Page 46 of Trapped with the Covert Ops Soldier

“I told the Sheriff, and it seemed to help, for a little while. Now though... I can barely bring myself to think about it without wanting to throw up. Who could I talk to? How do I talk about it?”

“You could talk to me, and you talk about it any way you can.”

She released a deep sigh. “I’m so tired, so very, very tired of carrying all this crap around.”

“I know how you feel.”

“Do you? Do you relive it over and over? Do you hear the screams and smell the blood?”

“Yeah.” He sounded tired all of a sudden. “I was there and I haven’t forgotten a thing.”

She let the silence coat her open wounds, and for a moment they were numb. “I feel so damn guilty I survived when so many others didn’t.”

“Survivor’s guilt sucks.”

“I understand, rationally, that I shouldn’t feel that way, but reason seems to be irrelevant.”

“Emotions aren’t rational and never will be.”

“What really bothers me in the middle of the night is all the people I could have saved had we been just a little closer to help.”

“We’re lucky anyone survived the attack.”

“I don’t feel lucky.”

She watched him strangle the steering wheel for several seconds before he blew out a breath and said, “All you can do is focus on the future and figure out how you can pay it forward. You’ve been given a second chance at life. Don’t waste it.”

“You think that might help?”

“It couldn’t hurt.”

She stopped talking and let herself think about it for all of a second or two. No, there was only one way for this to end and it wasn’t with counseling sessions at another doctor’s office. But if she told him what she thought might work, he’d never let her out of his sight. “I’ll consider it.”

They continued across the bumpy track, heading into denser trees. It almost looked like the trail ended abruptly in a wall of foliage, but there was a dip and a turn that took them to the right, then left, and they were at the cabin. It wasn’t large, just one room with a loft, a wood burning stove and enough sleeping bags for a small army.

The sun was setting, which meant they didn’t have long to move their supplies inside before they lost their light. They moved quickly, but efficiently, working to get the job done as if they’d never been apart.

By the time full darkness had fallen, they had a fire going in the stove, lanterns lighting up the interior of the cabin, and a can of beans heating.

“Beans for supper?” Smitty asked as he brought in his duffel bag. “Isn’t that a bit cliché?”

“I’m adding some wieners to it.”

“Sounds like a meal for champions.”

“Heh.” She stirred the beans, then began cutting up the wieners.

“Where are the beds?”

“Up there.” she pointed at the loft. “And there’s only one.”

“Only one, huh?”

“It’ll fit two sleeping bags.”

“You’re no fun.”

“I’m not out here for fun.” It wasn’t until the words were out that she realized how harsh they sounded.

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