“I’ll tell you the same thing I told your buddy; I’m working on it. If you want to risk this being traced back to you, then take out an ad on fucking Craigslist.”

“You better not be messing around or I’ll have to think of a little . . .” he trails off and looks at the ceiling in deep thought, “motivation.” My eyes drill holes in him, understanding exactly what kind of motivation he’s referring to.

“Noted.”

“I want this done within the next two weeks.” He doesn’t wait for my response, he just leaves.

When I turn back around, I’m met with two shocked faces. “What?” I ask gruffly.

“You’ve got balls, man,” Bruce says, shaking his head. Dried blood crusts around his nose and down his face.

“Yeah,” Rodney agrees, “Mr. Fitzgerald’s punished people for a whole lot less than the shit you just pulled.” This definitely gets my attention.

“What do you mean?”

“He just doesn’t let people disrespect him like you do,” Rodney replies. They both walk over to the couch and slump down on it, but I’m not done prying a little.

“You’re saying he had the balls to take out a guy like me?” I’m trying not to seem too eager to get information, but I need more from these guys. They might know something about Cal and his connections with the cartel.

“We don’t really know anything. One day we see the guy, the next day we don’t,” Bruce offers up. I let it go for now, satisfied with this small detail.

After everything calms down, I’m lying on the damn smelly mattress again thinking about the person who consumes my every thought.

Elizabeth.

Now that the adrenaline and all the other shit has settled, the day hits me like a Mack truck. I thought our reunion would have been a more pleasant experience and not so damn scary. I’ve stared death in the eyes plenty of times in my life, but nothing terrified me more than watching her chug all those pills. A cold sweat runs down my back just thinking about the what ifs. What if we didn’t tap into the hidden cameras? What if I had shown up a few minutes later?

What if she had died?

Those thoughts get expelled from my mind as I focus on the positives. Taking in a relaxing breath, I envision her in my arms, tucked beneath my chin as I hold her tight. This is my happy place, my home. It’s where I feel most at peace. Even though she was crying in my arms, absolute contentment washed over me while I held her. She consumes all of my senses and completely owns me. Owns my soul. I missed the feel of her hair as I ran my fingers through it, the smell of her vanilla skin as I buried my face in her neck, the taste of her perfect lips, the sound of her voice as she said my name, and the sight of her bright smile.

Her vibrancy was completely gone when I stared at her lying on that bed waiting to die. It was painful to see her like that. There was no passion, no drive, but there was something more disturbing than that.

There was no will.

I know she loves me and I’m sure my “death” impacted her significantly. Hell, I’d be a complete wreck if I thought she was dead. But I wonder if there’s something more to her depression, something that pushed her over the edge. Whatever it is, I swear on my life she will find happiness again. I’ll make sure of it.

I’M SICK OF being sent to this shit hole. It’s my fourth deployment and it’s taking its toll on me. It’s the same thing day in and day out. Find the bad guy, try to bring him in alive, take him out if the first option fails, and above all, don’t get yourself killed.

I’m holding up position in an abandoned building, keeping my sights down the street where the rest of my team will come down. Our mission is to take in this guy who’s been making IEDs. They prefer for us to take them in alive to get more information from them, but it usually doesn’t work out that way.

The streets are quiet, almost too quiet as I look around for any movement. This is always a bad sign. When there aren’t any kids playing or people walking around, we know shit is about to go down.

“All’s quiet here. Keep your eyes open,” I say into my radio, letting the rest of my team know that I’m set up.

“Copy that.” A few minutes later, I see my team come around the corner of the building I’m in. They move from building to building, taking cover and surveying the area before advancing. I look through the scope of my gun to check the windows of the surrounding structures to make sure no one else is doing what I’m doing. My guys are almost to the target location when shots ring out. I quickly look around, trying to find out where it’s coming from.

“Fuck,” I whisper to myself. It’s my job to make sure the path is clear and I know I’m fucking it up. Shots go off again, but this time I see the muzzle of a gun coming out of a window. The asshole holding the gun is in the shadows, so I can’t make out his face. I line up my shot and aim for a few inches above the barrel, knowing that it’ll hit him in the chest if he’s standing upright, or the face if he’s got the gun pulled in and aiming. My lungs take in a deep breath, I hold it for a beat, and squeeze the trigger as I release it. The shot is fired and the gun falls out of the window. The shooter comes into the light where I follow his movements to make sure he dies. That’s when I notice it’s not a man, but a woman. She stumbles a little in front of the window and grabs the front of her hijab and pulls it down to expose her face. That’s when my heart stops.

Elizabeth.

She looks at me from across the road with wide eyes¸ her mouth hanging open as she clutches her chest. A second later she collapses.

“No!” I shout out as I jump out of bed. Just like the last nightmare I had with her in it, it takes me a second to get my bearings and realize that it wasn’t real.

“What the fuck are you shouting for?” Rodney grumbles, obviously pissed off I woke him up.

I wipe the sweat off my eyebrow and work on regulating my heart rate. “Nothing.” He doesn’t ask any more questions and rolls over on the couch and passes back out.

God, it felt so real, so vivid. It seems like each nightmare I have with her in it gets worse and worse. I rub the back of my neck with a shaky hand. With as frequent as they’re becoming, I can’t help but get a bad feeling about it. My actions have directly and indirectly caused her deep emotional pain. So much so that she thought her only way to stop the suffering was to take her own life. Maybe I’ve already killed her.

I’ve just parked the car and am on my way to see Elizabeth. Rodney and Bruce didn’t question me much when I told them I needed to go out. Honestly, I get the feeling they might be keeping their distance after their ass beatings and my showdown with Cal. They kept eyeing me up all morning and didn’t try to push my buttons like they usually do. They’re supposed to be the hired badasses that watch over me, and now they are walking on eggshells around me. It almost makes me laugh.

Pussies.

After my dream last night, I had to see her. I have to know she’s really okay and is going to hang in there until I can end all of this. I’ve never felt about a woman the way I do about her. I’ve had women in my life, but I’ve never cared this much. There’s just something about her that’s almost indescribable. It’s not one particular thing I can point to that makes her amazing. It’s just her as a whole. She’s the blood in my veins, the air in my lungs. I wouldn’t be able to function without her in my life.

Tyler lets me into the SUV after knocking on the window. “How is she?” I ask him.

“She’s not great, but she’s okay.”

“I need you to kill the feed so I can go see her.”