“Our convoy was attacked one day while en route to a new base. They blew the hummer in front of us right off the ground. Ripped it all apart. The guys inside died instantly.”
I gasped and automatically reached across the table and laid my hand across his. He looked down at our joined hands silently for a moment and then glanced up.
Thinking I did the wrong thing, I began to slip my hand away. He flipped his over and captured my retreating fingers, slipping his through mine and giving them a squeeze.
“The driver of the hummer we were in stopped and the three of us got out, looking for the threat, for the men who killed our brothers.”
“You got out!” I demanded. “Why didn’t you speed away?”
He gave me a level look. “We don’t leave men behind.”
I nodded.
“The hummer that was hit lay about fifty feet away, and I ran to it while the others covered me. It was on fire and charred, but I had to be sure no one was left alive. The smell of their burning bodies… it’s something I’ll never forget.”
I shivered, trying to picture a bunch of men in the center of a war zone, strapped with weapons and uniforms, traveling across the sand while bombs and gunfire aimed to take their lives.
“While I was checking the hummer, the one we had been riding in took a hit. The hit hadn’t been head on like the previous one, and the passenger side of the vehicle blew out, causing it to roll. It rolled right over Govern, the man who’d been driving.”
I set my fork down, unable to eat. “Then what happened?”
“Connors was standing out in the open, completely vulnerable to attack. So I left the cover of the burning hummer and raced toward him, meaning to cover him while he ran to safety. There were snipers up in a cluster of rocks not too far from where we were and they were picking us off with ease. Anyway, my movement distracted the shooter and the next shot went wild, bouncing off the sand in front of us. When I reached Connors, the sun glinted off the scope of the sniper’s gun and I lined up a shot. I’ll never forget that moment… My eyes connected with the man trying to kill us, and we stood there frozen for long moments, staring each other down through the scopes on our weapons.”
“Tucker,” I whispered, tears filling my eyes.
“We pulled the trigger at the same time.” He blinked and looked up at me. “My bullet killed him. His bullet would have killed me, but Connors knocked me out of the way, taking it instead.”
I gasped, thinking how incredibly close he had been to death. “And Connors?” I asked, praying to God he was okay.
“It was a gut shot,” he said, grim. “He wasn’t able to walk, so I carried him. I walked for ten miles before someone found us.”
He carried a bleeding, injured man for ten miles through the desert, and every step he likely wondered if it would be his last. What kind of mental consequence did a situation like that have on a person?
“Did he die?” I whispered.
“It was a close call, but no, he didn’t. He’s still alive. He got out of the Corps after that and he lives out in North Dakota with his wife and son.”
“You saved his life.”
“He saved mine first.”
Tucker glanced down at our joined hands and then glanced back up. “That experience changed me. Watching men I cared about, men who I considered family, die… It left an imprint on my soul, something that will always be there. I kind of broke away from people after that. I didn’t get as close. I let relationships, like the one I had with Max, slip away. It was too hard to be close to people, too hard to love them.”
“What about Nathan?” I asked, thinking of the friend he mentioned before.
He smiled, a genuine smile that lit up his eyes. “I’ve only known Nathan a couple of years. He kind of just became a fixture in my life. He understands war. He has scars of his own. For quite a while, it was just me and him.”
“Didn’t you say he’s married?”
“To a writer. He saved her from being kidnapped. She wrote a book about it. They’ve been together ever since.”
I felt my eyes go wide. “Are you talking about the book they made into a movie? Text?”
He grinned. “You’ve heard of it?”
“Everybody has heard of it.”
He chuckled.
“I can’t believe you’re friends with Honor Calhoun,” I said in awe. I loved her books. Well, when I got the time to read.
“It’s Honor Reed now,” he corrected.
The waitress came by and seemed concerned neither of us had touched our food. I assured her it was wonderful; we’d just been talking. She didn’t seem convinced when she walked away.