A Lover's Lament

“I’m good, Sarge,” he says through gritted teeth. I can tell by the way he’s shifting on his feet that he wants nothing more than to get the hell away from me.

“Was it the car bomb? The girl?” Nostrils flared, he sucks in a sharp breath. I’m pushing him, I know it, but this is what he needs. “Was it the body? All of it?” I ask.

“I said I’m good, Sarge!” His eyes snap to mine, hard and unyielding, completely inconsistent with the tears that are pushing against the confines of his lashes. He’s like a child trying desperately to be a man, and I want to take him in my arms just like I would a child. But that’s not what we do here …

“Thomas, we will stand here all fucking night if that’s what it takes to get you to talk. I’ll have you know I was in a three-day firefight with no sleep while you were still a fucking senior in high school, so you don’t wanna have that contest with me. Now, tell me what’s on your mind.”

He rubs at the tears with his palms, but whatever is going through his head must be too much—too powerful. I watch as his chest heaves several times. When he finally looks up, his glassy eyes find the sky, and for a moment I see peace. Only for a moment. And then he looks to me and shakes his head.

“It’s not the body. I could give two fucks about that motherfucker. I back the team in this shit one hundred percent, just like we agreed before we got here.”

“So, what is it?” I ask, already knowing the answer. Like most of us here, it’s not any one thing, just a big pile of bullshit.

“The girl. The IPs. Fucking everything, man. I thought I wanted this, I really did. But if we lose one more fucking guy—” Thomas cuts himself off, tears welling in his eyes once again. I can tell he wants to let it all out, but he can’t in front of me. He won’t. It’s the infantry way … and sometimes I hate it. “I don’t know how I’m gonna hang.” His voice quivers with each word as if he wishes for anything but for them to escape. He drops his head, embarrassed.

“You’re gonna fucking hang, Thomas. You know why?” I don’t give him time to respond. “Because of the other one hundred and fifty hard dick motherfuckers in those tents.” I jab a finger in the direction where they’re all sleeping. “You will keep fighting, because they would keep fighting for you. You think I don’t feel what you feel? I do, man. Every. Fucking. Day.” Stepping forward, I wrap my hand around the nape of his neck and pull his face closer to mine. “I need you to fight for me. I need you to fight for them. I need you to make sure these guys get home. This is what we signed up for, and I’ll be God-fucking-damned if I’m gonna let you quit on me now. You’re a fucking warrior, you hear me?” His eyes have strayed from mine, back to the ground, so I tighten my grip on his neck. “Look at me!”

When he does, my heart clenches at the tears now falling freely down his cheeks.

“Can you find a way to get through this? We have your back, brother. We just need you to have ours. Now, do you?”

“Roger, Sarge,” he says, his voice barely audible.

“I can’t hear you, Thomas. Do you have our backs until we get out of here? That’s all I’m asking.”

Thomas looks me in the eyes, wipes away his tears and str

aightens his back. “I will always have your back, Sergeant.”

“Good. Now get some fucking sleep. I know you need it.” I pull him in close and throw one arm around his shoulders before letting him go and pushing him toward the tents. He stumbles a bit but catches himself, and I see a grin pull at the corner of his mouth.

Lighting another cigarette, I watch him walk inside his tent, and when I’m certain he’s gone and no one else is around, my shoulders slump forward, my head hanging low, and I give in to my own pain. The tears come quickly, running down my face before being absorbed by my uniform. There’s rust forming on my armor.

“Breathe Again”—Sara Bareilles

“HI, KATIE.” SEAN BENDS DOWN and kisses me sweetly on the cheek. “I haven’t seen you in a while. You’re looking good.”

“Hey!” Maggie protests, slapping his arm playfully. “What am I, chopped liver?”

“Damn it, woman,” he laughs, rubbing at his arm. “No slapping. What did I tell you about that?”

“That it’s for the bedroom,” Maggie croons, pushing from the chair, stepping directly into Sean’s arms. He scoops her up and tosses her over his shoulder. Maggie squeals, reaching to me for help, but I bat her hand away, laughing along at their playful antics. “Where are you taking me?” she says as Sean turns to walk down the hall.

“Where else? To the bedroom.”

“We have company,” she screeches, wriggling around, trying to break free.

“Damn.” Lowering Maggie to the floor, he keeps a firm hand on her waist until she has her footing and then backs her against the wall. An image of Devin gripping my hip as he slams into me pops in my head, and I blink my eyes several times. Where the hell did that come from?

“I thought I was going to get away with it.” Sean’s voice is low and gravelly, his lips grazing Maggie’s when he talks.

I sit, stunned silent by the amount of sexual energy coursing through the room. Looking away is probably the polite thing to do, but for some reason I can’t. The chemistry between these two is fucking hot. It’s palpable. It’s exactly what I want. My eyes follow Sean’s hands as they slide up her body. He cups her neck, pulling her mouth to his, but instead of kissing her sweetly like I expect him to do, he devours her, plunging his tongue into her mouth. They’re instantly dueling for power.

“You taste so fucking good, Katie.” Devin’s eyes, shining with lust, are pinning me to the bed, holding me hostage.

The memory slams into me so fast that I don’t see it coming, but I’m quickly drawn back to the present when the faint sound of moaning catches my attention.

My jaw drops at the sight of Maggie and Sean. Their hands are everywhere, exploring places that they certainly shouldn’t be exploring in the presence of another human being. I glance away, my eyes bouncing around the room, but maybe I’m a voyeur at heart because curiosity gets the best of me, and I can’t help but look at them.