“Yet, I still get the distinct impression you don’t want to talk about it.”
He smiles faintly as he nods. “Men never like to talk about their feelings. Didn’t you know that?”
I can’t help but laugh because Jimmy had been just like that—always trying to be so tough. “Boy, do I ever know that.”
There’s a long moment of silence before he says, “I’m an introvert.”
“I can see that,” I admit.
“I was always the type who enjoyed being alone,” he continues. “I mean… I have friends and enjoy being around them, but I was never one for big social events, you know? I like small gatherings. Meaningful talk.”
I don’t say anything, because I sense there’s more to his story.
There’s a slight pause as his gaze drops to his hands, which are folded in his lap, before he looks back up. “From the moment I was taken—through beatings and torture and threats of death—the absolute worst thing was being alone. After they chained me up in that hole and left me for hours upon hours, day after day, month after month, with no meaningful interaction… it was beyond unbearable.”
“I can’t even imagine,” I whisper, the mere thought of Malik going through that has my heart shredding for him.
He takes in a deep breath, pasting on a confident smile. “One might think going through that would make me so appreciative of people that I’d just want to be around them all the time, right?”
I shrug, trying to lighten the moment. “Want to go to a rave or something?”
Malik barks out a laugh. “Fuck no. If anything, it reaffirmed I am, indeed, an introvert. It’s those deep, meaningful connections with people that are important. Like right now… sitting here talking to you.”
Something inside me swells with the knowledge Malik has recognized and validated the same bond I feel. Through our experience, grief, and processing, we’ve found something within each other. We’ve recognized we can rely on each other.
“I’m really glad you made it back,” I say candidly. “Not just for the obvious reasons. We all wanted you back. But you’re like a miracle to me… shining some light down on what’s been a very dark time for me. I know that might sound weird—”
“It doesn’t,” he assures me.
“But I treasure it,” I finish, giving him a smile. “I’ll always cherish it.”
“Me too,” he murmurs, leaning his head against the dresser again. “Me too.”CHAPTER 11MalikCorinne listens as I expel everything I’ve been thinking.
“This thing with Anna… it’s a problem. There’s been a shift. Nothing is quite right, yet… there are things that do feel very right with her. I’m about a million different ways fucked in the head as to what this all means. Yes, we do have a friendship. This weekend, I fucking sat in the nursery with her while she breastfed her daughter, and I honestly didn’t blink an eye at it. For that matter, neither did she. What in the fuck does that even mean? I mean, what pair of coworkers… friends…whatever we are… does that? And don’t even get me started on the fact that, despite having this crazy emotional bond with her, I can sometimes barely look at her without feeling immense guilt. I’m hiding a truth from her that would make her hate me, or, at the very least, be so severely disappointed in me it would kill our friendship. If only I’d made a different choice… Jimmy and Sal would still be alive.”
The gunfire was so unexpected that all we could do was operate on gut instinct while hoping the training we’d all received would be enough.
We were still half a click from the camp where our intel said the hostages were being held. Our contingent of rescuers was as top-notch as you could hope, with our small Jameson unit complemented with Australian and British Special Forces.
We were out in the open, though, exposed with very little brush or rock formations with which to take cover. I managed to find a slightly depressed area in the ground, almost a ditch of sorts, and I propped my rifle on top to take aim at the enemy I was having a hard time identifying. My night vision goggles were doing their job, but bullets seemed to be flying in from everywhere.
I saw the British unit where they were pinned down and returning fire to the west… seeming to hold their own.
The Aussies were about twenty meters to my left, also fully exposed and flattened to the ground.
Glancing around wildly, I finally located Jimmy and Sal, who had also found a fortuitous depression in the landscape, on which they propped their rifles on the ledge to mimic me. They seemed secure for the moment, but I couldn’t locate Tank anywhere.
Was he with the Brits? The Aussies?
Fuck.
Needing to decide where I could provide the best support for return fire, it seemed to me the Brits were in the most perilous position, as they were out in the open and closest to the firefight. Pointing my gun in that direction, I started to return cover fire to give them the opportunity to bug out. All of this happened in mere seconds.