Fanning all the letters through my fingers, one stands out as different, different paper, pen color and writing, worn and ragged edges. It's addressed to me and dated March of this year, but the ink changes from paragraph to paragraph as if it's an ongoing thread written on different dates.
Dear Piper:
Justin is gone. It hurts. I hurt. I'm sorry I hurt you.
I was missing a friend, but I've found another. Thank you for allowing me to stay.
P.S. Your couch sucks, sunshine.
I think about you. I think about you like a man thinks about a woman, carnal and raw. And I hate myself for it.
My heart wants, even though I've told it not to. My heart wants. I want.
I've never seen beauty like yours. It's light where I am dark. It's dark when I am bathed in sun. It's good and evil, the forbidden fruit I'll never be able to resist.
With millions of women in the world, why can't I stop thinking about the one I can't have? Why, Piper? Because my soul has always been honest if not a little greedy, and it wants a spirited pixie with pink hair and a killer smile. You know a man can't fight his own soul-it goes against the laws of the universe or something.
It feels like Christmas, and I've been on the naughty list. I like the taste of you too, sunshine.
Piper. JT. Piper. JT. Justin. Justin. Justin.
I don't know how we end, Piper. Maybe we don't. Maybe we go on to infinity. Infinity. That's a good number.
"Oh, Caden," I say his name out loud to the silent room, clutching his letter to my galloping heart. Hearing the words break through the silence makes him real and alive. "Come home and I'll give you my forever. Just come home."
Caden
THE MINUTE BEFORE a mission is quiet. Sixty seconds to reflect, pray, piss, or check your weapons one last time. I kneel, ignoring the pinch in my thigh. Helmet in hand, I remove Piper's letter tucked inside.
Dear Caden,
Today it rained, though my thoughts were bright. I'd look to the clouds, and it was your face I'd see. I listened to the rustle of leaves overhead, and it was your voice in my ear. I felt the wind, and it was your fingers lighting up my skin. I painted my feelings, and in the end, the image on canvas was you.
My truth, Caden Lawless, is that you're everywhere. And everywhere is where I want to be. In bed, in the kitchen, on the table or in the truck, fast, slow, rough, and sweet. One night is not enough. Come home and let me show you.
Just let me . . .
x Piper
PS. JT sends sloppy kisses. Your picture is wet with them. Gus sits by the door waiting. I tell him maybe we'll see you at the end of the day. And at the end of every day we see you in the stars. Be safe, Popeye. We're waiting.
I touch her words with my finger. She thought of herself as watercolors in the rain, bleeding into the background, when all I see is light and freedom from my demons. An escape into a reality so bright it blinds me. Brings me to my knees with reverence for how good she is, justification for my path that ends today. In the space between us, in her silence, I am healed. I am no longer lost. "I'm coming home, sunshine. That's not a promise-that is my truth."
Emotion stings my throat. Three weeks. Twenty-one days of travel, fit testing, clearance, and recon. Nothing is done without thorough study. Once systematic confirmation of the compound was complete, the targets and their patterns scrutinized, we made plans to move in. Which means it's been way too long since I've seen Piper.
I close my eyes and imagine her smile. It tugs at my heart. It takes me back to Lilyfalls, to easy mornings and simple days. But not this day. Tonight, we fly. Under the sliver moon, cloaked by darkness and smothered in heat, we ride in the sky for Gavin Lawless.
One night.
One chance.
"The only easy day was yesterday," I say out loud for my brothers to repeat it. Their voices ebb as the whir of whipping blades increase. I tuck Piper's letter away and then we pile in the specialized helicopter. Made to be near silent, it'll see us to the compound and God willing, be there to bring us out. Bear sits to my right, and the left seat remains empty as we rise.
One HELO moves across Afghanistan.
I'm in the third seat.
Justin sits next to me.
"Son-of-a-bitch," I mutter as I stare at the space that had been vacant until I blinked my eyes. "Really? This is not a good time for a magic act, dickhead."
Fully suited, Justin looks exactly like he did on every other mission. Camo, combat boots, vest, rifle, night-vision goggles, pistols-he's got it all.
"Hey." He holds up his hands. "I've been with you on every op for twelve years. Dead or alive makes no difference, Cade. And seeing that this is your last go, I wouldn't miss it for the world."