Page 74 of Coincidentally Kismet

Similar to how dramatic music plays in a suspenseful movie right before the killer appears, these sounds are foreboding. We aren’t welcome where we’re headed. My instincts are telling me this mission is not going to go well. I’m usually confident, calm, cool under pressure, but this feels off. Something isn’t right. Maybe it’s Cam and how I left things, or maybe it’s whatever we are about to face. Shivers rack my body. This is bad. Really bad.

Smith shoots me a look from across the plane, where he’s sprawled out on his bedroll. He’s lying under one of two overhead lights, which offers just enough brightness for me to make out what he’s trying to convey: He feels it too. I don’t need to talk to him to know he’s nervous. Subliminally, with one look and a nod, I tell Smith I get it, but also to fix his face so the others don’t catch on.

We are leaders on this team. We have a responsibility to keep it together. What I can’t figure out is why it all feels different this time. There isn’t anything special about this mission compared to the last. If anything, it’s too familiar, yet it seems to carry more weight than before. Maybe it’s Thatch. Knowing what he went through, being back here without him. Or maybe it’s that I have more to lose. Amy is counting on me, but Cam is everything. Not knowing if I’ll see her again...it’s unbearable.

The lights shut off, indicating we’re close. Next, it’s the engines. The pilots turn them to half power as we start a stealth descent. This is our cue to get back in our seats. We circle our destination slowly as we make our way back to our seats, carefully but quickly, securing our gear along the way.

The engines cut off and a silent darkness overtakes the plane. Now all I can hear are the sounds of small arms bullets clinking and clanking as the enemy fires upon us. The circling continuesand suddenly stops. We are in a free-falling descent; based on the turbulence, it’s going to be a rough landing.

Everything is vibrating, shaking from the movement of air carrying us down. The men around me are vibrating too. Some with anticipation and some with angst, like caged animals. It’s a charged environment.

Our wheels touch down in a rough and bumpy impact with the makeshift runway. We made it. Now the work begins. I have one goal—survive.

CHAPTER 33

CAM

“I CAN DO IT WITH A BROKEN HEART” - TAYLOR SWIFT

Elliott—the perfect companion to any breakup, the shoulder I’ve cried on literally my entire life, and also the one single solitary person who gets me, all of me. I don’t have to edit myself to present some perfect version; he meets me where I am, figuratively and literally, no matter what.

I won’t claim he always reserves judgment, because let’s be honest, if your siblings don’t offer up some much-needed harsh reality checks at times, then who will. I heard once that your siblings are the most important people in your life because you have them the longest. Your parents eventually die—I know, cold but true—and your significant other comes too late, often missing the first twenty plus years of your life.

For me, Elliott is the one true constant. Sure, he’s busy a lot of the time, but when it really counts, he shows up. Like now. He didn’t even know this thing with Will was about to blow up, but he came anyway. Originally, he came for selfish reasons. His idiot ex cheated on him and he needed to nurse his own heartbreak, yet instead of wallowing he chose to spend time withme. He picked me when he could have gone a million other places. He showed up to a place where he anticipated being surrounded by disgustingly happy people, because those people included me.

I’m not an expert on soulmates, but I believe your siblings can be a sort of soulmate. For sure, the one person you’re most tightly bonded with, the ride-or-die kind.

Despite his own broken heart, my brother’s been the only thing holding me together the past three days. Showering, leaving my house, and eating are things he has thrust upon me against my will. A small, maybe microscopic, part of me is thankful.

Daveed gave me the week off to “get my adorable head on straight,” which was mildly offensive and also extremely generous. Being relieved from the salon is lifesaving; dealing with people right now would be the emotional equivalent to nails on a chalkboard.

I still can’t believe Will left without saying a word. Trusting in what we had wasn’t easy for me and he knew that. Past experience told me not to fall for him a second time around, and yet head over heels I went.

Why is it always like this with love? You go about life minding your own business and then—boom. Out of nowhere, Cupid hits you with his arrow, and all sense of self-preservation flies out the window.I freaking knew better!Now I’m left with nothing, no explanation, no air in my lungs, struggling to breathe without him.

It’s safe to say I’m equal parts sad and angry. Sad because it felt different this time, more mature. It felt like this could be the forever kind of love I’ve longed for. Angry because it’s just plain rude. Leaving for deployment without a goodbye is the ultimate form of ghosting, I’ve decided.

Gossip magazines should make a whole section on the best ways to ghost someone. This would top every list because you can’t even do the crazy ex thing and drive past their house or haunt their favorite bar. He’s just gone—totally and completely off the grid.

On top of all this, part of me feels like a shitty sister. Elliott came for his own escape of sorts. He finally dumps the no-good girlfriend, and he has to come here to deal with my sad-sack ass. Taking him out would make us both feel better, I’m just not sure I can make it more than twenty minutes without a complete breakdown.

To top it off, Bri’s been calling me nonstop. I didn’t know it was her at first. But a slew of text messages confirmed it since I inevitably lost the business card she gave me. Answering her calls and pouring my pitiful loss out to her seems selfish. What kind of person would I be if I complained to the widow about being dumped? Logically, ignoring her forever isn’t an option, since Lo is likely to still see her when Smith returns. But I need more time to lick my wounds.

“Hey, how’s my favorite roomie doing?” Lo asks as she plops herself entirely too close for comfort on my bed.

“Ughhh . . . just go away.” I shove at her to move.

“No! You need to get your ass up. I know you’re heartbroken, and, trust me, I will be the first in line to kick Will’s ass when the guys get back, but enough wallowing. I know you’re not going to let a man get you down like this. You are beautiful and smart and this is his loss.”

Doesn’t she know that my heart isn’t mine anymore? Will ripped it out of my chest and took it to God knows where, strapped on his freaking back like an afterthought.

“Lo, seriously? How would you feel if you were me?”

“I’d be sad but more furious than anything. I’d get my butt out of bed and hit the bar. You need to drink like a fish and flaunteverything you got until the name Will is just someone you used to know.”

“You would not do that, and we both know it.” I give her my sternest look; she’s being a complete hypocrite right now. “You would cry and wallow for weeks and then one day be miraculously all better and ready to make out with any available stunner on girls’ night out.”

“Okay, fine...” Her hands are in the air in surrender. “You’re right! The difference is that in this case, you don’t even know if he actually dumped you. For all we know, something came up and he couldn’t contact you. Crazy things happen every day, Cameron. Also, there’s Elliott . . .he’s only here for two more days, and I gotta be honest, I’m tired of being the head of the entertainment committee.”

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