That hurts.
I let him die.
I grab them from her hand and inhale as I drop them down in my palm. “I’m sorry,” I tell her.
She frowns. “For what?”
“For him not being here. It’s my fault.”
She shakes her head. “Jace, you can’t think that. All this time? You’ve been thinking this is your fault?”
“I know it is.”
Hours I’ve been here. I keep waking up and passing back out. But I finally hear something else besides Dari. “Anyone in here?” I hear one of my guys yell out.
“Here!” I yell. Footsteps run over to where I am buried under cement rubble. With heavy grunts, they pull pieces off of me. I’m beat up, I can feel, as they lighten the load over me. And once sunlight slices through, I wince.
“Name?” one of them says.
“Grant.” I try to move, but I’m fucking weak.
“We got you. Is anything broken?”
“Everything?” I question with a chuckle.
“Good to see you still have your humor. Get a stretcher over here.”
Painfully, I’m lifted onto the stretcher. “Where are my guys?” I ask.
One of the men looks at me. “Sir, they’re all gone.”
“Gone? You mean they’ve already been rescued?”
The two guys look at each other, and then I remember. I stop talking as it all comes back to me.
“Oh fuck,” I choke.
“You’re the only one, Grant.”
“When I got to the medical tent, they told me I had a concussion. I kept forgetting what happened, and then I’d have to relive it all over again.
“I was trapped under cement, and Rocket was dying. I could have yelled. I could have gotten out somehow and shot those motherfuckers.” I run a hand over my face.
“Jace, look at me.”
I look up at the woman who’s carrying a baby that will never see its father.
And that guilt crushes me.
“Blake wanted to fight for his country. He chose that life, knowing it could kill him. You had nothing to do with that.
“The last thing he would want is you sitting around blaming yourself.”
I nod. “You’re right. He would tell me to stop being a pussy and get my shit together.”
She laughs. “He had such a dirty mouth.”
I chuckle.