Page 41 of All The Way Under
brody
I fuckedher one more time, leisurely, doggy style, on the rock behind the waterfall, to just drive the point home that I’m done for.
It’s hard to recognize myself next to this need for her. Especially given the situation. She called my name when she came, and I lost my mind completely with emotion.
Saylor is extraordinary in a way I can’t describe. I’ll never get over her. Ever. If I lived a hundred lives, I’d look for her in each one. When this ends, and the façade becomes reality, it’s going to sting worse than anything else. Maybe even worse than the aftermath of the incident that blocked the emotional part of my damn life until now.
Saylor walks in front of me, and even though she has clothes on now, all I can see is her naked body and the indent at the bottom of her spine that I came all over. We’re in the dining building, being led to a table in the back. I’m so caught up in my thoughts, I don’t realize Collin and Turner are here eating until we’re basically on top of them.
“You’ll eat here,” Mako says.
Nery and Ravelo come in, eyeing us peculiarly. Or maybe it’s just because we disappeared for the last half of the day. It’s hard to tell, but one thing is certain. I have all the information I need to deconstruct this terrorist group. The inner workings are laid out in my mind, and the plan to dismantle them will be effortless with what I’ve learned over the past weeks.
We sit down and wait for them to bring us food. Saylor wrinkles her nose when she sees what they’re eating.
“Again,” she whines, keeping her voice low. “I may skip,” she says, mostly to herself.
Seeing her naked confirmed how thin she’s gotten. I wouldn’t call it unhealthy yet.
“You can’t skip,” I reply, swallowing down the lump in my throat.
The food has progressively gotten worse, which has been fine with the supply of the random vegetables and fruit we’ve been able to eat.
“You have to keep your strength up, even if it means eating this.”
Nery sets down two trays, and the sound ricochets off the walls. When he leaves, Turner looks me in the face, and I see the recognition. It’s terrifying because I don’t understand it or reciprocate the feeling.
The guards never put us together with the brothers. Why today? What does Turner know?
Turner shakes his head, eyes locking with mine. “Took me forever to figure it out. It kept me up at night, but when I saw you earlier today, it hit me where I know you from.”
My stomach turns to lead, and Saylor drops her fork to stare at the men on the other side of the table. We stare, her in confusion, and I, in fascinated dread.
“Where?” I ask, unable to recall any diversion tactics I learned in all my training at this moment. This is so far from an actual mission that it has me fucked up five ways till Sunday.
“We live in Maryland,” Turner says. “When I was in high school, a girl who graduated a few years ahead of me died in a car accident. It was all over the news. You were the driver of the car she was in. I saw your face plastered all over the news articles. You were at the Naval Academy with her, out on a date.”
It’s exactly as bad as I suspected. He knows who I really am, but maybe that’s all he knows about me, stuff from back then. Because of her. Because of the incident that screwed me up.
“Jocelyn,” I say, swallowing hard. Forgetting for a moment that Saylor is watching my every move and studying my words, I go on. “She was my girlfriend.”
There’s no sense in lying now. I shake my head and slam my eyes shut, knowing the nightmare will play across my lids. The hot, steaming wreckage, the scent of charred flesh. Her body.
I force my gaze to Turner’s. “So…what of it?”
“Small world, I guess,” he says. “I always remembered your name because it was tied to Jocelyn’s. It hit me hard. I followed your career,” he adds. “I know who you are, Brody. It is weird how we are tied to the things that happen to us as kids. The things we remember, the need to look up old news stories over and over, to search on the internet for the other people involved.”
I hold up a hand.
“Enough. That’s enough. We don’t need to talk about any of this. Especially here, surrounded by ears,” I explain, trying to get him to shut up before he blows my cover.
God, what a fucked-up mess that would be if Saylor finds out I’m a SEAL.
Wait, no, if the guards know I’m a SEAL, this will be over. They’ll try to kill me right here and now. There’s no way to offsetthat accusation other than to fib more or accuse Turner of lying, and somehow, I don’t think that’s my best option now that we’re so intertwined. I can’t stop thinking about Jocelyn.
“It was an accident, and it’s in the past. I’ve moved on.”
If moving meant doing everything in life for the sole purpose of forgetting it happened, punishing myself, and then stewing in the memory until the bitterness oozes out of me any chance it gets. Then yes, I’ve moved on.
