Page 59 of What I Should Have Done

“That’s why I joined, or was kinda given an ultimatum, really. Got caught fighting at seventeen with this shitty old man who liked to beat on his wife and kids. Wasn’t my first time. The officer recognized me from some of my MMA fights I had under my belt, only then finding out I wasn’t actually a legal adult. I looked older, so no one ever questioned the fake age my trainer put down. So, he told me he wouldn’t book me into juvie if I agreed to let him drive me to the recruiter’s office.” My throat tightened. There was another reason for her to run. But hell, I’d already fucked things up, so it didn’t matter anymore.

“You already had professional fighting training and you weren’t even legally an adult?” she asked, leaning forward, and the back of her hand swept across her cheek.

“I told you I’d been fighting for a long time.” Little did she know…

“What did your parents think when you inevitably had to tell them you were shipping off to boot camp?”

“Before or after they rolled over in their grave?” I tipped my head, raising a brow.

“Oh, right. You mentioned both your parents are dead.” Her knees slid away from her body and she cracked her neck.

“You’re not gonna ask how or when or anything like that?” I pressed, surprised. Everyone always did.

She shook her head. “Not unless you want to tell me.”

“Dad was a drunk and a mean one at that. Mom was addicted to drugs. I came home from getting into shit I shouldn’t have at fifteen.” I paused. “Or maybe I wasn’t quite fifteen yet? Anyway, I was close to fifteen and came home late. Mom was passed out on one end of the couch, high on some shit, and Dad was about three bottles into the hard stuff on the other end. I tried to take the alcohol away from him and he shot my mom. I didn’t even realize he had a gun.”

An audible gasp slipped from her lips and then she slammed a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she squeaked. “Please, continue.”

“He turned the gun on me, but in his drunken state, I thought I’d be able to at least get it away from him. Somehow, in the tussle, the gun faced him instead of me.” Exhaling slowly, I clamped my teeth together. There was no need for the story to continue. She could deduce the rest of what happened. I wasn’t even sure why I’d explained things that far.

“I’m sorry, Mikey,” she whispered, her voice so distant from where I was sitting despite being so close.

No one had ever told me they were sorry.

It was always, where’d you go after that? Or were you the one to pull the trigger? But all she said was sorry. I stared at her, uncertainty swelling within my heart.

She leaned forward, bracing on all fours and crawled across the cavern, closing the distance between us. My brows knitted together, so tightly a small headache pounded at my temples.

“What are you doing?” I quietly asked.

Warmth from her body filled the cool air around us. She paused near my feet and undid her vest and helmet, plopping the plate, weapons, and cover to the ground. My heart raced in my chest as she leaned forward again and carefully crawled over to me.

Straddling my legs, careful to avoid brushing against my wound, her fingers found the bottom of my vest. I didn’t make a move to stop her as she removed my own plate. The only sounds between us were our steady breaths and the pitter of sand against rock outside these walls.

With a clatter, the vest settled against the ground, and then she leaned forward, unclipping the buckle of my helmet. Her fingertips brushed against my skin, goosebumps shot across my body. Dropping it to the side, she didn’t hesitate, and pressed her head to my chest. Her arms encircled my waist, pulling me tightly into her embrace. Raising my arms from the ground, they hovered near her. Every beat of her heart thumped against my stomach. Her warm breath washed against any exposed skin, seeping through my shirt.

My jaw trembled. “My grandma got custody of me. My dad’s mom and the only living family I had left,” I said. The words just tumbled out of my mouth, uncontrollably. And I closed my eyes, finally wrapping my arms around her. Fisting the back of her shirt, I clutched at the one person in the world who simply said she was sorry that it happened to me.

She squeezed me tighter but didn’t speak.

“I’d been at her place for an hour, that was it, and she started yelling at me that it was…” Saliva hitched in my throat. “That it was my…my fault her only child was dead.” Resting my chin against the top of her head, I inhaled her scent of sweat and sand. There was even a hint of vanilla leftover from whatever soap she used.

“I left and haven’t seen her since. And she’s never come looking,” I finished. Trembling, my hand raised to the nape of Scottie’s neck as she settled in even closer against my body. Hair prickled against my skin, her ever-present bun waited at my fingertips where I itched to release her tresses from their cage.

I should have asked. I should have done something else, but it was as if they worked on their own accord. Pin by pin, I tugged the clips holding her bun tight from her hair. It unraveled as it once had down her back. She didn’t even flinch, not a muscle in her moved to stop me as I tugged her hair tie loose.

Like a waterfall crashing down the side of a mountain, her hair cascaded free. Closing my eyes, my cheek pressed against her forehead. Comfort filled my aching soul as my fingers gently combed through her hair, over and over again. Smooth as silk, the all-consuming loneliness seemed just a little less overwhelming.

“Mikey?” her voice sounded distant, almost tired.

“Hmmmm?” I hummed against her head.

“I’m glad it was you with me today,” she mumbled against my chest. Her fingers twisted tighter into my back and she tried to scooch even closer.

“You should have gotten out when I told you to,” I teased. Her strands of hair continued to slither through my fingers.

“Yeah, but then who would’ve saved your ass?”

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