Sand Angel Page 0,42
talk in your sleep.”
Dismay weighed heavy in his watery eyes. He shook his head and looked away. “Damn dreams.” He roughly combed his fingers through his dark hair.
Silence lingered until she said, “Well?”
“Yeah.” His response was short. It was obvious he didn’t want to talk about it, but she had to know.
Zoë inched a little closer. “Dammit, Drew. What happened?”
He clenched his jaws. For a moment she thought he would ignore her, then he said, “I accompanied Motor-T, transportation, to a camp north of Baghdad. They were short of fuel, food and medical supplies. We were about three clicks from our destination—”
“Clicks?” she interrupted.
“Three thousand yards. That’s when we were ambushed.”
Zoë felt her blood thicken. She had never let herself believe Drew was in any danger. Hell, she hadn’t let herself think at all. If she was focused on the next race, the next jump, she didn’t have to worry about anything but the finish line or landing.
“The first RPG exploded in front of our truck.” He must have realized she had no idea what an RPG was because he added, “Rocket propelled grenade. Shrapnel from the blast blew out our windshield.” His gaze suddenly became perplexed. His expression grew distant, almost as if he were a million miles away from her. “We were locked in the field of fire. Bullets ricocheted as they struck the truck, others burying into it, including into our driver.” Again, he grew silent. He clutched his hands together, his elbows resting on his thighs. His voice shook as he began to speak again. “The truck swerved. I grabbed the wheel.” He rapidly shook his head. His stare pinned on the floor. “We were surrounded—no way out. Screams.” He paused. She wanted to reach out to him, but he blurted, “Cries for help. God, I was never so glad to hear the whirling blades of the Apache ’copter overhead. The gunship opened up a spray of bullets. There was crossfire. I felt a searing slice of metal burn into my chest. I couldn’t breathe. The next thing I knew I was in the hospital.”
The tendons and muscles in his neck bulged, tightened. She could see he fought for control. He swallowed hard before meeting her gaze. “Thoughts of you were the only thing that pulled me through the months lying in that bed. I had memorized your touch, the soft, musky scent of your skin, and your kiss. But each time I woke in the darkness you weren’t there.”
No, the silent word rang in her head. She fought to restrain the emotion begging to be released. She wouldn’t feel guilty. He had been the one to walk away. Still, she couldn’t stop the pang to her heart. They had both been alone. She drew her legs beneath her, folded her arms around her to stop from reaching for him.
“I wrote,” he said as if that explained everything. His leaving—rejection.
“I know,” she replied dryly.
“Why, Zoë?” He laid a hand on her thigh. She felt the warmth of his touch as though it were a flame heating her blood. “Why didn’t you read them?”
It was her turn to let regret surface in her strangled voice. “I couldn’t.” She prayed for strength, prayed that this moment would come quickly to an end. She didn’t want to hear what he had to say, leaving old wounds gaping wide.
The harrumph he released sent a chill through her. “I wish you had. I wanted to come home, baby. Marry you. When I received no response I didn’t think there was anything to come home to. I sure as hell got the message that you had moved on.”
A knot of emptiness formed in Zoë’s throat. She couldn’t breathe—couldn’t speak. What had she done? No, wait. How could she trust him? He had abandoned her, chosen a job over her—left her.
He brushed his fingers through his hair again. “After I was released from the hospital, returned to the States, I thought maybe…”
“Maybe we could pick up where we left off?” Zoë pulled her legs from beneath her, setting her feet on the floor. He drew his hand back into his lap. She steeled her shoulders. If he ran once before, what would stop him from doing it again? “I’m not the same person you left behind.” She couldn’t contain her bitterness as she rose. “I’m sure you’ve changed in these past three years too. Fact is, you might not like the person I’ve become.” Who could blame him? Her innocence was gone. Instead