Page 37 of What I Should Have Done

She seemed so broken and terrified. Scared was not a word I’d use to describe her. Stubborn. Fiery. Strong. Smart. A badass sniper. All of those definitely, but not scared. Not until she returned late from her post.

Someone, or maybe several people, had found her.

Why hadn’t she called for help? Why hadn’t she radioed that she was being attacked? I would’ve gone to her without hesitation. A teammate had been in trouble, and she thought she had to go it alone.

A sharp hiss snapped me from my thoughts. Prying my eyes open, I stepped out of the basin and wrapped a towel around my waist as another sharp inhale met my ears.

“Ow,” a soft, female voice uttered.

Scottie.

My heart jumped. Rammed against my ribs as something plopped on the wooden bench in the cubicle next to me.

I should have done something else, anything else, such as simply dress and leave without a word. I should have said something. I should have stayed in the stall I was in. But for whatever reason, my fingers found the edge of the shower curtain and pried it open.

Glancing around to check that we were the only two in here, I crept silently over to the only thing separating Scottie and me.

And I slipped inside.

Chapter 14

MIKEY

Scottie’s back faced me as she struggled to get her shirt over her head. The fabric ripped at her left arm, dried blood peeling like duct tape on hair. Her breath caught again and she paused, gasping heavily.

“Let me help,” I whispered.

She jumped at my voice and spun around, clamping the shirt back down over her torso. “Get out!” she hissed, pain cracking her words.

“Just…” I raised a hand in submission. “Just let me help.”

Her bottom lip trembled as tears welled up in her eyes. Her body shuddered as her eyes remained glued onto me. Slowly, she nodded and let her arms dangle down to her sides.

Cautiously, I stepped forward, everything in me crying out for her. She seemed like a shell of herself. As gently as possible, my fingers snagged the bottom of her shirt and slowly began working it over her head. With each tug of the skin, each catch of blood that ripped with my slow prying, her face tightened.

“Wait,” she gasped just as I’d managed to get the sticky fabric below her bust. I immediately paused.

“Scottie, I’ve seen a naked girl before. Unless you’ve got like three boobs, it’s nothing new,” I teased, attempting to lighten some of the tension.

She clicked her tongue.

“Bad timing?”

“Yes,” she replied, but the way she spoke that simple affirmation had me sighing in relief.

“There she is,” I tenderly said. Slowly, I continued working the shirt off of each wound, fresh iron liquid trickling from the cuts on the left side of her body. Eventually, it finally worked free of all of the blood and smoothly slipped off entirely, leaving her in nothing but her bra and pants.

Big, brown eyes met mine. She didn’t try to cover herself as her gaze remained locked onto me. The amber stones that swirled in front of me pulled me in. Thirty-two… Thirty-three…

How wrong this was slipped my mind. How forbidden any sort of fraternizing between teammates was, washed away. The overwhelming desire to take care of her flooded my system, unlocking any restraints keeping me at bay.

Her fingers slipped to the waistband of her pants and slowly began undoing them as I simply stood there, watching her. Studying her gaze and the surprisingly gentle soul that stared back. That hard exterior that had graced her face since meeting her was gone.

She stepped out of her pants, exposing even more cuts down her left hip. “You should see a medic,” I muttered, slowly tracing down every bruise forming on her rich, mocha-colored skin. Tracking my eyes across every cut, it took every ounce of self-control so fragile in my soul to not indulge in other parts of her body.

At least I knew that was not appropriate for this situation. No matter how inappropriate this already was.

“I’m fine,” she whispered, suddenly swaying in place.

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