He paused for a few seconds and sucked in a long breath. "He died on that bed a day later without ever regaining consciousness. I sat with him the whole time, talking, praying, and he just slipped away."
His eyes refocused on me. "I really do get it, that guilt. What if I'd sent him a minute later? Or not at all? Would we both have made it? Or what if I followed my instincts earlier? Maybe we'd have stopped the attack all together. We'd have saved a whole lot of lives that way. So many questions, so many possibilities."
There were fresh tears rising behind my eyes now, and this time they weren't for me. I felt like the world's biggest bitch. "I...I'm sorry, Logan. I'm sorry."
He nodded, seemingly not trusting himself to speak. I couldn't blame him. That scene was more horrific than anything I'd experienced in my life. I was struck by an immense sense of shame. How much death had Logan seen? How many friends had been ripped away from him, before his eyes? It didn't bear thinking about. And here I was crying over one lost life. I probably looked so childish. If Logan could find a way to overcome his pain, then so could I.
"How do you stop it destroying you?" I asked.
"By acknowledging you don't control the world. We all make choices. Some of them are good, others are a fucking disaster, but very few things are the result of a single action. What if our CO had sent us to another village, that day? Or the insurgent leader was slow with his dinner and the attack came five minutes later? What if Ace had never enlisted at all? There are a million variables to everything. Blame isn't black and white. I know I contributed to his death in some small way, but I also know I'm not responsible. You need to realize that, too." He stepped closer and reached out to brush my face where a single tear had leaked down. "There's a girl in here somewhere who deserves a second chance, and you owe it to her to make that happen."
The tenderness in his voice filled me with warmth. I stared up at him, everything inside me in tatters. I hurt for me and for him, for Tom and for Ace. There was so much pain, and right then it felt like we were both ready to drown in it. I desperately wanted something to cut through all that, if only for a moment.
There was barely a foot between our faces now, and slowly but surely, that space was shrinking further still. His hand lingered on my cheek, his eyes locked to mine. I could feel the heat of him enveloping my skin like steam, his scent swelling in my nostrils. There was something stirring in my stomach, something hungry and desperate and lonely. I knew I needed to look away, to break the spell of that moment, but his sheer presence held me in a trance.
He stood poised over me for what felt like a lifetime, gaze hungry, breath trembling, fingers dancing tiny circles across my skin, then with a low growl he pulled back.
My reaction was sharp and physical, the wind leaving my lungs as though I'd been punched.
He squeezed his eyes shut momentarily, then cleared his throat. "Anyway, if you're feeling alright, we should probably head back in." That guarded expression was back now, like the heat of the previous moment had never happened.
I opened my mouth to reply, but no words came out. I was dropping back to Earth now, the electricity beneath my skin gradually dissipating. I didn't know whether I was angrier at myself for letting us get so close, or at him for pulling away.
"All right," I said woodenly. Ironically, all I wanted now was to be back in the bar, lost in that simple rhythm. I needed to be away from him, needed time to think.
I turned to leave, but he caught my arm. "Grace, if anyone else bothers you, you know where to find me. I meant what I said about protecting you."
I nodded.
Back inside, the moment played through my head over and over. I had no idea how to make sense of his reaction at the end. Was it really possible I'd imagined the whole thing? A desperate little hallucination to fill whatever emptiness our talk had dredged up inside me? I wanted that to be the case, but all I could think about was the fire in his gaze, his hand against my skin, his lips just inches from my own. No, we'd shared something in that moment, I just didn't know what to do with it.
Chapter Eleven
Logan
Well, I truly fucked it all up this time. Grace finally opened up to me, and I responded in the worst possible way. I really thought I had myself under control around her, but that pain in her eyes triggered something inexorable inside me. In that moment, all I could think about was kissing her. I knew I needed to back off, but it was like trying to tell my heart to stop beating. I'm amazed I managed to stop when I did. Another few seconds and I'd have been tearing the clothes from her body.
I felt like the world's biggest asshole, and judging by the way she reacted, she thought the same. Sure, for a few moments there it looked like maybe she wanted it too, but that didn't mean shit. She was vulnerable and afraid. In that state of mind, people will do all kinds of things to not feel alone. She'd just confessed to losing the love of her life, for fuck's sake. Not to mention the fact that she'd straight up told me she wasn't interested. The idea that she might have actually wanted me pawing at her was insane.