Page 87 of Steel Vengeance

“I’m sorry.”

He’d lost a lot of people in his life, she realized. She supposed it was common in his line of work. Still, it couldn’t be easy.

And then losing his wife. How tragic.

“Was that when you got ambushed?” she asked, remembering the story.

He nodded, the SUV continuing to eat up the miles.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“It’s fine.” He glanced at the clock on the dashboard. “We’ve got fourteen hours to go. Might as well talk about something.”

She smiled.

He took a deep breath. “We were on a routine mission in Afghanistan, hiking through a mountain pass, when rebel militia ambushed us. One minute, we were marching along the path, the next, we were in a full-on firefight.” His grip on the steering wheel tightened.

She wanted to reach out, put a hand on his thigh to comfort him, but it felt too intimate, so she didn’t move.

"There was no cover," he said, his voice hollow, like he was still in that moment. "Rick went down first, mowed down by machine gun fire. Then Joe… he got hit too."

“He was Pat’s son?”

“Yeah, took a bullet to the leg. Blade and I tried to help him, but they got him in the gut and chest. He died in Blade’s arms.”

She could picture it now—a serene mountain pass ripped apart by gunfire, her heart aching as she imagined Stitch in the middle of it. “What did you do?” she whispered.

He exhaled slowly. “We had to leave them behind. There was nothing we could do. Blade, Chris, and I split up, hoping we’d be less of a target if we scattered.” His expression darkened. “Chris didn’t make it either. Only Blade and I got out.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Blade took it hard,” Stitch said, glancing briefly in the rearview mirror at his sleeping friend. “He was leading the op.”

She followed his gaze. “It wasn’t his fault though, was it?”

“No.” His jaw clenched. “Our translator betrayed us. The Taliban got to him. Threatened his family. He gave up our location, and Blade felt like he should’ve seen it coming. Like he could’ve prevented it.”

“How could he? There’s no way he could’ve known,” she said, shaking her head.

Stitch shrugged, a haunted look crossing his face. “Doesn’t change the fact that good men died. After that, I just... couldn’t go back. It was like something died inside me too.”

She swallowed hard. Seeing your brothers gunned down, barely making it out alive—it wasn’t something you could just move past.

“Didn’t they look for you?” she asked softly. She knew how serious it was to vanish from a unit, especially in a war zone.

He hesitated, then nodded. “I made it to the RV point. The chopper was waiting. I saw it, but I couldn’t get on. I hid and watched while Blade boarded. They waited as long as they could, then flew back without me. They thought I was dead.”

““You were in shock,” she said gently. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I was messed up, yeah,” he admitted, eyes still on the road. “Wandered the mountains for days until I found a village. We’d done a goodwill mission there the year before. Soraya’s family took me in.”

“She blinked. “Blade found you though, right?”

He nodded. “Yeah, eventually. But he kept quiet. He knew if anyone found out I was alive, I’d be in deep shit. So, he let everyone believe I was gone. I didn’t exactly argue.”

“Why not? You could’ve gone back.”

His lips pressed into a thin line. “At the time, I couldn’t face it. I wasn’t ready. By the time I came to my senses, it was too late. Easier to stay ‘dead.’”

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