy f*cking shit! I curse and yell as the sound of bullets rains down.

“Shots fired! Shots fired!” I hear from a distance.

Yeah, no shit shots fired.

“He’s down!” I hear Mark call out from behind the Humvee.

The bullets hit the ground around me. The sound of each one bouncing on the dirt just inches away from me vibrates in my head.

I start to crawl toward the truck for cover.

Another bullet hits.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck!” I scream out as it tears through me.

“Don’t move!” Mark yells franticly as I try to roll and grab my gun.

“On the roof! Sniper on the roof,” I cry out.

Pop. Pop. Pop. I hear them over and over. Heavy gunfire fills my ears as Mark continues to yell at me. All I see is red. My vision fades in and out.

Black.

Red.

White.

“Kill them and let’s go!” Mark’s loud voice says over the sound of bullets. “Up on the ridge. There’s another one!”

I return fire, trying to shoot my way to safety. The sounds of screaming and gunfire are all I register.

“Muff!” Mark calls out as my vision starts to fade. The pain is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.

Everything becomes foggy. My eyes. I’m so tired. But then I see her. She’s beautiful. Her dark blue eyes pierce through the pain, giving me numbness. Her long blond hair is exactly as I remember. She walks toward me with her hand outstretched. “Madelyn.” Her name rolls off my tongue effortlessly. She steps closer as I extend my arm. Closer and closer, her eyes stay locked on mine.

“Jackson, no! Stay with me,” I hear. Catherine’s voice. The sound of it jolts me and I drop my hand.

“Catherine,” I call out to her.

Opening my eyes, I see Mark’s face contort as he continues to shoot. “Motherf*cker! Move!” Using my arms, I try to crawl closer.

I see him throw his gun down and rush toward me.

“Mark,” I croak. My vision is hazy.

I’m weak. I can’t hold on.

The pain is taking over and I can’t fight the black.

I close my eyes. There’s no fight. I’m too tired. She’s here, waiting for me with her long brown hair and chocolate brown eyes—she’s perfect. It’s too much. In the dark, I see her. In the dark, there’s no pain, no guilt—just her.

I focus on the warmth in her eyes and succumb to the numbness.