Page 53 of Duty Bound

“Spade thought the world of you. I think he wanted to be the kind of man you deserved. And I think he tried hard to be that guy.”

“In other words, not himself.”

Blade winced. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Tears swum in her eyes. “I had no idea he felt like that. I wish he would have told me.”

“Maybe he didn’t want to lose you.”

Her lip quivered. “He wouldn’t have lost me. We’d have worked it out.”

Blade didn’t reply.

There was nothing wrong with wanting to be a better man.

His chest tightened at the sight of her blinking back tears, her face pale and drawn, yet determined.

No, nothing wrong with that at all.

The incline gradually lessened, the loose gravel becoming interspersed with patches of hard-packed dirt and sparse vegetation. He let go of her hand.

“We were very young when we got together. Joe was my first boyfriend. The only man I’d ever been with.”

He inhaled sharply as memories came flooding back—her lips on his neck, their bodies crushing together, his tongue in her mouth.

“It’s hard to believe he kept his true self from me.”

“I saw a different side to him, that’s all.” Blade wished to hell he hadn’t said anything. “Out in the field, Spade was decisive, brave, and loyal. He had your back, you know.”

She nodded.

“Back home, he was just Spade. Rowdy, free-spirited, always pushing the boundaries.”

Lily shook her head. “That sounds like a completely different Joe than the one I knew.”

“I guess he had many sides to his personality, just like we all do.”

Her eyes were sad. He wanted to hold her, to kiss away the pain, but he couldn’t. It wasn’t his to take on.

“I guess so. I just wish we’d had more time.”

“Spade was a good guy, an excellent soldier, and my best friend. That’s all that counts.” The guilt cut through him, making him clench his hands around his rifle.

Spade was a better man than him.

Not only had he moved in on Spade’s girl, but he’d also bad-mouthed his dead buddy in front of her. God, he was a prick.

He just didn’t want Lily thinking he was the one to blame. That he was the bad influence. Her opinion of him mattered. A lot.

Way more than he thought it would.

“You were with him when he died?”

He gave a stiff nod. “Yeah. He passed away in my arms, right there on that mountain pass.”

Tears flowed freely down her face. “I didn’t know he died in your arms. Why didn’t you tell me?”

The energy leaked out of him like he’d been hit by a bullet. The memory was still so vivid, probably because he’d replayed it so many times in his head. There was no bandage for this injury. The raw, gaping wound would never heal.

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