Truly Madly Deeply Boxed Set

His words hit her like a blast of cold air, but she forced herself to remain rational, to let the professional part of her look in. She recognized his pain and as a trained psychologist realized he was lashing out at the only available person. It didn’t make his accusations hurt less, but she cared enough to take the brunt of his anger and direct it toward helping him heal.

“You’re wrong, Mike. If I didn’t trust you, we wouldn’t be here now.”

He ran shaking fingers through his already disheveled hair. “It’s not something you want to know.” He swung his legs over the bed and stood, oblivious to his state of undress.

She allowed herself a moment to drink in the sight of his naked body before grounding her thoughts. “If it affects you, I need to know. But I’m not what’s important now. You are, and you need to talk. Whatever it is, I can handle it.”

He stood at the window, gazing into the darkness. “My last assignment,” he said at last. “Rather, my last uncompleted assignment.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’d hitched a ride back from the countryside with a guy in a Jeep. For a while we were the only ones on the road, but as we neared civilization, a bus pulled in front of us.” His hands gripped the windowsill. “Must have made for a bigger target than a small Jeep, because mortar fire hit the back tires and sent the damn thing careening down the side of a ravine.”

He paused, and Carly waited for him to continue. “I jumped out of my seat before the guy could stop. By the time I reached the bus, I heard the screams and smelled gas.” His hand went to his shoulder and he worked the muscles with his fingers. Even from her distance on the bed, she could see how brutally he clutched at his arm.

She gripped the bedsheet, watching as he wrestled with the demons that plagued him.

“We knew we didn’t have much time, but we had to get as many out as we could before the tank exploded. We pried open the bus door. Most of the people up front had taken a direct hit. They didn’t make it.” His voice shook, but he continued. “Most were women. In the end, we managed to pull a bunch of young kids from the bus and get them up the hill. When the explosion hit, I had one kid hanging from my neck screaming for his mother.”

She swallowed, but the lump in her throat remained. And no matter how much she wanted to comfort Mike, the right words wouldn’t come.

“I spent the next few weeks trying to track down this kid’s father. Turns out he’d already been killed. The crash orphaned most of those kids.”

Just like Mike. Oh, God. In a daze, she rose and walked up behind him, placing a hand on the shoulder he’d been abusing. “And this?” she asked softly. She stilled his hand beneath hers.

“Ripped open some muscle getting to the back of the bus.”

She dropped a kiss on his shoulder, her lips coming in contact with new scar tissue. Why hadn’t she noticed it earlier? “It must have been awful.”

“Want to know the worst part? My damned boss was furious that I hadn’t taken pictures. These kids just had their worlds ripped apart and he wanted exclusive photos.” He shook his head in disgust. “Abandoned children and he wanted headlines.”

“Mike...”

“But you know what? He was right. It was my job and I didn’t do it. I couldn’t. Any more than I could go back afterward.” He dropped his head lower, leaning against the window. “All those kids...”

No wonder he was back in the States covering fluff topics like summer hot spots.

“Mike.” She turned him toward her. In his tortured face she saw how difficult the telling had been. Even worse was that he had lived alone with the pain all these months.

“Orphaned isn’t the same as abandoned,” she whispered. “There’s a difference. Not much, I’ll admit, but there is a difference.”

“Tell that to those kids whose parents are gone.” He paused. “Forever.”

Her heart broke for the little boy he had been. “Those parents didn’t walk out on their kids. They were taken by a cruel twist of fate. That may not seem to make a difference now, but in the long run, the knowledge will ease the pain.”

As she said the words, she recognized the irony. In the long run, for Mike, the distinction had meant little. “How long have you had these dreams?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Since the accident.”

“I see.” A period of hell, of equating his own situation with those of the children, of beating himself up for not getting hit instead, for not doing his job. What would it take to vanquish his demons?

The answer, she knew, lay in their parting. He had to return to the profession he loved and prove to himself that he could face his past and his present.

She didn’t fit into the equation. Knowing Mike’s strength of character, the separation would come much sooner than she had anticipated. He’d be doing he

r a favor, but right now it didn’t feel like one.

“Running isn’t the answer. You have to fight this.” Even as she said the words, she knew she was pushing him away. Tears threatened and she closed her eyes against them.