So she silently waited. She realized she could wait there all night. If she could freeze this moment, she would. Maverick had broken through her carefully constructed barrier, and she knew that there was no going back. She wasn’t sure she wanted to go forward, either, but maybe the two of them could stay right where they were—frozen in this particular moment.
Of course that was impossible, but at the moment nothing seemed unreasonable. Nothing seemed real. She was safe. It was all that mattered.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Maverick wasn’t sure if he should share this story with Lindsey. He wanted to help her, but so much of his story was dark and disturbing. He didn’t want to make her more afraid than she already was and he worried that his darkness would be too much, that it would make her shy even farther away from him.
But he’d already told her he would. He couldn’t back out now or she might lose some of the trust in him that he’d managed to earn. Plus, he felt strongly about her, and he wanted to open up with her. He wanted her to know him better. And like it or not, this was a huge part of who he was. Maybe if he shared, then she would be more willing to do the same.
Only two people knew the extent of what had happened to him—Cooper and Nick. He would have gladly shared with Ace as well, but his lost brother wasn’t around. Maverick wouldn’t give up on him, though—wouldn’t give up on him coming home someday.
Taking a deep breath, he began his story.
“It was a surface-to-air missile that came up and knocked my F-18 out of the sky. My radar officer and I both ejected, but when we hit the ground, they were waiting. They shot Ken in the head right in front of me and laughed. It made their day to hurt wounded soldiers. They considered us the ultimate enemy and they took power in the fact that they thought they could do anything they wanted to us.”
“Oh my gosh, Maverick, you don’t have to tell me this,” Lindsey said in horror.
“It’s okay. I’ve come to terms with what happened. If this helps you even the tiniest bit, it’s worth telling you the story of my capture,” he said as he ran a hand down her arm. “I want to be there for you in every way I can.”
She kept quiet and listened.
“They tied me up, and beat me so badly that the first night I couldn’t see out of my right eye. I figured my days of flying were over—if I even made it out alive.”
Lindsey clung tighter to him and it made the story so much easier to tell with her there with him. Maybe she was healing him in a way he hadn’t realized he’d needed healing. He was supposed to be there for her, but she was growing on him in a way that should be a lot more terrifying than it was.
“The next few days were hell. I heard soldiers screaming in pain, and once in a while I heard the gurgling of men’s dying breaths filled with blood. Those sounds will never leave me.”
“No, I guess they wouldn’t,” she said so quietly he barely heard the words.
The fire continued crackling. They were in a cocoon the rest of the world wasn’t allowed to enter. He wouldn’t mind keeping it that way forever. It would just be the two of them.
“After a few days, I was sure I was going to die. My only regret was that I hadn’t been able to save the other men in the prison. I focused on their pain instead of my own. There were a few female soldiers there, and I can’t even explain the torture they were subjected to. There are rules to war, and these people weren’t following them.”
He wouldn’t speak of all that had happened in that prison. It was too much for civilians to handle. Hell, it was too much for many of the military crew to handle. That’s why a lot of the soldiers still weren’t doing okay, even after years of being back home. That’s why he’d had to start his organization to help as many as he could. Too many were forgotten about.
“How many people were there?” she asked.
“I don’t know how many when I first got there. By the time we were found by a special ops team and rescued, there were ten of us left—nine soldiers and a journalist who ended up succumbing to his injuries before leaving the camp.”
“Do you keep in contact with them?”
“The four of us who are left do. Two died later from complications, and the others . . .”
He stopped speaking because this part of the story might not have been the best idea for him to share.
“They took their own lives, didn’t they?” she asked.
“Yeah, it happens too often after people return from war—especially after being captured and tortured.” Anger filled Maverick even thinking about the loss of good men and women. More should be done to protect those who serve—who keep the country safe for everyone.
“I’m so sorry, Mav. I know I can’t, but I want to take away some of the pain.”
“I deal with it. Sometimes I still have nightmares. The voices of the men and women screaming—strong soldiers who were weeping like babies . . .” He trailed off, took a breath, and continued. “Certain days make it all come back to the front, such as Veterans Day, Independence Day.”
“But you stayed in the military after it happened?”
He couldn’t explain why he felt so determined to stay in the military. A lot of soldiers couldn’t go back—and they weren’t expected to. They had done more than enough for the people of the United States. But after his recovery, there had never been any question that he’d return to duty.
“Most men and women I’ve talked to feel the same. We love what we do, we love making the country a safer place for everyone. I just think of all the lives that are saved because of what we do. I wouldn’t change that. Does my job come with more risks than a desk job? Well, yeah. But it’s war. And war sucks.”