Page 45 of Because of Liam

“I was young, stupid, and angry at the world. Not a good combination. I could have gone to Logan. Or my grandmother. I know, either one of them would have helped. Would have loaned me the money for school, but I needed to do it on my own. I needed to prove to my father I was not dependent on anyone.”

Understanding flashes in her eyes.

“Fast forward a year and I’m a corpsman with the marines on my first tour in Afghanistan. Dr. Foster, Hannah, was the head medic and took me under her wing. She had a daughter not much younger than me and I think somehow, I filled the void from not having her daughter with her. I learned a lot from her and we watched each other’s backs. On my second tour, we worked together again with an entirely new platoon. There was this one soldier who came to the medic barracks for help. He was high on something. We have to report everything, but we especially have to report anything that could put the lives of other marines at risk. His friends tried to pressure me into lying. I didn’t. The next night, I was staying overnight at the medical unit so I could keep an eye on the guy who nearly O.D.’d. It was late, maybe two or three in the morning, and I was sleeping. There were five of them. I tried to fight back, but they overpowered me. One of them shoved a T-shirt in my mouth and put duct tape over it so I couldn’t scream. They carried me into the dunes, under the cover of darkness, and started to taunt me. They said I had to learn a lesson in loyalty and how not to turn my peers in. They tied my hands behind my back. In the beginning, it was just shoving and pushing. Then the punches started. They made sure not to hit me in the face or any place marks would show. They told me if I talked, they’d come back and kill me. It would be easy. Friendly fire in the chaos of battle. It would come, I’d just never know when. I tried to fight back and the more I kicked at them or shoved back, the angrier one of them got. He said the beating was not breaking me down. He said there’s a sure way to break a man and I would soon learn how.”

I let go of River’s hand and fist my own. The rage and fear come back to me. I breathe through it, willing the anger away before I speak again.

“This one guy told the others to hold me down. Then he told me he was going to rape me. It would be my punishment for not keeping my mouth shut. Two of the marines holding me tried to talk him out of it. He threatened them as well. They shut up and held me down. I fought them even harder, but they were marines. They had the same training I did. One of them put me on a headlock—while the others held me still—applying just enough pressure so I wouldn’t be able to fight but not pass out either.”

New tears pool in River’s eyes, and she’s shaking.

“Hannah saved me. She came to the barracks to check on me and she heard sounds coming from the dunes. She saw the lights from their flashlights and followed it. She walked up to them and pointed her rifle directly at the head of their ringleader.”

“They didn’t . . .” she whispers.

“They didn’t. Hannah stopped them before they could do anything. She stopped them just in time. Two days later all five of them had been transferred to different units. I don’t know how or what happened to them. Hannah never said a word about it to me, but I have a strong suspicion she was behind their transfer. We never talked about it or what happened. I owe her my life. Three times over.”

“Three times? What do you mean?”

“On our last tour, we were working at a village together. It was a show of goodwill toward the villagers. We vaccinated kids, treated the elderly, pregnant women, and anyone who needed help. At the end of the day we were packing and about ready to leave when the first shot broke the quiet. Everybody ran for cover, hiding behind trucks and walls. I ducked behind our medic truck and Hannah was across the road. She ran and hid behind a crumbling wall. It was barely big enough to give her cover. It wasn’t safe. Nowhere was.” I have to stop and take in a few breaths before I allow the barrage of images flooding my mind to come forth.

“Training kicked in and our group assessed the situation from whatever position they were in. We located three shooters on top of a building fifty or so yards away from us. Hannah was in a bad spot and she knew it. We decided to lay down cover fire so she could move to a safer spot. The team started to shoot at them, but when Hannah tried to run across the road, the first bullet hit her.”

River gasps at this and reaches out to me, her hand finds mine, our fingers lace and I draw strength from her touch.

“There was a fourth shooter, hiding behind us—we didn’t see him. We were trapped between them. I ran to her and trying to shield her, to get to her before any more shots came. The truck I had been hiding behind exploded. It’d been hit by a grenade. That was the second time Hannah saved me. If I hadn’t run to help her, I would’ve blown up with that truck. I got to her just as the truck exploded and another bullet hit her. I caught her before she hit the ground, but I knew it was too late. As I held her in my arms, her body shielded me from the explosion and took most of the impact, most of the shrapnel. That’s how she saved me a third time. We both fell to the ground. I rolled her under me. I refused to believe she was dead. A secondary explosion knocked me unconscious but not before I felt the impact of hot metal hit my back and side.”

River’s face is washed in tears now. My own vision blurs, my voice trembles.

“When I came to, two of my men were dragging me into a building. I was still holding onto Hannah. The rest of it is fuzzy. I was in and out of consciousness. A backup team arrived soon after. They caught the shooters. All of them. Hannah and I were airlifted to base. The only next-of-kin I had listed in my records was Mary. She was the one they contacted. Mary knew the last thing I wanted was for my parents or Logan to know what happened to me and she kept my secret. I know it cost her, but she did it because I asked her to before I left—if anything happened to me, I didn’t want my parents to know—and she promised me she would keep her word. Mary was the only one I communicated with regularly. I called Logan every so often—he sent me a lot of text messages, but I never responded. I think Mary kept him informed too, but she didn’t say anything to anyone about me being hurt. She kept her promise.”

“They still don’t know?”

“No. Logan has no idea. My parents don’t even know I’m back. I told no one. None of this. No one knows what really happened.”

She bites her lip and leans into my chest. My arms go around her. I pull her closer to me and we stay like this for a long time. We’re both lost in thought. Slowly, her sugar and cinnamon scent replaces the smell of blood in my memories. The heat from her skin warms the cold in my soul. Her touch heals my pain. Her presence chases away ghosts. Like always, when she’s near me, there isn’t room for anything else. She fills all my dark and empty spaces until there’s nothing left, but I need to pull her closer to me still. I tighten my grip on her—a drowning man holding on to the last source of air.

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