Page 23 of Misery In Me

Hands are on my shoulders, pulling me back and dragging me toward the cover of a nearby vehicle. Morales is shouting for the rest of the team to get to the extraction point, but I can barely make sense of his words.

I look up at him and try to speak. But all that comes out is a groan as the searing pain in my side steals my breath.

“We’re getting out of here, Gage,” Morales promises, and I know he’s not lying. But I’m not sure if I’ll make it. “You’re gonna see your kid soon.”

I’m alive, for now. But I’m not sure for how long.

I’m back at base,but my body feels like it’s been through a meat grinder. The medics patch me up, but I’m only half-listening. I can still feel the sting of McMahon’s death, the burden of the loss hanging heavy in my chest. I can feel the bullet wound in my side, but I know that’ll heal. The pain will fade. But Zach—he’s gone, and I’ll never get that back.

I need to call Ale. To hear her voice. I need something familiar, something real. I need the sound of Zoe’s little grunts and Alejandra’s warm smile to pull me out of this fog. But I’m not sure what to say. I’m not sure how to explain all of this.

“Hey, Doc,” and Murphy looks up. “Are we still in River City? I gotta call home.”

He shakes his head and I pull out my phone and hit her contact, my hands still shaky, the screen flickering as it rings. I wait, and the tension builds, making every second feel like an eternity.

Finally, her voice breaks through the silence.

“Gage?” Her voice is soft, worried, like she’s just woken up. I can hear the warmth in it, even through the static on the line. It cuts through the chaos in my head. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Alive,” I rasp, and it’s all I can say. The rest is too hard. Too complicated.

She pauses, and I can hear the relief in her breath. “Thank God.”

I close my eyes for a moment, just letting her voice fill the emptiness. I’m so damn lucky to have her. To have her with Zoe. But I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with these feelings—this pressure in my chest that’s heavier than the bullet wound.

“I lost one of my guys,” I say, my voice hoarse. “He’s gone, Ale. I couldn’t save him.”

There’s silence on the other end. A long, heavy silence. “I’m so sorry, Gage. I don’t… I don’t know what to say.”

I swallow, trying to push the tightness in my throat down. “There’s nothing to say. It’s war. It’s what we signed up for.”

But even as I say it, I don’t believe it. It doesn’t make the pain go away. It doesn’t make the loss easier. And it doesn’t change the fact that every day I go out there, I risk not coming back.

“I just… I just need you to be safe,” Alejandra says, her voice small and vulnerable. “Please. For Zoe.”

For Zoe.I can feel it then, deep in my bones.

I have the strength and determination to get through this. I have to. I need to see her again. I need to come back.

“I’ll be careful,” I promise, even though I can’t make that guarantee. “I’ll be back soon.”

The line is quiet, the only sound is my own breathing, but her energy remains palpable in the stillness. And I don’t know if it’s the adrenaline or the fear, but something inside me shifts. The thought of her holding Zoe, of how she’s becoming such a big part of our lives—my life—settles over me.

I’m falling for her, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

I hang up, staring at the phone in my hands. The team is waiting.

But even as I turn away, I can’t shake the thought of what I’ve left behind.

And what I might not come back to.

NINE

ALEJANDRA

I’m standing in the sea of families, feeling so out of place because I don’t fit in with everyone around me. At the base, the air crackles with a mixture of anticipation, fear, and excitement. The sounds of hushed conversations, nervous laughter, and the occasional tearful outburst fill the space. This mission turned to shit and Gage was coming home. Families of other unit members are here waiting to greet their significant others. I’m here, too. But not as a wife, not as a girlfriend—just as the nanny, the woman who’s been taking care of his child while he’s been gone.

But this feels like more than that.

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