The Movie Star's Red Hot Holiday Fling(22)
She willed the fire burning behind her eyes to turn to ice. “I told you that I want to forget the little I remember.”
“You can’t move on until you know all the facts,” Blake said. “Look at the camera angle I’ve created based on Woodall and Constanza’s info.”
She zeroed her vision on the screen’s characters. “Constanza’s too close to me. So is Woodall.” She shook her head.
“Where’s Rodriguez?”
The force of the memory shoved against the guilt clouding her mind. “Behind me.”
“No. According to Woodall, Rodriguez was next to you the minute you fixed the blasting cap.” Blake moved the digitized version of her team leader to her side. “He went over to get the device, maybe to help you solve the problem.”
“That’s not…”
“Sweetheart, you blocked out a lot of what happened and mixed up the order of events. That’s normal. You should know that. Constanza knows it. And so does Woodall.”
“Rodriguez was next to me?” Jessie struggled to bring that day’s worst moments back to the surface of her brain. She went cold the moment the truth broke through her mind’s protective barrier. “I heard him shout to the others that it was a double bluff booby trap, and he shoved me aside. The damn thing was trapped to trigger after I fixed the blasting cap. Rodriguez must have… Oh God.”
“Jessie.” Blake’s voice broke through the haze of the explosion, the resulting blood coating her uniform, the screams of her team reverberating through her brain. “What if Tony Rodriguez hadn’t pushed you away?”
She swiped her brow. “I’d be dead. He’d be alive.”
“I’ve reenacted the scene without Tony’s interference. Watch it.”
She stared at the computer images. Her movements, the proximity of her team to the device, and Rodriguez no longer in the picture. Scattershot burst across the scene. And four bodies, not one, lay wasted on the desert sand.
“Master Staff Sergeant Tony Rodriguez did what any Marine would do in this situation.” Blake closed the screen. “He acted without regard for his personal safety, exposing himself to the bomb’s explosion. Rodriguez sacrificed himself for the team, taking the hit to save you all.”
Chapter Nine
Jessie’s vision blurred, agony stabbed behind her eyes. Months of suppressed survivor guilt and grief torpedoed straight through her heart, annihilating her defenses. “It’s not my fault that… that…?” She couldn’t speak through the knot of emotion lodged in her throat.
“You aren’t responsible for Rodriguez’s death.” Blake framed her face, kissing her scalding tears. “The enemy double booby-trapped the bomb. Rodriquez’s quick action to protect his explosive ordnance disposal team got him killed. I’d bet every penny I’ve made as Quinn Sawyer that he’d want you to quit condemning yourself for his loss. You were in a war zone. Dangerous territory. Marines take care of their own—you’d have done the same.”
“I miss him,” she whispered, a sob catching in her throat. “I miss everything about him. About my team. About my life.”
“And you haven’t given yourself permission to say good-bye,” he said.
“I don’t want to say good-bye.” The sorrow roped around her heart and squeezed an anguished wail from the depths of her soul. “I want hellos and tomorrows and all the in-betweens.” She held her waist, rocking and gulping in air.
“You’ll have them.” He wrapped his arm around her heaving shoulders, drew her into his embrace. “But you’ve got to let go of the past if you’re going to have the future you deserve.”
She clasped her hands around his neck, sobbing, drawing in huge breaths of air, unable to articulate.
“That’s it, babe,” he murmured. “Don’t hold back, ’cause I’ve got you.”
She wept until the well of sorrow within her ran dry and the stake of remorse pulled free. Through all her shuddering gasps, Jessie clung to Blake until the burden that had weighed her down for months lifted.
Her sobs subsided. Blake was right. All the months of worrying about what she might have done differently if she could go back to that day and relive it evaporated. She’d never believed she deserved to be alive, and had lain awake for nights on end replaying the pieces she could remember, afraid that she was at fault.
The only people to blame were the people who had manufactured the double booby trap IED. What had happened was a reality of war. A reality she hated. And one that meant she’d never see her leader again—but she no longer needed to shoulder the extreme guilt she’d carried for being alive.