Nobody's Lost (Rescue Me Saga #5)(30)

“A lot of people were counting on me. Hell, my Marine unit in Kosovo wasn’t even involved in any combat situations, so Kandahar would have been—”

Her hand on his sleeve jolted him back to awareness. He needed to keep his distance. “Let’s head back, Red. You’re probably hungry by now.”

He gestured for her to precede him, but she took his hand instead to walk beside him where they could on the sometimes narrow path.

The woman brought out his protective instincts like crazy.

But could he protect her from himself?





Chapter Ten





Megan chopped the bok choy and mushrooms while Ryder prepped the carrots, broccoli, and chicken. Cooking with him was a good change of pace from working at her computer. Editing on a laptop screen also hurt her eyes, so she welcomed the break when he asked if she’d like to help him prepare dinner. While she had been here only a few hours, the man was so easy to be with, it felt as though they’d known each other much longer.

Even so, he drove her insane. Despite her attempts to show she wanted him to look at her as more than his master sergeant’s little sister, he kept pushing her away. After their walk this afternoon, she’d complained of a headache just to go to her room and relieve her frustrations with her Hitachi. She’d never experienced this kind of attraction before.

And there was nothing she could do about it because the man only saw her as someone who needed protection from some very absent foes.

The knife slipped and nicked her finger.

“Ow!”

Before she had time to grab a paper towel, Ryder had her hand under the running faucet with cold water, washing away the blood. Her hand was growing numb, but he continued to hold it under the frigid water.

“I think it’s stopped bleeding, Ryder.”

When he didn’t move or say anything, she turned to him. His eyes had glazed over.

“Ryder. Look at me.”

As if a puppet on strings, he slowly turned his head toward her, but his eyes remained unseeing.

“Ryder. It’s Megan. I just cut myself. Minor cut. I’m fine. You’re here with me in your kitchen.”

He blinked and glanced down at her hand again. She pulled it out of the water to show him the bleeding had long since stopped.

His gaze returned to hers, clear-eyed. “You okay?”

She smiled and relaxed, realizing she’d been holding herself so still her arms ached. “I’m fine.”

“Let me get you a bandage.”

“Just a Band-aid. It’s superficial.”

He went to a corner cabinet, which apparently served as his medicine cabinet, too, judging from the over-the-counter and prescription bottles she saw inside. He pulled out the familiar box and a tube of antibiotic ointment.

As he ministered to her cut, she asked, “Where did you go?”

“What?”

“You zoned out for a bit when you saw the blood. Want to talk about it?”

“No.” He washed his hands and returned to where he’d been chopping vegetables earlier, but it took him a moment to pick up the knife and continue.

“I respect that you want to protect me from the horrors you experienced, but I can handle more than you know if you ever want to share anything.”

He glanced her way and stared. “Careful what you wish for, Red. Keep asking me to open up to you and someday I just might. You may never look at me the same way again.”

Oh, Ryder.

She closed the gap and wrapped her arms around his waist. He was so stiff and unwelcoming, but she continued to hold him. Maybe if he knew she cared—

He laid down the knife. “God damn it! I don’t need this!”

Megan held on.

“I don’t want you to baby me.”

“I’m just holding you, Ryder.”

“I don’t need to be held and certainly don’t deserve to be comforted. The families of the ones who died, they’re the ones people should be comforting.”

Despite his words, a tiny hole appeared in his armor and a sob of anguish broke free from him. Megan forced him to turn toward her and held onto him even tighter, but didn’t look him in the eyes. His psyche needed space. But his body needed a hug.

Please, trust me enough to let go.

When she thought he’d continue to stand there like a wooden statue, his arms finally wrapped around her, holding her so tightly, at first she couldn’t breathe. She didn’t push him away, though.

“I’ve got you, Ryder. You’re safe. Let it go.”

He choked on another sob and then another. “I f*cked up. Twice. It was all my fault. Men are dead or maimed because of me. Because I didn’t do my job.”

Survivor guilt. So many veterans she knew suffered from it. Losing a buddy on the battlefield was the worst thing a Marine could experience.

No man left behind.

But sometimes all they could retrieve was what was left of their buddy’s body.

“Tell me about the first time.”

“Can’t.”

“Was it Afghanistan or Iraq?”

The silence dragged out. She waited.

“I can tell you about Fallujah. Iraq.”

Apparently, whatever happened in Afghanistan was too painful to speak about yet. She’d give him time. “Tell me what it was like in Fallujah.”