Page 130 of Hold Me Before You Go

Chapter Thirty-Three

Grayson

"I didn’t think I’d be spending a Tuesday blowing up a fucking building, but here we are,” Mags grunted from beside me, holding the detonator in his hands.

Where the fuck?

I looked at my friend, noting his clean-shaven face, his bright eyes—his youth. My eyes dropped down, taking in his military uniform.

“Kiss my fucking ass, fuckers,” he muttered, his thumb pressing down on the red button.

In the distance, on top of a hill, a building exploded, sending debris and black smoke into the air. Seconds later, shouts and screams of horror filled the air, the people in the town coming out of hiding, running barefoot into the dirt street.

I wasn’t supposed to be here.

“Mags, what day is it?” I asked.

The satisfied look on his face faded, replaced by confusion. “Bullet, what’s going through your fucking head? What’s wrong with you today?”

Bullet.

My call sign.

My heart began to pound inside my chest. I wasn’t supposed to be here. This—this was in the past.

“Just answer the question, Mags,” I pushed out through my teeth, panic slithering around my feet like snakes.

Snakes.

“It’s the tenth of June,” my friend answered as I looked down at my arms, the sleeves of my uniform rolled up to my biceps, revealing my tanned skin.

My tattoos weren’t there.

Fuck.

Another explosion sounded in the distance, and we both ducked, shards of concrete hitting our backs and helmets. I looked behind us, finding our squadron doing the same, already loaded up, ready to head out. Our mission was complete and we were set to return to base.

You know what day it is, Grayson.

Today’s the day you were supposed to die.

“Where’s Carrie?” I asked, my voice thick.

Mags looked over to me, the younger version of him, still full of life and hope. The corners of his eyes crinkled, narrowing as he asked, “Who’s Carrie?”

When I didn’t answer, he lifted his hand, setting it on top of my helmet. “Get out of the funk, man. We have a war to win.”

I watched him, frozen in place as he walked away from me, along with the rest of our men, their boots crunching underneath the rubble. I looked back to where the smoke was filling the sky, death surrounding me. It was in the air, in the screams of the innocent, in the blood running down the streets like streams. There was no escaping it.

Grayson, come back to me.

Her voice—that sweet voice was in the wind now. I looked all around me, my eyes scanning the nightmare I’d been thrown back into.

Please, Grayson! Grayson!

Tipping my head back, I looked up to the night sky, searching for her—for her light. Had it all been a dream? Was this truly my fate?

“Bullet! Let’s go!” Mags ordered.

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