Page 54 of What I Should Have Known

Bernie’s grin immediately fell from his face. “No. We were successful. Target eliminated.”

Cold. Short. His words held malice that sliced as sharply as shears through wool.

There it was, that hollowness back in his gaze. So lost. So burdened.

“Maybe to whoever you report to. But I can only imagine…” I whispered, and his brows pulled together, tightly creasing.

“How do you do that?” he quietly asked.

“Do…what?” I scooted closer.

“Make me talk about shit. I don’t need you thinking I’m a monster, too. I already know I am. I would like just one person in my—”

“You’re not a monster, Bernie.”

He shook his head, knotting his jaw. “Ichosethis shit, Kat. Don’t you get that? I went to college. I could’ve done something else, but Ichoseto enlist. Ichoseto go through BUD/S. Ichosethis life. Duncan didn’t. He had no other option. It was just him and his mom after his dad bailed on them for some other chick. He grew up so fucking poor, he shouldn’t have survived, but somehow he did. The only out for him, the only way for him to have something better was the military. I didn’t. My parents sacrificed everything needed so I could go to college, and I chose—”

“You didn’t choose for him to die, Bernie. Some people are just meant to do the things that most of us can’t. You’re meant to do the things the rest of us can’t.” I raised a hand and placed it against his cheek.

He closed his eyes. “I’m no hero, Kat. I don’t think you get it.”

“Try me.”

“I like it. The chaos, the violence, I thrive in it. My head is quiet when I’m out there. I’m really good at it. I can pretty much build a bomb from almost anything, and I crave that. I need that adrenaline rush just to…just to feel something.” His words seared hot, like iron straight from the kiln.

“The bronc. Even castrating. Your impulsive tendencies. Sneaking into my room,” I whispered, realizing why he had so easily agreed to those things. It all made sense, and he slowly nodded.

“The thing is, people have said shit like ‘Oh, but I bet before you joined, you didn’t have those issues.’ But they’re wrong. Hell, other than me thinking a grenade is about to go off when someone does something assimple as clicking a pen now, I was impulsive before. I’ve always been this way.” He opened his eyes and exhaled.

“And… How do I fit into all of this?” I hesitantly asked.

He shook his head. “Don’t ask me something you don’t want an answer to.”

“But I do want an answer,” I quickly replied, and he dug his fingers into me.

“Please don’t take this as what it’s not, but you make my head quiet. You are—”

“A distraction.” I looked up at him, and his gaze met mine.

Slowly, he pulled his lips into a thin line and nodded.

I stared at him, unsure of what to think or feel. I wasn’t quite sure what to make of that.

A distraction. I was nothing more than something to keep his mind away from all of the insanity that was his life. I was a tool to keep the demons he constantly fought at bay. Only temporarily, though, it seemed.

“I already said that this can’t be—”

“More than whatever it is. I know,” I interjected.

He narrowed his gaze. “You keep interrupting me, you know that?”

I took a deep breath but kept my mouth shut. Despite what he said, despite the reiterated emphasizing that I wasn’t anything more than something to keep him from thinking about shit he hated, there was a truth hidden between his words I wasn’t sure he recognized. As if he had to say it more than once to remind himself that I wasn’t anything more to him.

“Don’t,” he whispered, as if reading my thoughts. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

“My hopes, or yours?” I replied quietly.

His jaw knotted as he tipped his head back and let his lashes flutter down over his eyes. “What happened to you not picking up on my stupid hints? Especially ones I’m making unintentionally that I’m not even sure I’m actually making?”

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