Page 88 of Wicked Duty
“I’m no good at any of this.” My hands tighten to fists. “And the reason why is…”
Years of anguish and emotional paralysis war with my thoughts. I’ve never spoken to anyone about this, not in detail. About the events that shaped me into who I am today.
She cocks her head, waiting for me to continue.
“During my eight years in the Irish Army Ranger Wing, I was part of a hostage extraction team. We were tasked with transporting a family out of a conflict zone. A diplomat, his wife, and their young daughter. Ella. We had to get them home safely, without incident, after extremists targeted them.”
Her eyes flicker with recognition. But when I shared this story a few days ago, I only told her the bare bones. “What does this have to do with you and me?”
I sit beside her, running a hand through my hair.
“Just listen.” With great difficulty, I soften the edge in my voice. “The diplomat’s wife was a flighty, self-centered woman who refused to take us seriously when we briefed her on the dangers the family faced. Maybe she underestimated the extremists’ threats, or maybe she overestimated our power to protect them. To this day, I don’t know.”
Years later, remorse and resentment still swirl through me.
Lucy’s hand nudges mine, but she stays quiet as I continue. “Against all advice and common sense, she snuck their daughter out of the compound where we were guarding them to go on a shopping trip in the nearest city. Some big bazaar. That’s where she and her daughter were snatched.”
A soft noise of understanding escapes Lucy’s lips. “What happened?”
“The extremists…” I swallow hard. “They got a note to the diplomat, promising to release his family if he surrendered himself. By the time we realized his intent, it was too late to stop him.”
Guilt presses down on me like gravity. I’m too much of a coward to risk seeing Lucy’s expression, so I drop my head. Though loathing and grief threaten to rip me apart, I force the words to the surface.
“I was assigned to reconnaissance during all this, and I identified what I thought was a clearer, faster extraction route than what was on the official plan. My commanding officer overruled me, insisting that we stick to protocol. And while we squabbled over it…”
My mouth dries, and my foot won’t stop bouncing inside my combat boot, restless and on edge.
“When we reached the family, the extremists had already executed the diplomat and critically wounded his wife. I managed to grab their daughter, but while carrying her to safety, we…we, uh…” A fist squeezes around my throat. “We gotcaught in the crossfire. I used my body to shield her, but in the end, I couldn’t prevent her from being hit.”
Lucy sucks in a sharp breath.
Even though I deserve every bit of her repulsion, I keep my face averted. If I meet her eyes, I’m afraid the words will stick in my throat.
The knot in my throat attempts to choke me. “Despite our best efforts, despite the bullets I took, despite the emergency medical attention, everyone died. The people we were meant to protect. All of them. Dead.”
I’ll never forget the sight of little Ella’s glazed eyes locked on a cloudless sky while her bullet-ridden body bled out in the dirt.
“Oh, Callum…” Lucy leans her shoulder against mine.
“After that failed mission, I guess you could say I became a little more nihilistic. I left the service wondering whether protecting others mattered at all.”
She scoffs under her breath. “Of course protecting others matters.”
“Me ‘protecting’ the Drakes didn’t save a single one of them.”
“But that wasn’t your fault, Callum.”
“Maybe not.” The muscles around my shoulder blades tighten. “But it shook my faith. In myself. In my abilities. In…everything.”
Lucy directs a steely stare at the concrete beneath our feet. “I remind you of that woman, don’t I? The diplomat’s wife.”
My pulse stills, then stutter-beats as I exhale.
There’s no sense in denying the truth. “You did. At first.”
“No wonder you were such an asshole about my job.”
“I misjudged you. I admit that.” When I shift, her gaze finds me. “And yeah, it’s possible that your reckless behavior in the name of fashion triggered me some, but?—”
