Page 104 of What I Should Have Done

“Any problems?” Dom asked. Mikey shook his head.

“Not one,” Mikey answered.

Hearing his voice for the first time shot chills down my spine.

“What the actual fuck?” Duncan exclaimed, rushing forward. Mikey quickly dropped his helmet to the side, pulled off his balaclava just as Duncan slammed into him. Ford sprinted toward him, tackling both of them and they all fell to the ground.

“How the hell…? What the hell is going on?” Bernie asked and then jumped onto the pile of massive men.

“I’m so sorry, guys,” Dom said. “I wish I could’ve told you sooner.”

I couldn’t move. My feet cemented me to the sandy ground as the team slowly sat up. Whacking and patting Mikey as if to reassure themselves he was actually there.

“You have a fuck ton to explain because clearly something happened,” Ford hissed, narrowing his gaze at both Dom and Mikey.

Mikey shook his head, sand dusting from his hair, and he brushed at the beard growing on his chin. “Your button bomb works amazing, Bernie.” Mikey quickly stood up and undid his vest, tossing it to the side by his helmet.

There it was. The same hole, still stained with unusually bright blood.

“My button bomb? You mean the damn prank shit I built?” Bernie rose from the ground, dusting off his pants.

Mikey nodded, a grin spreading across his lips. “And I borrowed one of your fake blood packets you used last Halloween, too, Duncan.”

Duncan sighed and closed his eyes, leaning back on his palms as Ford grunted, rising from the ground. “So, you put them together, and set it off when Dom took the shot. Meaning this fake death was fucking planned?” he grumbled.

“Again, we’re sorry,” Mikey muttered, the smile falling from his face as his eyes slid across the base to mine.

I inhaled a shaky breath but remained still.

“Okay, explain in blunt terms, please,” Bernie said, looking between Dom and Mikey.

Mikey still refused to pull his eyes from mine. Everything swirling in them. All of the unspoken words waiting at the tip of my paralyzed tongue.

Dom placed a hand on Bernie’s shoulder, clinging tightly to the Black Box. “When Mikey came to me with the coordinates, I knew we had to do something desperately different. A Hail Mary. I came up with the idea of faking his death because al-Jabari wouldn’t be looking for a dead man. Mikey remembered the prank you and Duncan pulled last Halloween, I accidentally spilled the words ‘Devil’s Throat’ around the intel guys, and here we are.”

“Karim is both extremely smart and extremely stupid. He played right into your plan, then, didn’t he?” Ford said.

Dom and Mikey both nodded. “Though, I don’t recommend putting one of those button bombs right next to your body. That shit hurts.” Mikey rubbed his chest, his eyes still hooked on mine.

“You fired a blank, which is why you didn’t shoot at all until that exact moment. Which is why you didn’t try and shoot Rashid or Karim first,” Duncan reiterated.

Dom gave him a smile. “I ordered Mikey to not say anything. I needed the reactions from you guys to be genuine. I needed this to go off without a hitch especially since we still weren’t completely sure about Reyes and I wanted to flood him out. Also, I couldn’t tell you guys sooner that Mikey’s death was fake in case one: Reyes had managed to recruit someone else and there was another mole we were unaware of. Or two: if Mikey really didn’t make it home…”

My lieutenant commander slid his eyes to mine. I still had yet to move as my heart couldn’t quite seem to accept that Mikey was right in front of me. That he wasn’t actually dead. The relief flooding my system was almost as draining as the grief it once held. “Please don’t be mad at Mikey. This was my idea. My orders.”

Mikey took a slow step toward me.

“I’m not mad,” I whispered. My vision blurred, tears crashing against the dam. Tears that were building for an entirely different reason than they had this past week. When did I get so soft? “Seven days. It’s been seven days.”

Mikey nodded, his eyes softening. “I know,” he whispered. Coming toward me.

I shook my head, disbelief still running hot through my veins.

“Seven days without food or water,” I added.

Every step he took sent a ricochet of anticipation hot across my skin.

“I packed plenty of MREs and found water in towns along the way.” His shadow swallowed my entire figure as he stopped in front of me, an inch away. I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply. There it was. Not a memory of his sweet scent, but the actual smell.

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