Page 38 of Shades of You

“Something went wrong?” My heart clenched for the pain he’d endured, for the stories etched into his flesh that he hadn’t shared with me. Yet.

“Yeah.”

“I understand if you can’t talk about it, but I’d like to hear,” I said softly. Not pushing too hard but offering him the space to unfold before me if he chose to.

He stared out the window toward the mangroves that fringed Dove Key. “Her name was Ayesha. She was a young widow with two kids—a boy and a girl. Both smart as whips. She taught English secretly because, well, you know how it is over there. The Taliban… they would have killed her for it.”

A knot tightened in my stomach. The idea of children being dragged into such horror felt like a punch to the gut. I couldn’t imagine the strength it took to defy such odds, to cling to the belief that education could be a candle in the darkness.

“I gave Ayesha some books to use in her classroom, and we became friends. I told her… I’d protect her and her kids.” He stopped to clear his throat, his hand unconsciously stroking my back as if to soothe us both. “We were working to get them out. My unit. We thought the Taliban were still days away. Myles, Garrett, and I went into town for something to eat, thinking we’d be back long before anything happened.”

He hadn’t spoken much about the two men who worked with him, but his words confirmed my intuition that they had all served together. The hard knot in my gut twisted further. “And something did happen?”

“Yes. All hell broke loose.” He swallowed hard, theAdam’s apple in his throat bobbing with the effort. “The sound of gunfire rattled through the streets—it’s not something you ever forget. We dropped everything and ran back. The Taliban had already overrun the town, and we engaged every step of the way. Thank God we never went anywhere unarmed. Some shrapnel hit me on the way. On my upper back.”

I rubbed my fingers, remembering the ridges of his skin as I’d stroked across that broad back.

He sighed, a sound that weighed a thousand pounds. Then his body tensed as if the memory was a physical blow. “When we got there… It was too late.”

“Oh no.” A numb wave rolled over me, leaving goose bumps in its wake.

He nodded, a pained expression crossing his features. “Ayesha and her kids… They lay there in their own home, lifeless, and I just…” He moved his hand, his fingers tracing the bullet hole near his rib—the scar I’d traced with my lips not so long before, learning the history etched into his skin. “I completely lost it. Went after the Taliban still around with everything I had. It wasn’t about orders or duty anymore. I didn’t really care what happened to me. It was personal.”

“Revenge?” I asked softly.

“Justice,” he corrected, a hollow breath escaping him. “But in the end, what does it matter? They were still gone. And I took another bullet, this time for nothing.”

“Nothing?” I echoed, frowning deeply. “You were trying to protect them.”

“Key word—trying.” Hunter’s eyes met mine, filled with a sorrow that twisted everything inside me in knots. “I failed them, just like I failed Evan.”

“Your brother’s accident wasn’t your fault,” Isaid firmly. Everyone knew the story. It had been an accident, sure. But Hunter had instigated the whole thing and obviously never forgiven himself.

He shook his head, his expression unreadable. “Doesn’t change how I feel. I couldn’t save them, and Evan was paralyzed for a while because of me. It’s why I pushed you away, Brenna. Why I’m still not sure that us”—he gestured vaguely between our entwined bodies—“that this is such a good idea.”

“Because you think you’re what. Cursed?” I challenged, refusing to accept his self-condemnation. “That you bring disaster wherever you go?”

“It’s crossed my mind,” he admitted, staring with ancient eyes at the ceiling.

“Then stop.” The words came out more forcefully than I intended. “Those things happenedtoyou, not because of you. You’re just as deserving of love and forgiveness as anyone else, Hunter.”

“Sure,” he mumbled.

“It’s true,” I insisted, turning his chin to make him look at me. Even though I felt like my heart was cracking in half. “You’ve been carrying these burdens alone for far too long. Let me help.”

He looked at me then, really looked at me, his deep, dark eyes searching mine for something he couldn’t seem to find within himself. “Why do you care so much?”

“Because,” I whispered back, pressing my forehead to his. “It kills me to see you like this.”

He closed his eyes and pressed a gentle kiss to my temple. I traced a stylized inked turtle on his shoulder, knowing that in his heart, he was still miles away on a battlefield that he couldn’t escape. I reached out, my fingers tracing the line of the elaborate tattoo, a gesture meantto tether him back to the present, away from the haunting memories.

“Look at us,” I said, allowing a small smile to dance on my lips, hoping it might coax one onto his. “A Coleridge and a Markham, and we’re a whole lot more than friends at this point. That means anything’s possible.”

Hunter let out a groan that seemed to come from deep within. And finally—finally—a wry smile raised his lips. “Not when our families find out.”

“Your family…” I hesitated for a moment before plunging ahead. “Do you think they’ll hate me? And me being with you?”

He lifted a hand, tenderly brushing a strand of hair away from my face. “No. My family thinks the feud is pretty stupid. And they’ve learned firsthand that Coleridges have a good side—after that fiasco with Ben and the fact that he was innocent.”

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