I shake my head.
“We were on patrol. Lots of insurgents all around us. An IED exploded, and he…fuck.”
There is a wall in my head that is threatening to crumble. Behind it are images of torn flesh and fragments of bone. There’s a memory of gathering pieces together…trying to find those parts that were missing…
“No,” I finally say. “He didn’t come back.”
There’s more to the story—much more. Right after that, shit happened that I could never talk about, not even now. Some secrets are best left buried. Even though it involves our current situation, I don’t think it matters anymore.
“I shut down after that,” I tell her. “I became…emotionally closed. Just turned it all off. It worked. I completed my tour and went on to do another one after that. Took some shrapnel during the last one. They decided I’d done enough at that point and kicked me out. The thing is, after I was discharged, I couldn’t turn that part of me back on.”
It’s close enough to the truth. Hannah doesn’t ask questions. She just waits patiently for me to continue.
“Before I got into security, I did nothing for two years. I got a good pension from the army, and I lived off of that. Spent way too much time in bars. Had a lot of one-night-stands, but if a woman actually seemed interested in me…well, I couldn’t handle that. I’d just stop talking to her. My sister would call to try to get together with me, but I always found some excuse. She finally stopped trying. Even once I started escorting executives and shit around, that didn’t change much. I did my job, collected a paycheck, but none of it really mattered.”
I remember sitting alone in my apartment between assignments, a glass of whiskey sitting on the table in front of me, right next to the bottle. I remember staring at the television but never actually watching a single show. I remember my phone ringing, glancing at the screen, and never answering the call.
“You changed all of that,” I tell her. “I never thought I’d be able to turn that side of me back on, but with you, it was possible. I hadn’t cared about anything since that happened, and I didn’t think I ever would again.”
“I was already impressed with you before I ever met you,” I say. “I told you that before. But when I stitched up your leg—no pain meds or anything—shit, Hannah. I’ve never known anyone like you. Every time I turn around, you’re surprising me. Everything you’ve been through over these past months, and even now, you’re trying to comfort me over something that happened five years ago.”
I close my eyes for a moment. The words are on the tip of my tongue. They want to come out, but I have no idea what will happen once I say them. I decide to take the leap.
“I’m in love with you, Hannah. I can’t believe I’m fucking saying that, but I’m in love with you.”
I feel her hand on the side of my face, and I open my eyes to look at her. She breaks into a big smile.
“I love you, too, Falk.”
Capturing her mouth with mine, I try to pour everything I feel for her into a single kiss. Any words I use will be inadequate, so I try to show her with my lips and hands. I’m still terrified of doing something wrong, but I know I can’t hesitate. I want her too much.
“I need you,” I whisper against her lips. “I need you so much.”
“Please, Falk,” she whispers back. “Please don’t wait any more.”
I kiss her again as I reach down and grab the bottom of her shirt. I carefully pull it around her belly, break the kiss, and take it off. Hannah grabs my shirt and does the same, then runs her fingertips over my shoulders and chest. I stand quickly, release my belt and drop my shorts and boxers to the floor. I step out of them without ceremony and then help Hannah get her sweats and panties off.
I pull her down to the bed and lie down beside her, running my hands over her skin. Most of the bruises have faded to yellow, but as I brush one, I get concerned.
“Hannah…”
“Don’t, Falk,” she says. She places her hand over mine, covering both it and the bruise beneath. “I know what you’re thinking, and you have to stop.”
“I just…I can’t imagine what you went through,” I say. “It tears me up when I see that. I’m the reason they got to you.”
“You’re the reason I survived,” she says, correcting me. “If it weren’t for you, I couldn’t have endured it.”
“But…you thought I was dead.”
She nods and closes her eyes. She grips my hand tightly with her fingers as she speaks.
“Every time they…every time someone came for me, I just closed my eyes and thought about you holding me. I thought about your arms around me, wrapping me up and keeping me warm. I didn’t think about what was happening—I only thought about you.”
“I’m not sure that makes me feel any better.”
“Falk…” Hannah sits up, places her free hand on her face, and lets out a long sigh. “I don’t want to go over this all the time.
I don’t want to have to think about it anymore. I need you. I need to feel your hands on me. I need to feel your cock inside of me. I need you to…to…”