Page 66 of The Burning
“What even happened?” I joked, but was asking the question to myself, really.
“I have no clue. That was all you.” Kael leaned up on one elbow and studied my face.
I knew him well enough to know he was looking for a sign of panic, regret, anger, but he wouldn’t find it. In that moment, I just felt warm and calm and at peace with myself, with him, despite everything we had gone through. It didn’t make sense and I wasn’t going to torture myself to break down exactly why I’d kissed Kael in the first place. Deconstructing that would ruin the only happiness I had felt in weeks. Stopping myself from self-sabotage or ignorance—maybe a bit of both—was bliss. In any case, that was progress.
I took a deep breath and Kael kissed across my cheeks in a soft line. The windows were slightly foggy as I looked up, and his body blanketed mine, so even if someone approached, they wouldn’t see me. I didn’t care enough to want to move, anyway, and I was enjoying the feeling of his warm body on mine. I loved the way he didn’t just climb off me after getting what he wanted. Being in such a vulnerable state and having a man roll over as soon as he came was the kind of neglectful trauma that made me terrified to be close to anyone, but Kael had never done that, and I couldn’t imagine that he ever would. I didn’t want to think about the women he had been with before me or would be with after me—even the brief thought of it made it hard to breathe. I hugged his back tighter, burying my head into his neck.
“You okay?” he asked, always able to read my mind.
I nodded. I wondered what he was thinking, but didn’t want to ask. The silence was so enjoyable that I closed my eyes, focusing only on the present and Kael’s breath. It was cut short by a sudden chorus of shouting. Kael’s body stiffened immediately and he lifted himself up onto his knees and wiped his hand across the window to see what was going on.
“Motherfucker,” he groaned, reaching for his clothes. I had never seen him get dressed so quickly.
“What’s happening?” I pulled my panties up my thighs and yanked my legs through my jeans. I grabbed Kael’s hoodie and didn’t bother to put my bra back on.
“They’re about to fight.” His voice was calm, but I could feel his energy shifting into protective peacemaker mode. He brought his hand to my cheek, brushing his thumb across my mouth. “Stay here. I’ll be back, but you need to stay in the truck.”
He knew damn well I wasn’t going to stay in the truck, and he wasn’t the least bit surprised when I followed him out and we walked toward the group. Mendoza and another guy called Warren were in each other’s faces, both yelling in Spanish. I couldn’t remember if I had met him at my brother’s party or not, but I knew that he and Mendoza had been laughing together earlier by the campfire. I looked around to clock Elodie and make sure she was away from the chaos, but my brother was a step ahead of me and had his arm around her shoulders as they backed away from the scene. Kael went right in and immediately grabbed Mendoza’s arm while Gloria reached for the other. Warren brought his hand down to grab Mendoza, but it landed on Gloria’s arm. She yelped at the impact and before I could blink, Warren was on the ground, Mendoza on top of him.
“Manny, stop!” his wife screamed.
Kael grabbed hold of Mendoza’s shirt to pull him off, but to no avail.
“I’ll fucking kill you!” Mendoza yelled as his fist landed on Warren’s jaw. Kael tried again, and this time he had more success, but Mendoza was like a bull, blinded by anger, and he shoved Kael backward, making him trip over a pile of branches. I rushed to Kael’s side, but he was already back on his feet and going for Mendoza again.
A couple of the guys had joined Kael to break up the fight. The look in Mendoza’s eyes as they dragged him away sent a chill down my spine. He was a completely different person right now, his eyes black, mouth twisted, the corner of it dripping with blood. Gloria was quiet now, a blank expression as she stared at her husband and Kael walking away. The two of them disappeared into the dark woods.
Warren got to his feet and stepped toward Gloria. I moved between them without a trace of fear in my body. Kael would have wanted me to.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to touch you. I was trying to get him off me and didn’t see you.” Warren held up his hands.
“It’s fine,” she said, touching my arm as she spoke. Her hand was ice-cold; I could feel it through the thick cotton hoodie. When he repeated his apology, she waved him off. “I said it’s fine, just go—”
The resolve in her voice further proved how used to this behavior she was. It made me sad for her, her children, and her husband.
“You should go,” I told Warren, who was holding his jaw.
I reached for Gloria’s hand and laced my fingers through hers, leading her away from Warren and toward the log we had been hanging out on earlier in the day. It felt like days had passed, with so many changes since the sun set.
“Where do you think they went?” I asked her, nodding toward the woods where Kael and Mendoza had gone.
“Hopefully Manny fell into a fucking ditch and got some sense knocked into him.” Gloria leaned forward and grabbed the bottle of tequila from the dirt at our feet. She drank straight from the bottle and wiped her mouth off, hissing as the liquor made its way through her. When she handed it to me, I almost declined, but figured she could use a drinking partner right now.
“Do you want to talk about what happened? I understand if you don’t,” I asked, sizing up her comfort level. If she wanted to pretend nothing happened, it wasn’t my place to press her for information. I was just glad that the fight was broken up before it escalated any further.
“Same shit as always. Stupid soldiers picking at each other until one of them gets violent. I fucking told Warren to stop pushing Manny’s buttons, but he didn’t listen and got his ass beat. And my husband can’t control himself,” she said, sighing, and was still relatively calm considering what had happened.
“This is the reality of being married to someone with PTSD. He was never like this when we were young. He always had a temper but with every deployment, his mind got more fucked up. He goes in and out, in and out. Sometimes I feel like he’s slipping away and I’m afraid he will disappear completely or drink himself to death.”
I let the vulnerability of her words breathe between us before I responded. The tequila bottle was nearly empty and all of Gloria’s lipstick had faded; her eyes were bloodshot in the light of the fire burning in front of us. She leaned into me, resting her body against my side. I could feel the relief leave her small frame as her shoulders fell, starting to shake.
“Sorry, I’m not usually a crier,” she said, wiping at her eyes. I tightened my arm around her shoulders and used my free hand to press against the base of her neck and gently squeezed her trapezius muscle. It was rock-hard, and a moan fell from her lips as I pressed my fingers into it, repeating the motion.
“Do you mind? Your shoulders are so tight,” I asked her. I couldn’t help but notice how badly she needed the relief.
Gloria shook her head, and I stood up, moving behind her to use both of my hands on her shoulders. They seemed to be carrying the world and were resistant to my kneading fingers. I felt the tissue separating as Gloria rolled her head back.
“When was the last time you had a massage?” I asked after a few minutes of working on her.
