“Yes, that’s him. He was my partner. Snipers work in pairs. Being with Chris…it was the closest I felt to being home. He was like a brother.”
“Was.”
He couldn’t look at her. “Yes, was. He was killed the day I was wounded.”
He expected sympathy, but instead she simply said, “I’m sorry.”
Shannyn angled her chair so she could see him and rested her arms on her knees, inviting him to continue. “Tell me.”
A muscle in his jaw twitched, moving the tattoo on his cheek. The moment of fun, the touch of her fingers on his skin as she applied the sticker was far removed from their conversation now. The silence drew out for several beats.
“We were on assignment, nearly a year ago now. It was so hot it was like the sun had teeth. We were behind a knoll, over a mile from a village.”
“Where?”
He chanced a look in her eyes before his gaze skittered away. “It doesn’t matter where.”
She translated it easily. “Covert.”
“We waited over three hours for our mark to be in position. Chris was the spotter, I was the shooter.”
Again he paused, taking his time, deciding what to tell. “When it was done, we hiked back to our rendezvous point and met up with the convoy that was to take us to the airfield.”
He stopped and at his silence, she prodded gently, “What happened?”
He stared at a point somewhere past the back fence of the yard. “It had taken longer than we expected. There were…children involved. Children, Shan.”
His haunted eyes probed hers, asking her to understand. “There were children there, holding guns. What kind of person gives a child a gun and gives them the burden of killing another human being?”
“I don’t know.”
He shook his head, as if he still couldn’t believe it. “So we waited until the perfect time. But our delay meant the convoy was late getting out. I convinced them to take a shortcut, a different route. Chris and I were in the first vehicle, joking and laughing when we hit an IED.”
The picture threatened to take over again, but he focused on her eyes, determined to go on with the story. “You have to understand…an Iltis is a light vehicle. It isn’t built to withstand that sort of blast. We were thrown clear. The driver and the private beside him were wounded. My thigh was shattered, but Chris…Chris was dead.”
When she looked at him his eyes were filled with unshed tears. What she saw inside the shimmering depths cut her deeply. It wasn’t just the loss of his best friend. The wound went so much deeper than simple grief. There was blame, regret, all pointed directly at himself.
“Seconds before, we’d been joking about his fiancé finding someone else. And because I insisted on a shortcut, he’s gone. If I hadn’t suggested that route, we never would have hit that IED and we’d both still be out there. My arrogance and impatience cost him his life.”
Shannyn took her time answering, because she knew she had to get the words right. Oh, it was all so clear to her now. She could tell he was wearing guilt like a heavy shroud, carrying its weight every day. Feeling like he’d failed not only his friend but himself.
Quiet settled over the deck and birds sang. Shannyn wondered if birds still chirped in the places he’d been. How difficult it must be for him to come back to a place with such simple pleasures, to people who understood nothing of what he’d faced. She was one of those people. The least she could do was try.
Again she reached over and took his hand in hers.
“You didn’t kill him, Jonas. It wasn’t your fault.”
“But it was. It was my decision. I wanted us to get a move on, get to the airfield and get out.”
“And would there have been any guarantees that nothing would have happened if you’d gone the other way? Done things differently? Who’s to say there wouldn’t have been someone waiting to ambush you? The news is full of stories like that.”
He shook his head stubbornly. “That’s not the point. The point is, it was my decision, I made it, and now he’s dead.”
“You make it sound like you pulled the trigger.”
“In a way, I did.”
She grabbed his other hand in her and squeezed. “You look at me.”