Page 69 of A Secret and a Lie

Hale can be a bullshitter, but something about his words, despitehis light tone, makes me think he’s not fucking around. Shifting my gaze to follow his line of sight, I take in the northern landscape but don’t find anything.

“I’ll do my best, Major,” Suarez replies, making no move to swipe at the beads of sweat bubbling on the back of his neck.

Tension fills every atom in the air around us, thickening until it’s a hazy cloud. Next to me, I watch as Drake’s thumb hovers over the safety on his rifle, his index finger poised to pull the trigger.

Fuck, I don’t want to die in Helmand Province. I want to go out in my sleep, curled up to my wife of seventy fucking years. I don’t want to bleed out on the dirt in a foreign country. But I will.

I’d do far more than die for any of these guys here.

The strap of my helmet chafes against the underside of my chin irritatingly. I don’t move to adjust it, but I appreciate the momentary distraction. Giving Suarez my back, I scan my surroundings through squinted eyes, still coming up empty, but I canfeelthe eyes on us.

“Done,” Suarez announces, and the relief rippling through all of us is palpable.

“Pack it up, boys. Let’s get thefuckout of here,” Hale announces, and there are grunts of assent all around.

Riding shotgun next to Vesper, I grit my teeth as he takes the turn too tight, and the Humvee nearly fucking topples. I notice Vesper’s jaw tic, flexing against the strap of his helmet, and I can tell the stress is weighing on him. If we weren’t trying to get the hell out of here, I’d offer to swap with him.

“Goddamnit, Vesper,”Hale barks. “You’ll kill us before the insurgents do driving like that.”

Hale has been on the phone with command for the last half hour, trying to make them understand what we’re dealing with. Based on the parts I overheard, it’s not going well, and the intel is shit.

Now that we have a break, I duck out of the tent and head to the barracks, desperate to hear her sugary voice again.

With the satellite phone in hand, I fire up the computer, log in and scroll back to find her number once more.

My dry throat seems to expand as I type in each digit much like it did the first time I called her. Lifting the phone to my ear, it rings.

“Hi,” she chirps, and relief swarms me, and even fuzzy, the sound of her voice is like a life raft in the vast ocean of sand and blood I’ve been drowning in. “How are you?”

“Better now that I’m talking to you,” I reply honestly, but keep my tone light. “I missed you.”

She giggles, but it sounds a little stilted, but that might just be the connection. “We talked four days ago.”

“Is that your way of telling me you didn’t miss me?” I tease. I didn’t anticipate finding myself completely infatuated with a woman this year, but this online friendship—relationship?—has breathed new life into me. If she’d turned out to be an old man, I might’ve accepted that I was obsessed with someone geriatric. But I’m glad I don’t have to. “You wound me.”

She laughs, the sound sweet like a heavily frosted cake. “Don’t put those words in my mouth.”

I part my lips, but spotty laughter bursts through the phone, interrupting me.I want to hear that sound again. And again.“Don’t say it.”

“Say what?” I feign ignorance.

“That you’d rather put something else in my mouth.”

I can hear her smile, and it broadens my own.

That’s exactly what I was going to say.“I would never.”

“Uh-huh,” she muses. I imagine her gnawing on her bottom lip, or maybe grinning. It sounds like her smile would stop traffic. “I know better than to think you can ever take the boy out of the man.”

Not only is she undeniably a woman, her voice sweet and feminine like the fragrant petals of a flower, but she’s funny and nice, too. I feel as though I hit the jackpot. I don’t even care what she looks like; I’m positive that I’ll find her attractive.

“What are you doingright now?”

“I have plans tonight and I’m trying to decide between a red dress and a black one. What about you?”

“Red, definitely red,” I assert. I bet she looks sexy as fuck no matter what she’s wearing, though. I wish I was there. I wish I was the one she was dressing up to go out with. “I’m in the barracks. Everyone else is in the mess hall, eating some version of shit.”

She titters softly. “You really hate the food there.”