Page 89 of Boomer
She snapped on the light, but he made no indication that it registered. He didn’t flinch or blink or look at her.
He looked worse and worse by the minute. His chest heaved, sweat running in rivulets off him. He closed his eyes tightly and whimpered, then cried out in torment. The sounds he made were like an animal in pain.
Thinking that waking him up would be the best thing that she could do, she shook him.
Without thinking about her safety, her heart so wrapped around Boomer’s, she couldn’t lie there and watch this. She grabbed his shoulders and shook him. “Boomer! It’s a nightmare. Wake up!”
His eyes went wild, and he looked at her like she was the most hideous monster on the planet. He was shaking and dry heaving, moaning.
“Carter,” she said softly. His face crumpled and his painful cries tore at her. She took a deep breath and pressed her bodyagainst him. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she buried her face into the hollow of his throat.
He sagged and then she felt the change in him.
“Taylor,” he said, his tone confused and shaky, his voice hoarse.
“You had a nightmare,” she said, but when she raised her face to his, his eyes filled with tenderness.
Cupping his jaw, she brushed a kiss against his mouth; then she eased back and looked at him. His face was ravaged by strain, with lines of soul-deep weariness around his eyes and mouth, but what made her heart contract was the bruised, tormented look in his eyes, as if he was so raw, he simply couldn’t handle much more. She realized Boomer had never been vulnerable like this, and that only made her heart hurt even more.
Desperate to soothe that horror off his face and in his eyes, she placed soft, tender kisses on his temples, brushing her lips against his forehead, the hollow of his cheeks, and his mouth. He stirred and pressed his mouth against hers.
“Darlin’ Red,” his voice choked with the rawest kind of emotion. He kissed her on the mouth, and she pressed her hands against his wide chest.
Drawing in a deep, painful breath, she slid her hand up the back of his neck, cradling his head against her with infinite tenderness. Boomer shuddered and tried to get out from under her, but she held on to him, trapped by her weight. He turned his head away and massaged his eyes, but she had already seen the glimmer of moisture along his lashes. Her own face wet, she caught his wrist and tried to drag his hand away, the compassion she felt for him so big, so consuming, it was unbearable. “Don’t,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Don’t hide your feelings from me, Boomer. I’m here for you completely.”
He shuddered as if she’d touched an aching nerve, but he yielded to her and lowered his hand, his gaze dark and tormented. He tried to speak, but his voice gave out on him. His face contorted in agony as he shut his eyes tightly.
He was raw and hurting, but she’d be damned if he withdrew from her. He had every right to her compassion.
“Red,” he whispered, his hold on her tightening convulsively. “I’m so sorry.” He met her eyes. “Sometimes I have nightmares about the things I’ve seen, the battles I’ve fought, the brothers…I’ve lost.”
She closed her eyes, waiting for the ache of emotion to ease a little, then she stroked his head and pressed an infinitely tender kiss against his cheek. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m sticking with you through it all. I’m not leaving you.”
Boomer’s chest expanded raggedly. He dragged his hand over his face, a wild gleam of pain in his eyes from his intense and terrifying nightmare. At first, her hands were on him, drifting over his chest, rubbing the back of his neck, kissing his jaw as a way to soothe him.
Closing her eyes, she slowly smoothed her hands up his torso, savoring the damp texture of his skin and the denseness of the underlying muscles.
His chest expanded, and he twisted and dragged her under him, covering her mouth with a fierce kiss. She opened her mouth for him, and he tightened his hold on her face, his mouth soft and searching as he deepened the kiss. With the same infinite gentleness, he stroked his thumb along her jaw and reluctantly lifted his head.
Taylor couldn’t speak, her throat was so thick. Trying to will away the emotion that clogged her throat, she touched his face, her voice breaking. “I don’t have words for what just happened between us.”
He pressed his thumb across her mouth, his tone husky as he whispered, “We don’t need them. We don’t have to define it.”
She gazed at him, her eyes full of his face. “You’re right. We don’t.”
A look of deep disquiet darkened his eyes, a somber, distracted frown appearing. He smoothed back her hair, then met her gaze. “I’m glad you were here.”
Afraid to spoil what they had just shared, but knowing she had to take the risk, she touched his mouth. “It sounded like you were generalizing your nightmare, but I don’t think it’s that general.”
He winced, as if her words had touched something raw inside him. “It’s worse,” he admitted. “I lost my best friend in a blast meant for me. He died in my arms.”
“Aw, Carter,” she murmured. “I’m so sorry.” He held her gaze for a moment, then raised his head and kissed her, but in spite of the tenderness of that caress, she sensed something dark and troubling in him. Cupping his cheek, she drew away from him, her eyes questioning. “There’s more you’re not telling me.”
He held her gaze for a moment, the disquiet in his eyes deepening, then he looked away, his expression taut. “Surviving is much harder than dying,” he whispered. He rubbed his thumb against her cheek, then looked at her, his eyes bleak. “You try to compartmentalize it, tuck in a box labeled Teammates I Lost,” he said gruffly. “I know what I signed up for, and I wouldn’t give it up for the world, but that box is always there, ready to open when you’re at your most vulnerable. When you carry more than grief…it just makes it all the harder to shoulder it.”
Fighting the sting of tears, she caressed his face, her fingers unsteady. “I’m so very sorry. We both know what it’s like to blame ourselves for what happened. Emil…” He stared down at her, the strain evident on his face. “How did you get past it?”
He inhaled unevenly. “Who says I did?”
