“No fucking way.” Ember. I grabbed a pair of scissors off the desk and cut into the bag, the smell of strawberry-cheesecake cookies wafting through my room. I shoved one in my mouth. “Oh my God,” I moaned.
“Would you like me to leave you alone with your baked goods?”
“Want one?” I asked, offering him the bag. He’d better recognize the sacrifice.
He shook his head. “It means a ton that you’d offer, but she gave me a few, and I’m not coming between that relationship.” He sighed. “She also wanted me to give you a kiss, but I’m going to pretend that never happened.”
“Good call,” I said, popping another cookie in my mouth. Slow down and save a few. There’s only a dozen here. They tasted like home, like Ember on rainy days when she baked insane concoctions. They tasted like kitchen sex and love. I made myself fold the bag over then hid it in the trunk under my bed.
“Have a problem with cookie thieves?” Will asked.
“Jagger has shown up twice in the last month, and I swear, he’s devoured the last two batches she’s sent. I’m always glad to see him, but he needs to lay off my fucking cookies.”
“Noted.”
“Where did they get you set up?” I asked, grabbing my flight suit top and slipping my arms through the sleeves.
“Just another building over. I got here a few days ago, but we’ve been on opposite shifts.”
I paused mid-zip. “You’ve had my cookies over there for three days?”
He didn’t blink. “I could have left them in the Op center, but I figured they’d be gone by the time you saw her pretty handwriting on the bag.”
I pointed my finger at him. “You know what…fine. Let’s get you oriented so you can get on the schedule.”
I shot Ember a quick text on the international cell while on our way to the flight line. That thing was worth every penny we spent on it. Fuck, the battery was dying.
Josh: Hey babe, i’m headed to work.
We headed to the aircraft, and a few minutes later the phone dinged.
December: Fly safe. I love you.
Josh: Will got here, and the cookies are amazing. I love you, too. Phone is dying. i’ll give you a call tomorrow afternoon your time.
I turned the phone on silent and stuck it in my vest pocket as we did the run-up on the aircraft. Captain Trivette was flying with me again today, and she tossed a half smile back at Will. “You the new guy?” she called over the coms as the rotors fired up.
“Yes, ma’am,” he answered, belting into one of the back seats.
“Welcome to the sand box. We’re going to give you a little tour.”
“Welcome to the sand box!” Rizzo sang with one hand on his chest, giving his best Elvis impression.
Captain Trivette shook her head. “Take us out, Lieutenant.”
“Yes, ma’am.” We launched, the ground falling away from us in a series of squares and zigzags. We headed north toward Tarin Kowt, or TK, where Jagger was stationed, while Captain Trivette gave Will a quick course in the area.
Man, it was nice having Will here. It felt like flight school, except for the whole foreign country, hostile enemy thing.
Twenty minutes in, I was enjoying the flight, something I hadn’t had much opportunity for in-country. Will asked questions from the back, and either Captain Trivette or Rizzo answered him.
Near the Tor Ghar mountains, the radio crackled. Troops were in contact nearby.
“Do we respond?” Will asked.
“Nothing to do yet, Lieutenant Carter,” Captain Trivette answered. She checked the fuel and then took the controls. “It won’t hurt to be nearby since we’re already out.”
My heart jumped in anticipation as she altered our course toward the mountains. Two Apaches came on the frequency, responding.
“Now what?” Will asked.
“Now, we wait,” I responded, looking back over my shoulder at him. “You ready to become a man? All buckled in?”
“Yes, Mom.”
I tossed him a one-fingered salute with a grin and watched the mountains approach.
“Gun one-one.” One of the Apache pilots came on the radio, his voice instantly familiar. Jagger. Holy shit. “In pursuit of target. Follow?”
My stomach lurched. “Carter,” I called back. “That’s Bateman.”
He instantly sat straighter, on alert just like I was.
The other helo came on. “Gun one-two, I have your six.”
Calls for air support came across the radio, and the Apaches responded. Tense moments passed, but no medevac call was sounded. My shoulders sagged in relief as the ground troops called up their thanks.
“He’s all good,” I called back.
Will threw a thumbs-up, then lowered his head to his hands for just a second.
“Gun one-one, headed back to FOB,” Jagger called out, and I breathed a hell of a lot easier. I’d always known it was a possibility we would cross paths on a mission, but it wasn’t something I wanted to— “Fuck!” Jagger called out. My breath froze in my chest. “What was— Fuck, we’ve been hit! We’ve lost our tail rotor.”
I lunged forward in my seat like I could physically get to him, as my stomach plummeted to the ground hundreds of feet beneath me. The belts held me back. “Go!” I shouted to Captain Trivette. She’d already changed our heading toward the last known location.
“Mayday, mayday,” Jagger called over the radio. “We are going down. Repeat, we are going down!”
No. No. No. I was too far away. I couldn’t get to him, couldn’t save him. Couldn’t stop this from happening. Jagger. Every moment of our friendship flashed through my misfiring brain—hockey, rooming together, moving to Alabama, graduating flight school, that last barbecue before we left. He was the closest thing I had to a brother.
And I was fucking helpless.
The crumpling blast on the radio broke me into a million pieces, but the silence…it eviscerated me.
“Fallen Angel! I repeat, Fallen Angel!” Gunman one-two called over the radio. “They’ve gone down!”
Fallen Angel. Helicopter down.
The cry that came from my throat was animalistic, inhuman. “Jagger!”
Will reached through from his seat, putting his hand on my shoulder.
My best friend. My brother. He had to be alive. There was no other option.
“Gunman one-two, this is Dustoff one-two inbound. What is your current position?” Captain Trivette was steady on the stick and in her voice. I input the coordinates we were given, and she nodded. “We are three minutes out.”
It was the longest three minutes of my life.
“He’s alive, Walker. Even a helicopter crash couldn’t take down Jagger Bateman,” Will called on the com, but his voice shook.
He’s alive. He has to be. He’s alive. God. Paisley. The baby.
“Gunman one-two, what’s the status of an LZ?” Captain Trivette asked.
“We’ve got ground troops headed there on foot, but it’s cherry red, Dustoff. We’ve taken a few shots in our direction. I’m not even sure you can land near the site.”
Captain Trivette locked eyes with me, her face set and somber. “Are we in?”
“Yes!” Will shouted.
Rizzo hesitated for the smallest of seconds, then called out, “In!”
“Fuck, yes!” I damn near screamed. Every second we wasted was another that he could be bleeding out…if he’d survived the impact. He survived.
We flew over the ridgeline and into the valley, the Apache providing cover overhead. Figures darted beneath us, and an unwelcome sense of foreboding lodged in my throat as the walls of the valley rose above us like we were being lowered into a grave.
“Damn it. Could this be a worse location?” Captain Trivette asked as we moved further up the valley.
“There!” I shouted, pointing to the plume of black smoke mixing with the rising dust.
“Shit,” Will said.
Jagger’s bird lay on its side, a mangled mess, rotors torn off, and looking
at the terrain along the hillside he was smashed against, he must have rolled down a fair share of it. He’s alive. That’s the only option.
Gunshots pinged, hitting us in the side. “We’re taking fire. We’ve been hit,” Captain Trivette radioed, her voice calm and collected. “Aircraft is stable.”
“Everyone okay?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Rizzo answered.
“We can see daylight back here,” Will added. I turned in my seat to see bullet holes in the sliding doors. Fuck.
“Seems like a good day to die,” I muttered.
“Roger that, Dustoff one-two, we’re trying to cover you,” Gunman radioed. They came in closer, laying down fire along the ridgeline.
I scanned the valley floor as my heart threatened to pound out of my chest. “There,” I said, pointing to a relatively flat section. “We can put down there.”
Captain Trivette nodded, her full concentration on the bird. We passed just over Jagger’s crash site on descent, but from its angle, I couldn’t see anything but the belly of the aircraft.
Ping! Ping! Glass cracked. My head snapped to the left as Captain Trivette heaved forward, blood streaming from her helmet.
She’s dead. Holy shit, she’s dead.
Her body slammed into the controls, putting us into a dive.
“Shit! We’re hit! Fuck!” I gripped my controls and pulled back, but I couldn’t compensate for her body weight on hers. There was no way to recover, not this close to the ground. “We’re going down! Brace!” I yelled, but it was too late.
December. Her name was my only prayer.
The ground rushed up to meet us at a terrifying speed.
There was nothing I could do to slow us down, to change the angle, to—
Chapter Twelve
Ember
I grabbed two bottles of water out of the fridge and met Paisley outside next to the fire pit after our morning hike. “We could have stayed in Alabama another few days. I wouldn’t have minded,” I said as I took the chair closest to her.
We’d spent most of the weekend at Fort Rucker for her graduation, and even though her parents were stationed in New York, it had been nice to hang out with Morgan for a couple days.
I’d kept the conversation with Will to myself.
“Thanks,” she said, taking one of the bottles and twisting the top. “I just wanted to be in our house. I feel him here, you know?” Her hand rubbed over her belly absentmindedly.
“I understand perfectly. We might not have been here long, but it’s our home. His clothes are here, his pillow, our life.” I took a sip of my water, relishing the coolness in the Tennessee heat. “Remind me why you decided hiking was a good idea?”
She laughed. “It’s good for us. You’re not getting out of it, either. We’re going again in the morning. Besides, school is over, and you have almost three months until you fly to Turkey. We have to fill our time productively.”
“I’m still not sure I’m going,” I admitted quietly. “I mean, I’m ninety-eight percent sure I am, but there’s still this tiny part of me that says not to. You’re pregnant, and the guys are deployed, and I’m, what, going off gallivanting in Turkey?”
“We can’t always be wrapped up in them. Not if we’re supposed to thrive in this life. We can love them—heck, you and I both know that was never a choice, not with men like ours—but we need our own lives. We can’t lose ourselves in them.”
“It’s really the chance of a lifetime.”
Paisley leaned across the distance that separated our chairs and took my hands. “Then you go. I’ll be fine. Morgan can come for the rest of the summer, and you’ll be back at the beginning of October. I’m stronger than you think.”
“I know you are. I just don’t want you to be alone in this.”
She smiled, radiant with a happiness she seemed to carry with her at all times. “One, I’m never alone.” She patted her belly. “Two, the guys might not be here, but they’re with us. But you and I…we both have amazing adventures coming. You owe it to yourself to go.”
“What if something happens?” I whispered.
She squeezed my hands. “That kind of heartache wouldn’t care where you are, Ember.”
She was right. Where I was had nothing to do with what Josh was doing. If anything, going now would use our time apart to the best advantage.
I checked in with Sam while I gathered up the pile of grad school applications I’d been avoiding, but hearing Grayson in the background made me miss Josh even more, so I made an excuse and got off the phone. Sam was happy, and she deserved to be. She didn’t need my issues pulling her down right now.
Settling in with the applications, I cued up the DVR to catch up on what I’d missed while studying for finals.
Maybe it was because it was a Saturday, but I missed him more today than usual. Saturdays had always been our days. Even when we lived far apart, it was the one day of the week I woke up with him and fell asleep in his arms.
What was he doing? I’d texted hours ago, but he was probably still on shift. I grabbed my cell phone and shot off a quick message.
Ember: I bet you’re flying, but I wanted to tell you a quick I love you.
I hit send and fidgeted on the couch. Without school, and Turkey still three months away, I was sure to go out of my mind.
Paisley knocked and came in without waiting. “Okay,” she drawled. “I cannot sit in that house today. Let’s go shopping for the nursery?”
I sighed in relief. “I’m so in. Let’s get out of here.”
Chapter Thirteen
Josh
“I’m so glad you’re home!” Ember ran from our kitchen and jumped into my arms. She was all sugar and sunlight, her curves filling my hands perfectly.
“Where else would I be?” I asked, and then kissed her.
“I hate when you’re gone,” she said softly.
“Me, too. God, I’ve missed you, December.” I lifted her by the backs of her thighs, and she wrapped her legs around my waist.
“You don’t have to miss me anymore.”
“I just want to stay here,” I said, a feeling of panic coming over me.
“Then stay,” she whispered against my mouth, and then kissed me sweetly, gently sucking on my lower lip.
I deepened the kiss, wishing I could dive inside her and stay forever.
“Walker!” I heard the voice from a distance and looked up, scanning our kitchen.
“Josh!” Ember cradled my face, turning my head with her hands. “Josh, come back to me. Come home.”
“I’m home, babe. I’m not leaving you again.” I brushed my fingers over her cheekbones, loving the smattering of freckles that summer always brought to her skin.
“Walker!” The voice was closer.
“Come home to me!” she cried, breaking into tears. I wiped them away.
“Stop, December. Stop crying. I’m here.” No matter how many tears I cleared, more flowed.
She sobbed, and her tears ran red.
With blood.
“Walker!” she screamed, grabbing my face. “Walker! Wake up!”
Light blazed through my vision, and my thigh buzzed, then burned. Ember vanished, and I jerked my head to the side.
“Thank you, God,” the voice said, and its owner dropped his hands from my eyelids.
Pain shot through every inch of my body, and my head rang with a high-pitched buzzing. “Can you hear me?” he asked. “Walker?”
“Carter,” I said, recognizing the voice. “I hear you, Will.”
“Are you okay? Where are you hurt?”
I blinked steadily until the world came into focus around me. Will lay next to me—wait—above me, shining a light on my face. I tried to block it from my eyes, but my right arm wouldn’t cooperate. I swatted it with the left, instead. “I’m fine. My right arm isn’t responding, and my left leg is bleeding…or I pissed my pants.”
Will snorted and shone the light down. “Damn. I wish it was the latter.”
&nbs
p; I swallowed, my mouth full of copper. “Rizzo?”
“I’m here, Lieutenant. Pretty sure I broke a few fingers on my left hand, my neck hurts, and my head is ringing like a bell, but I’m okay.”
Thank God. “You, Carter?”
“I’m okay. It hurts like a bitch to breathe. I think I popped a couple ribs, but I’m okay.”
I couldn’t see past Will, but I knew Captain Trivette was still there, strapped in. “She’s dead.” Somehow I kept my voice level.
Carter nodded slowly. “Yeah. Look, we’ve been down about ten minutes, and you know we’re not going to be alone for long. We have to get out of here.”
I nodded and gritted my teeth as Carter ran his hand under my left thigh. “Good news or bad news?”
“Bad then good.”
“Well, you have a rather large chunk of metal sticking out of your thigh.” He shone the light again, but I couldn’t get a look with the angle we were at. “It’s pretty substantial.”
“Is that seriously the good news?”
“No, the good news is that it didn’t go all the way through. You’re not pinned to the seat.”
“Great. Let’s get the hell out of here. How close are we to Jagger’s site?”
“About a hundred yards,” Rizzo answered from outside the bird.
Will unbuckled me, and my weight dropped to my right arm. I couldn’t stop the yell that burst free. “Fuck, that hurts!”
“Sorry,” Carter mumbled. Then he grabbed ahold of my vest and pulled. I pushed with my right leg in an awkward scramble out of the cockpit.
“We can’t leave her.”
“I know.” Once we were in the back, I made it out with Rizzo’s help. He lowered me to the ground, and then they got Captain Trivette out.
She deserved so much better than this, being laid on the rocky ground of some valley in Afghanistan. Jesus, she had kids. A husband. A life that was now over.
Because I wanted to save Jagger.
Not now. Shove it away.
“Where’s the Apache?” I asked, cradling my useless right arm and collapsing against a boulder. Fuck, it had gone dark in the last half hour.
“They’ve been circling, but they’ve got to be low on fuel,” Will answered, drawing his weapon and setting a perimeter, then grabbing his CSEL to radio out. “Gunman one-two, this is Dustoff one-two. Over?”
Hallowed Ground (Flight & Glory #4) Page 10