BROKEN HOPE (Broken Redemption Book 2)

Chapter 7

Emilia

He swallows hard and takes a few seconds as if he's finding the courage to go on.

"A little over 18 months ago, my team and I were running a mission just outside Kandahar in Afghanistan. There were eight of us, plus Nero. We didn't know it at the time, but the intel we received was bad and led straight into an ambush. I was the person in charge, so I took lead and commanded those who could to get themselves to safety. Three of my men made it out, but me, four of the guys and Nero were captured."

Captured?

I can't help the gasp that escapes me. He must feel the tension rising in my body, for he adjusts his hold to pull me in closer. Nero, who must sense the growing unease, stands from where he slept on the floor to lay his head on Lucas's knee.

"It's okay. I'm alright. We're all alright," he soothes with a faraway look in his eyes.

As I process what he's said, my stomach sinks. I want to believe he is in fact okay, but since those are the same words he uttered that day at the park as he recovered from a panic attack, it's clear the soothing words are meant more for him than Nero and me.

I could tell from the moment we ran into each other in that grocery store parking lot, he'd been through something terrible. Back then, I assumed the sadness that still shrouds him after all these years was linked to his parent's death. But, after witnessing his panic attack and now hearing about his capture, a terrifying picture has come to light.

I've seen the news stories. The harrowing tales of the things our soldiers endure while fighting for our country. To think of him, the boy I loved, suffering through those circumstances floods my mind with images of the terror he must have endured. The pain. The fear. And to think all the while we were here, living our lives completely unaware of what he was living through on the other side of the world. It tears me up inside and reminds me it was me who failed him. Me, who didn't do enough to keep him in Ruby Creek where he belonged.

"For 28 days, the guys and I were tortured and beaten. As the team lead, I was deemed more valuable than the others, so I was forced to watch as one by one, three of my brothers were eventually killed. The fourth, Brian, who was Nero's handler, died from his injuries as I held him in my arms." His voice breaks suddenly, and his anguish over what transpired is palpable. "I was the only one left when rescue came," his voice is gruff and unrecognizable. Giving him the space to compose himself, I curl up closer to his side and lay my hand on his chest.

"I was in such terrible shape that as the medics worked on me, they couldn't help but voice their shock that I was still alive despite my injuries. At one point, I remember them saying they didn't think I'd survive medical evac, let alone the extensive procedures I'd need to put me back together. Yet, I did survive. And throughout my recovery, I was asked over and over how the hell I endured so much for so long, and still come through on the other side." After letting out a heavy sigh, he leans over and kisses the top of my head.

"It was you, Embree. Every time I felt like giving up, it was you that came into my thoughts. My mind conjured up a life with you, along with scenarios of coming home to you. To our kids and our home. At my worst moments, you'd come into my dreams and beg me to fight. You'd demand I stay alive and made me promise that I'd make it home to you. Overwhelmed by pain and the agony of what I'd experienced, my mind created this fantasy life that revolved around you. It became the place I could go to escape the waking nightmare of my captivity. There was no pain there, no death, only comfort, joy, and love. That's what kept me alive all that time, imagining the life I built with you."

I don't realize I'm crying until he reaches out to wipe away the moisture from my cheek. I'm so overwhelmed by what he went through and the depths of comfort he found just by imagining a life with me, that I don't know what to say. Especially as I too spent so much of my life imagining what could have been had the fire that killed his parents never happened. Not only was he my first love, but he's also the only person who's ever felt like mine. Like he completes me in every way. Like he's the other half of this missing piece of my soul. So if what he's saying is true, could this mean that he feels the depth of our connection too?