Page 5 of Resisting Temptation (Men of Honor 3)
I’ve been wondering what the hell a white American girl is doing in a place like this. Even though most of the soldiers have been evacuated and the war declared over, it still is dangerous, and the insurgency is still ongoing. Actually it’s been getting a lot worse lately, which is why I’m here. So why the hell would she be here, out of all places?
My attention suddenly shifts across the field, to an Iraqi boy who is walking toward her with a smile. He looks about eight years old and I recognize him from the first night, when she was playing with a bunch of them. The girl is clearly expecting him and is even happy to see him, if her smile is anything to go by.
And why the fuck does her smile even have shit shifting in my chest?
The boy walks up to her and hands her a single, white flower shyly. Her smile brightens as she accepts it, and she even gives the kid a kiss on the cheek. Lucky little fucker.
She sits back down and opens her arms to him. Turning, he sits on her lap and she places the guitar in his hands. Her arms go around him and she helps him strum the guitar. The kid is wearing the biggest smile on his face and they both begin to sing a song that they clearly have been working on.
Finding myself not being able to walk away again, I take a seat by the tree that I have been sitting at for the past three nights and soak in everything about her. I am seriously fucked in the head when it comes to this chick.
*
Faith
I’ve heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don’t really care for music, do you?
It goes like this
The fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
As I sing with Aadil, the sweet little Iraqi boy I met a week ago, my heart warms at the joyous smile on his face. I’m pretty sure he loves music as much as me. We have been practicing this song ever since the night he found me in this field, singing it. His English is not the best but he’s getting much better at following along with me.
I remember the day I spotted him in the trees listening to me; he had a look of wonderment across his face. He was timid when I first approached him but he warmed to me quickly. That night I had completely lost my heart to him, and every evening since he has come to this spot to be with me. The other day he even brought a bunch of friends with him and we had a wonderful time. They taught me games that they like to play and I taught them some of my favorites.
It bothers Beth that I leave camp, so I tried to have Aadil come to us. But for some reason he is scared of being spotted, so I promised him I would come here every night to be with him until the day I leave. He has come to mean an awful lot to me, in the short time we have gotten to know each other, and I will miss him dearly when the time comes for me to leave.
After we finish the song, Aadil turns to me with a big smile. “I did better.”
I smile back, “Yes, you did. Have you been practicing the words?”
He nods and his smile slips a bit. “Only here though,” he replies, tapping his head.
“Well I can tell, you did wonderful, Aadil. I’m very proud of you.”
He beams at my praise. I’m just about to ask him if he wants to play again when I am interrupted by an angry shout. Looking across the field, I see a furious man storming toward us, screaming in Arabic.
“Oh no. My father,” Aadil gasps. Pure fear washes over his face and he quickly stands. I promptly follow suit and place my hands on his thin, trembling shoulders. My heart begins to pound when I see just how angry the man is. Aadil begins apologizing profusely in Arabic, one of the very few words I know.
I quickly realize his father is upset that he’s with me. Hoping he understands English, I raise my hands and calmly try to explain I mean no harm.
“Shut up, bitch!”
Well I guess that means he understands English. Taking a deep, nervous breath I try again. He completely ignores me. As soon as he gets within an arm’s reach of us, he raises his hand to Aadil.
“NO!” Locking my arms tightly around Aadil’s tiny body, I turn us around and brace myself for the powerful blow that’s about to hit my back. But it never comes.
After a few seconds, I anxiously glance behind me to see a very tall, very scary American man. He has a strong grip around Aadil’s father’s wrist in the air, preventing it from landing on me. The American says nothing but the cold, hard disdain in his eyes say enough.
Instead of Aadil’s father looking fearful, like any sane person would at this hulking man, he becomes more furious. “You mind your own business, Soldier. You don’t know who you are fucking with.”
Soldier?
I study the American a little more closely and realize it’s a probability. I also notice how incredibly beautiful he is, probably the most beautiful man I have ever seen, and also the scariest.
Nothing changes in the soldier’s hard expression. He pushes Aadil’s father hard enough that he lands on his back. “I don’t give a fuck who you are. Get out of here now or you will be nothing but a fucking memory by the time I’m done with you.”
Whoa.
By the lethal look of this soldier I imagine he could do some very serious harm. Aadil’s father glares back at him for a few seconds before standing to his feet. He shouts something at Aadil in Arabic that has the little boy flinching. I hold him tighter and try to offer as much comfort as I can.
