Page 33 of Deadly Strain

“I’d become what he wanted...tough.”

What a sad, awful way to grow up. Yet, here he was, healthy, strong, and resilient. “What happened then?”

“On my eighteenth birthday I signed up for the army. I haven’t talked to him since.”

“Has he tried to communicate with you?”

“He did at first. He doesn’t anymore.”

“Well, that just sucks.” She released a breath and made a decision. Rationally, she knew he was safe and no threat to her, even if the primitive part of her brain had been programmed by circumstances to protect herself emotionally by whatever means necessary. The only way to reprogram herself was to leave her comfort zone.

Ever since the IED explosion, she’d stayed away from making emotional connections with people. She’d loosened up enough to befriend Sharp and the other men on the A-Team, but it had happened only because they’d ended up training together for nearly a year. Anyone else, she’d kept at arm’s length.

Change of plan. She was going to put herself in his hands. Again.

“Okay. Right.” She swallowed hard, met his gaze and held it. “Here’s who you are to me: my friend, my partner, and the one man I trust. I can’t promise I won’t freak out again, because I just did, but I know you’d never hurt me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

There was a long silence.

“So,” he said, drawing out the word. “Are you ready to talk?”

She tried, she even opened her mouth, but admitting she’d made mistakes that resulted in the death of a fellow soldier, no matter the circumstances, was more than she could do. “Could we compromise? Could we talk about it after I’ve had a chance to...” She glanced around at the cave, at the two of them bloodied, dirty and tired. “Wrap my head around everything?”

He considered her for a long moment. “Yeah, I think I can agree to that.”

Relief was a balm on her frayed nerve endings.

“Next question. Are you going to finish taking off your pants?”

She blinked. “You...are the weirdest guy. It’s a good thing you’re my friend or I’d have to—”

“Kill me?” he finished for her.

“I can’t joke about that right now.” The young soldier’s dead face flashed across her vision. Followed closely by the sight of the bodies of the five men she’d shot today. Other memories surfaced. Memories she wished she could forget. “I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to joke about it.”

“Fair enough. You look like you’ve got your groove back, so I’ll lay off the jokes, but I reserve the right to go back to being funny if you lose it again.”

She blinked away sudden tears. “I did lose it, didn’t I?”

He shrugged, as if it was all good. “It’s been a pretty shitty day.”

That’s when she noticed he had tear tracks running down his face. “Did you lose it too?”

He snorted. “You’d know if I’d lost it. I prefer something a little more...physical.”

***

Grace sucked in a breath, but responded with a shaky smile. “Right, the martial arts stuff. What do you do to blow off steam, break a bunch of boards?”

She looked so confused, uncertain and shocked, Sharp had to force himself not to take her in his arms and hold her until the sorrow left her face. He wanted to touch her again, to put his hands on her and watch the pleasure make her light up like a fucking Christmas tree again.

“Punching bag is more my style. Sometimes I spar with another one of the guys. Rasker...” The rage he normally kept locked down threatened to explode. He had to forcibly stuff it down into the mental prison he’d constructed back when he was a kid. Everything that went in there never came out.

“Rasker and I liked to keep our skills sharp.”

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