Page 119 of Javier

“One moment we were in the thick of things. Next I knew, I woke up in a field hospital mangled but alive. That’s when they told me. Nix hadn’t made it out. He was dead. He’d left the foxhole to lead our attackers away from me and got blown to pieces. Hell, we had nothing to bury. They couldn’t even retrieve the smallest fragment of his body.”

She winced.

“Shit.” I slapped my forehead. “That was crass of me. I’m sorry.”

“It’s the truth,” she managed evenly. “I now understand why you wanted to know what happened after you went lights out. But Javi, his actions were his decisions, not yours.”

“It was my fault no matter how you look at it,” I muttered. “I can’t—I couldn’t believe he was dead. Not Phoenix Astor. How could he be dead? To this day, I hate myself for not remembering what happened and how he died.”

“Since you didn’t see him die or dead, you can’t accept it.” She offered the words with kindness I didn’t deserve. “You’ve had no closure, just like my sisters and me. I know how awful that feels. Not knowing. Not being able to bury him.”

I trapped a sob in my throat. A fucking sob!

“The dream I had is your nightmare.” Her eyebrows lifted with the realization. “The nightmare you were having the night I woke you up in the hammock is you, reliving that awful moment. Am I right?”

“Yeah.” I dropped my head. “It’s my nightmare, and my shame, and even though it torments me often, it always fails to give me the answers I need.”

“What answers?”

“How he died, when he died, where he died.” So many questions choked my throat. “I have these fractured memories that come and go. I went in to rescue my friend and instead he rescued me. I didn’t tell you because I knew what you’d think of me.”

She blinked several times. “And what’s that?”

“That your brother died because of me, of my incompetence.” There, I’d finally said it. “That I failed my friend, the bravest, most honorable man I’ve ever known.”

She drew back and contemplated me for a few seconds. “Do you really believe that?”

“Of course I do.” I wiped a tear from my eye. “And so does everyone else.”

She shook her head, looking pensive. “I’m not sure about that.”

“You weren’t there,” I pushed back, unable to contain my fury. “I was.”

“Well, I was kind of there,” she countered softly. “In a different way, but there.”

“Sorry.” I cursed myself. “I didn’t mean to diminish you or your dreams.”

“The dream wasn’t very long.” Her eyes acquired a distant glaze. “All I saw was a moment, but IfeltNix’s emotions clearly. He had a plan. He was fully engaged in the moment and hopeful.Iknowhe didn’t feel as if you failed him.”

“I… I don’t understand.” I swallowed dryly. “Why would you say that?”

“His last words to you were not ‘you screwed up, Goof.’ They were about a new dawn on your horizon. About an episode of your life he wanted to see. Those don’t sound like the words of a hopeless man who thought you got him into trouble. They sound like the words of a friend determined to live and encouraging you to do the same.”

Three years of sorrow overwhelmed my defenses. Water cascaded from my eyes and my throat shook with convulsing sobs. I dipped my face in my hands and lost it. I cried for Nix. For the tragedy of his life cut short. For his family and his team, still grieving him. For Missy, who quietly cried with me, mourning the loss of her brother. I bawled like I’d never done before. It would’ve been so much easier if I’d died instead of him. So much better for the world.

“Javi.” Missy’s arms settled around my shoulders and squeezed.

“I’m… sorry…I…” I hiccupped, feeling totally embarrassed. “I can’t stop.”

“It’s okay to cry,” she cooed. “You told me so, remember? You’ve held your grief for so long. Let it out. I share your pain. I’m here with you.”

For a trained Marine, a Raider who’d seen the worst atrocities and never once cried, this was a complete clusterfuck. My sorrows flowed unstoppable. Whoever said men didn’t cry was nuts. I cried with all I had.

I don’t know how much time passed. Missy enveloped me in her arms and held me, protecting me from my self-loathing, buying me time to grieve. There was no judgment from her, no hatred, rejection, or revulsion. Her embrace held fast through it all. Her silence comforted me. In Missy’s arms, I found refuge,release, and maybe, the first glimmers of absolution.

Slowly, the sobs weakened and the tears stopped. The wells of my eyes burned from so much crying, but my breaths slowed and the terrible weight I’d been carrying inside my chest for so many years eased a little.

I wiped the snot from my nose and sniffled. “You don’t think he felt disappointed, abandoned, left behind there at the end?”

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