But I didn’t tell Liberty any of that because I was too afraid to open myself up.
“Who are you if not a soldier,” I finished for her.
Liberty smiled and dipped her chin.
“I figured you’d get it. You’re pretty much in the same boat I am. Surrounded by men, having to work three times as hard to earn their respect. I feel like I’ve been doing that so long I don’t know how not to do it.”
Yep. I was in the same boat.
“There’s a rush that comes with it. Not adrenaline. Not the same rush you get kicking in a door, but a rush all the same. Accomplishment is addictive. It becomes necessary. It pushes you to be better, do better, prove to yourself you’re the best you can be.”
Liberty was staring at me with her crazy-cool cat-like eyes and I suddenly felt exposed.
Vulnerable.
“You have a purpose,” Liberty said. “A personal mission.”
God, we were the same.
That was exactly what I felt.
“I lost that purpose once,” she continued. “After I was taken and Drake, Logan, Matt, and Luke found me. After the explosion. Trey almost lost his leg. And Luke, he lost everything that day. I was drowning in guilt and couldn’t see myself through it. I’d failed. Everything I’d worked so hard for seemed like a mistake. Drake held me through my nightmares. My family propped me up when I fell. And once again I had to work my ass off to get back to me and I did. I made it through. So, what happens when I get out and that personal mission is gone? Who am I? What am I working toward?”
I swallowed, then I swallowed again but the lump in my throat was stuck. The warmth of the day was now stifling. The sun felt like it was blistering my flesh. Panic rose and I wanted to flee.
“Shiloh?”
I was weak. So fucking weak.
I’d been wrong.
“I’m not like you. I thought I was. But I’m not.”
“What?”
“As you were talking, I was thinking we were the same. Because of our jobs. How we feel about them. But I’m not like you. I’m weak. I don’t deserve my place on my team.”
As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized they were the truth. That was what I was struggling with. Acknowledging I was not strong enough, I wasn’t tough enough, I wasn’t as good as my teammates, as my brothers.
“Why would you say that?”
“Because I am weak. Because I can’t stop the nightmares. I messed up and a girl is dead. Her father is broken, and that’s on me. I did that.”
God, I was gonna throw up.
“She didn’t scream,” I blurted out. “She was so scared she didn’t make a peep.”
“Who’s she?”
“Penelope. All she did was go to work and died. Her dad watched. He begged me to save her. I didn’t. And he saw his daughter’s head explode. He has to live with that for the rest of his life.”
Compassion shone on Liberty’s face and my insides turned to ice. I didn’t deserve that emotion.
“I need to go.”
“No.” Liberty reached out quick as lightning and grabbed my hand. The instinct to fight rushed to the surface. “Don’t, Shiloh. You know I mean you no harm.”
The last thing that needed to happen was Liberty and me getting into a brawl, and she was right; I knew she meant me no harm but I still didn’t like her touching me.
I felt Luke's presence before I saw him.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
I didn’t answer because overwhelming embarrassment had taken over.
“It’s all good, Luke. Just give us a minute,” Liberty told him.
“Shiloh?”
“I’m good,” I gritted out.
“Nuh-uh, you’re not good. What the hell is going on?”
“You’re right, Shiloh’s not good. But if you give us a minute, I’ll see that she gets that way.”
“Really, I’m good. I shouldn’t’ve said—”
“I’m gonna tell you something, Shiloh, something that was told to me at a time when I didn’t want to hear it, which means it was the time I needed to hear it most,” Liberty started, and I braced. “It was said at a time when I was overcome with guilt. A time when my power had been taken from me and I was lashing out at everyone who dared to speak to me. A time when all I felt was weakness.
“Right now, that guilt that’s eating you up, it feels good under there, it feels safe. It feels right to wrap yourself in it because you think you deserve it. You feel weak? Change