Page 81 of What I Should Have Done

Mikey knotted his jaw. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, apparently also not privy to this conversation before being summoned by Dom.

Bernie shook his head but remained unusually silent, even Duncan’s shoulders fell. “What the hell are we supposed to do now?” Duncan asked.

Dom shook his head. “No fucking clue.”

Silence. The breeze stilled. Like a ghost darting away, a cold chill swept across my shoulders and I glanced over at Mikey. His eyes were dark, shadowed beneath his brows, as he stared directly at me.

“All that work, and we failed,” Ford grumbled and clenched his hands into fists.

“On the bright side, the Black Box is lost to good ole Karimy too,” Bernie offered, then cringed as Dom shot him a nasty glare.

“Our one hope of finding out what his plans are, was that Black Box. He can simply go and create a new one, so all he is, is delayed,” Dom said, voicing the thoughts that ran heavily through my own head too. Disappointment. Despair. Hopelessness grated like that sand that continually dried out my skin.

Suddenly, Mikey shot up from his seated spot, rocking the entire bench despite three other grown ass men sitting on it. “Approve me for a shower outside of designated hours,” he snapped, looking sideways at Dom.

Our team leader tipped his head back, sweat glistening on his dark skin. “Two hours. Everyone go find something to do alone. I don’t want anyone trying to do work, trying to figure this shit out right now. Just go be alone. And even though we don’t have cell service out here, if you want your phones, have at it.”

Mikey didn’t bother nodding as he stepped over the bench and disappeared in a flurry of sand. I watched him go through my peripherals, torn. Part of me screamed to follow him, to confront him for being such a standoffish ass these past three days. But the other part of me felt like a shell of my usual confident self.

This specific mission during this deployment clearly weighed on the entire team, and I couldn’t help but believe it was my fault. When else were they so unsuccessful? Never. The only new variable in this scenario was me.

As silent as the shadows the team frequently morphed into, they slipped away. Leaving me alone at the table. Alone with thoughts that weighed on my soul. The lack of sleep these past three days from the nightmares combined with the realization that all of this somehow was my fault, hit hard.

Dragging the thousand pound weights I called feet, I simply wandered. Unsure of a destination, the only desire that propelled me forward was disappearing from the chatter of soldiers who remained blissfully unaware of the complete devastation that surrounded them.

Our failure could have just resulted in millions of Americans being murdered in what could’ve been a preventable terrorist attack.

“Well, looky here, boys,” a familiar, very annoying, voice snapped through my thoughts, towing me back to the present. I stopped walking and turned to my left. Immediately, I recognized Mikey’s broad back, but for whatever reason, he looked even larger than usual—practically towering over Reyes and a couple of his buddies. They blocked Mikey’s path to the showers.

“The fuck you want?” Mikey growled.

Reyes threw his hands up, showing his palms in submission, and glanced at his buddies. “Don’t take your anger over your failures out on me, man, shit.”

“I’m not in the mood to play your games right now, so move,” Mikey snapped in response and stepped sideways.

Reyes shifted, remaining in front and a sickening smile slid across his face. “You know, I shouldn’t be surprised seeing you react like this. I hear this is the first deployment where you’ve pretty much fucked up every mission you’ve been out on.”

“What the hell do you know about my team?”

“Just that the only thing that changed is Squib joining you, and you’ve been so unsuccessful.”

One of Mikey’s hands shot down to his side. His fingers balled into a fist so tight that the knuckles turned white. Through his shirt, I watched his muscles contract, rolling with the fury that seeped from his body. Damn, kinda hot…

Especially considering that Mikey could easily knock Reyes into a different dimension with a single punch.

“Jealousy doesn’t look good on you,” Mikey huffed, inhaling deeply.

“Jealous? Who am I jealous of?” Reyes crossed his arms, puffing his chest and straightening his back though he still stood a few inches shorter than Mikey.

“Scottie. You’re pissed off that she scored higher than you. That she got the open spot with our team.”

“What does that have to do with your attitude? And failure? Oh, wait.” Reyes grinned. “It just proves my point that I should have been the one to join your team. That training doesn’t equate to what happens out here on the battlefield.”

Mikey stepped forward, his shadow swallowing Reyes’s entire frame. “And what the fuck do you know about actual combat? You were the reason that the buggy managed to escape when we joined your squad.”

“And you’re the reason that the Black Box is missing. You got your buddy, Thompson, killed. And now, with Powell dead, you’re the reason that Karim al-Jabari might actually be able to land a bomb on US soil. You. Not me.” Reyes pointed a finger and jabbed it forward at Mikey’s chest. I stepped forward, ready to beat the shit out of Reyes. How dare he speak like that to Mikey. Or blame him.

Mikey’s hand latched onto the finger and threw it away before Reyes made contact, and I put on the brakes, slipping back to the nearest tent. Shock flashed briefly across Reyes’s face before he regained his bitch-ass smug look. “Oh, and you need to quit messing with the IT equipment. I don’t need you and your buddy, Dumbface or whatever his name is, fucking shit up.”

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