Page 29 of Codename: Dustoff

There was more sitting on the tip of my tongue waiting to be spoken if I could find the nerve to say it. My phone chimed with an incoming text, interrupting our conversation. Normally, I’d ignore a text from anyone if I was in the middle of a conversation, but Staff Sergeant Jones had a special ring tone that only he had. Specifically, so that I knew if he called or texted I would be aware of it any time I was able to answer.

Jones: Just me, asking again to please consider coming.

“Who’s that?” Emmett asked, playfully trying to sneak a peek at my phone.

“It’s my old C.O.” I explained as I typed a reply, “He’s getting married in a few weeks and had been trying to get me to agree to go to New York for the wedding.”

“Why wouldn’t you?” Emmett asked.

“It’s complicated. Really complicated.”

“So tell me. Maybe I can help you uncomplicate it.”

With a sigh I set my phone down.

“There’s way too many pieces to be able to accurately uncomplicate things in the limited time we have before the party starts.”

“Amelia.” It was the first time I’d seen him look stern. Not a playful stern either. “Just because Henry said we did a good job, doesn’t mean I can’t still ‘check’ you.”

His attempt at stern lasted all of four seconds before melting into the flirty smile he usually wore. Seeing it reappear sent a giddy sensation all the way through my nervous system.

“I don’t want everyone staring at me.” Maybe if I went that route he’d absolve me from having to say the rest.

“People stare at you all the time, it’s never bugged you before.”

“Yes but I wasn’t walking into someone’s wedding when they did. All eyes should be on the bride and groom, not on the circus act.”

Being stared at was only half that concern. Did I wear a long dress so no one could see my leg, but risk tripping over it at some point during the night. Or did I wear a short dress, avoid tripping hazards but really draw all eyes to me as I walked around his reception.”

“I’m assuming that if he’s inviting you, you must have a pretty decent friendship?”

I nodded, accepting a glass of wine from our server, who also set down a charcuterie board for us to snack on.

“If it weren’t for him, I don’t think I’d be alive. I definitely wouldn’t have had access to the kind of care I’ve received, and certainly wouldn’t have been sent to Germany so quickly.”

I shook my head as if just that act alone would keep the rush of images at bay. I begged my subconscious to keep me in the moment, talking to Emmett, enjoying the wine, and chatting and getting to know one another. I fought against the onslaught of memories from Afghanistan with every ounce of my being, focusing instead on the way it felt to have Emmett’s lips on my mine, and how comforting it was when he wrapped his arm around my back.

“Hey,” I jolted at Emmett’s touch, “come back.”

His voice was as soft as his touch had been. The perfect pull back to actual reality. I opened my eyes and saw him sitting there, his compassionate eyes making a study of my face. He brought me back. I’d teetered on the edge, and he’d been my talisman.

“I think you should go. Actually, no thinking about it. Just do it. Book the plane ticket and go. Period. If he means that much to you and had that big of a hand in making sure you were okay, then you should be there for his big day.”

I huffed into my wine glass. In my head all of the reasons why I shouldn’t go flew to the front of my brain demanding they be taken into consideration. Just thinking of those reasons sent a tremble down my spine.

“Emmett, there’s a lot of baggage tied to my attending that wedding. The last thing I want to do is be a distraction on Jones’s big day. Me being there, would be a gigantic distraction. And not just because of my leg.”

“Whatever it is, Amelia, I’m certain none of it could overshadow the fact that this Jones guy is getting married. Everyone attending surely wants to be present for that.”

“Emmett, you don’t understand.”

I could feel my throat tightening. Felt the tickle in my throat as my lungs tried to protect themselves from all of the smoke. Hear Garcia crying out, praying in Spanish. I didn’t hear anything from the guys in the back—Dan, who they called Sunshine, and Ivan who they called Terrible. They’d died instantly, I’d found out later. They weren’t even in the Humvee anymore. The sheer power of that blast propelled them almost a full football field into the desert.

“Amelia,” his soft voice again, “stay with me.”

“Men died, Emmett. Good men. Men I barely knew because I’d just been assigned to Tenth Mountain eight weeks before that. I was a total newb. Their friends, who were on their second tour, all died, but I lived. Those guys going to Jonesy’s wedding, Bishop and Ram, Diesel, Hollywood, the whole unit—I’m a reminder of one of the most painful days for that unit. I promise you they don’t want to see me.”

Rather than say anything, he came around and sat next to me on my side of the booth. He wrapped his arm around my back and pulled me against his chest, tucking me under his chin. I melted into his hug. Every muscle in my body sighed feeling the strength of his chest and the surety of that embrace. I wanted that feeling more. To be surrounded by it. Every emotion that whispered in my psyche while held in his embrace: safety, comfort, compassion, and rapidly developing feelings of tenderness and—other words that I didn’t want to give voice to—I realized how badly I needed them. Craved them even. They were all the emotions that I’d been trained to suppress. Things I pushed down into the darkest crevices of my personality so as not to be perceived as weak, or incapable. But I did need them, and Emmett was beyond exceptional at providing them.

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