Homecoming (4 page)

“
Kids
 died, Megan. Kids.”

“Will, you didn’t purposely kill those children. That country is at war. Unfortunately, sometimes terrible things happen in a war. It doesn’t mean you should spend the rest of your life beating yourself up about it.”

He shook his head slowly. “Something tells me that you wouldn’t be so nonchalant about it if Dillon was one the kids in that fire.”

Her eyes widened as she gasped.

“You know, it’s really easy to lump forty children into a pretty little number, but each and every one of those kids belonged to someone. Some mother is sobbing herself to sleep because 
I
 killed her son or daughter.”

Megan’s voice rose. “You didn’t kill them, Will. That terrorist planted those bombs.”

“
I 
gave the order to move forward with the mission. I was the one who ignored orders to retreat. I was worried he’d get away again. 
Idiot.
If I’d spent more time on surveillance…” He rubbed his eyes while a new wave of pain and guilt seared his chest. “I may not have hit the detonator, but they went off because of me.”

“No, Will. That’s not true.”

He stood, slapping his palm on the table. Damn her for trying to absolve him of his sins. He didn’t want to sweep this under the rug like the Pentagon had done. He wanted to be held responsible for what he’d done. Yet everyone wanted to slap his hand with a “bad boy” and then expected him to pretend it never happened. Everyone except his mother, the one person he needed love and acceptance from. Her disgust was the one true measure of his crime. “I have to get out of here.”

She stood, putting a hand on her hip. “What are you talking about? It’s not even four in the morning.”

“I’m one fucked-up mess, Megan. I can’t stay here and infect your family.”

“What the hell are you talking about? One mistake doesn’t make you a fucked-up mess that will infect my family.”

Will pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead. “I wished to God that was all I’d done, Megan. It was just the big finale.”

She paused. “What are you talking about?”

His hand fell to his side as icy resolve covered his emotions. “Why does no one ever question how my unit was one of the most successful?”

“Because you’ve always pushed yourself to be the best, Will.” While her words held conviction, Will heard her fear.

He tilted his head. “That’s not good enough there.”

“Will…”

“I needed information to find the men we were looking for. Do you have any idea how I got it?”

She shook her head, the color draining from her face. “No.”

Will took a step toward her. “My unit was the most successful because I learned how to make men talk. Would you like me to tell you how?”

Her eyes hardened as she lifted her chin. “No.”

“People need motivators to be persuaded to tell you want they don’t want you to know.” He took another step toward her as she took a step back. “One of the very best is fear.” His eyebrows rose. “Do you know what it takes to make trained terrorists afraid, Megan?”

She took another step backward, bumping into the kitchen counter. Her wide eyes filled with tears. “Will, you’re scaring me.”

He leaned into her face and whispered, “Good. You should be scared of me. I’ve done vile, vile things all in the name of righteousness. I’ve become a monster. I’ve ignored human decency all for the sake of the final results. But guess what? The end 
does not
 justify the means.”

“Will.” Her hand reached for his cheek, but he pushed it away.

“If I stay here, I will hurt you. Maybe not physically, but I’ll hurt you all the same. It’s just a matter of time.”

Tears streamed down her cheek as she bit her lip and shook her head. “No, I don’t believe that.”

He took a step back, his heart pounding so hard that it was about to beat itself from his chest. “I can’t take that chance, Megan.” His throat tightened as his eyes burned. “I love you too much to let that happen.” He went upstairs to his room and grabbed his shirt off the floor and pulled it over his head.

She stood in the doorway. “You can’t just leave like this. Where are you going to go?”

“I don’t know.”

“Will, please.” Her voice caught on her tears. “I can’t just let you go without knowing where you’re going.”

God, he loved her and it killed him that he hurt her so. He wiped eyes with the back of his hand then pulled her into a hug, her pregnant belly between them. “I’ll go find James.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. “That’s a good idea. Find James. Do you know where he is?”

“Minnesota somewhere.”

Her tears muffled her laugh. “That’s specific.”

He closed his eyes, soaking in her goodness. If only he could stay with her and let her goodness wash away his evil. But he’d seen too much to know it didn’t work that way. Evil conquered good. Every fucking time. He had to leave. “James shouldn’t be hard to find. He’s a fishing guide now. He’s counting on people to find him.”

“When will I see you again?”

Will’s breath caught. “I don’t know.”

Her fingernails dug into his neck. “Promise me that you’ll call.”

He nodded, not trusting his voice.

“I love you, Will.”

“I love you too.” He stepped back and picked up his bag, brushing past her and down the stairs. If he stopped and let himself reconsider, the selfish part of him would be tempted to stay. He needed her. But she needed him not to stay. As he drove away, he knew that he’d just left the last good thing in his life.

Chapter Four

 As the sun set, Will drove down a snow-covered lane surrounded by bare trees until a small house came into view. He’d been here once as a kid when James had come to visit his grandparents. Still, he’d been a kid so he didn’t remember how to get here, let alone what town James was in. But finding James had been ridiculously easy. Good thing James wasn’t in the witness protection program.

Will stopped the car in front of the cabin, the crunch of snow and gravel underneath his tires. He wasn’t sure what to expect when James opened the door, but he’d come too far to leave now.
This is James. He won’t turn me away. 
His stomach twisted as he walked to the front door.

But he would have said the same thing about his mother.

He rapped on the door. A moment later, James stood in the opening, his eyes wide in surprise.

For one heart-stopping moment, Will was sure James was going to turn him away. But then James reached for him, pulling him into a bear hug. “Welcome home, buddy.”

Relief poured through Will, opening the dam to his emotions and he released a wail of anguish. They stood there for several seconds as Will sobbed.

James patted Will’s back. “Let’s go inside.”

Will nodded and James dropped his hold, stepping backward.

“Perfect timing. I’m getting ready to eat.” James walked toward the kitchen. “I’ll get you a bowl of stew.”

Will rubbed his face with hand. “Yeah…sounds good.”

“Have a seat.”

Will sat at the table while James opened a cabinet and set two glasses on the table. “You look like shit.”

Will couldn’t help laughing. “You aren’t so pretty yourself.”

James grabbed a bottle of whiskey and set it on the table with a loud thud. “I’m prettier than you. My luck with the ladies proves it.”

Will smirked. “Whatever.”

Pouring a generous portion into Will’s glass, James raised his eyebrows. “You, my friend, need to get laid.” He picked up the glass and handed it to Will.

Will shook his head. “You think that’s the answer for everything.”

James put his hand on his chest, mock surprise widening his eyes. “You’re saying it’s not?”

Will shook his head and took a drink. He closed his eyes as the alcohol burned its way to his stomach.

“You look like you’ve lost weight. You better put some meat on your bones or you’ll never hook up with a girl. They aren’t much into live scarecrows.”

Will snorted. “Good to see you have my priorities straight.”

“Damn right.”

They ate in silence and Will finished off his bowl, surprised he had an appetite and that the stew was so good.

James grabbed his bowl and ladled more from a pot on the stove.

“Where’s the can?”

Raising his eyebrows, James set the bowl in front of Will. “What can?”

“The can this stew came from.”

James laughed and got more for himself. “I made it myself, you dickhead.”

“I never knew you cooked.”

“People change.”

James sat down as his comment hung in the air.

Will hunched over his bowl, scooping another spoonful. “So they do.”

James took a bite and watched him.

Dropping his spoon with a clang, Will lifted his chin to face James. “So where’s the questions? Where’s the consolation?”

James face remained expressionless, but he lowered his spoon. “You’ll tell me what happened when you’re ready, and you and I both know that I sucking at the comforting shit.”

“Aren’t you wondering why I’m here?”

“You’re here because we’ve been best friends since the second grade. Where the hell else are you going to go?”

Resting his forehead in his hand, Will closed his eyes. “You don’t know what I’ve done. What I’ve become.”

“I know more than you think. I still have connections. And I know you couldn’t have achieved what you have since I left you in that hellhole without resorting to some unsavory behavior.”

“It’s worse than you think.”

“I doubt it.”

“You don’t know that. 
You weren’t there.
”

James rested his elbow on the table and leaned toward Will. “You’re right. I haven’t been there the last few years, but I was there long enough to take all I could stomach.” His voice lowered. “Will, I know about the school. I know it was you.”

Will’s heart lurched. “How?”

Dropping his gaze, James scooped his spoon in the bowl. “I told you. I still have connections. Just because I’m no longer an active Marine doesn’t mean I haven’t used my skills from time to time. I haven’t been able to count on my fishing-guide business to pay all of the bills.”

“You know what I did and you still let me in?”

“You’ve been my best friend for as long as I can remember. I know that you wouldn’t have purposely killed those kids. It was an accident and you can’t even live with that.” James took a bite, then stirred his stew in circles. “Look, no one is perfect. Take me, for example.” Spreading his hands out, James winked. “I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s true. Everyone screws up. Everyone makes a mistake. Even really fucked-up ones.”

“So we’re just going to call this a fucked-up mistake?”