PRIVATE: A Military Romance Novel (Military Men Book 2)

by Leila Haven

  Rafter held his body firm, his muscles clenched in his jaw as we passed by a window. I wondered if his heart was banging against his ribcage like mine. The tiniest of noises had me on edge, fueling my determination to stay focused and strong.

  Like Rafter had said, this was only the beginning of our months of deployment. I needed to step up, I didn’t want to be responsible for any of my comrades being hurt. I wanted to contribute, help win this miserable war, and not let my family down.

  We rounded a corner and entered another room, the first we’d come across. It was in the middle of the building, with no windows to illuminate the space. The man could have been hiding in any one of the many shadows.

  Before I knew it, the hunted had become the hunter. Our target was on the move, right toward Rafter. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion, yet I still couldn’t get a clear shot off without risking Rafter’s life in the process.

  “Watch out,” I cried, but it was too late. Rafter didn’t have a chance to process the information and defend himself before the man was on him. He had Rafter by the throat, the polished silver of his knife reflecting a beam of light from just under Rafter’s chin.

  “I will kill him,” the man said, a cruel twist to his lips. “Give me your gun.”

  The piece of steel in my hands was pointing firmly at him. I had to make a decision in a split second. Someone was not going to survive the confrontation and I didn’t want it to be our side.

  I couldn’t think.

  I couldn’t move.

  Rafter’s eyes stared at me while his head gave me an almost imperceptible nod. It took a moment for the signal to sink in. He trusted my abilities, he was giving me permission to hold his life in my hands with my next actions. Maybe his opinion of me wasn’t as bad as I thought it was. This was life and death, and Rafter was telling me to do what I was trained for.

  It was time I proved to him what kind of soldier I really was.

  Through the small spots of sun filtering in through the door I could see the man’s eyes. They weren’t scared or worried, he stared me down with nothing but hatred blazing behind his brown eyes. He was determined to win.

  But so was I.

  My finger tugged on the trigger and fired. The bullet pierced the man’s head, blood rushed from the wound as he staggered backwards. Rafter quickly left his hold and spun around to train his gun on the man. There was no need, he wasn’t even moving anymore.

  I’d taken his life.

  No matter how many times I told myself it was justified, I still couldn’t shake the horrible feeling swelling in my gut. A life was still a life.

  “Are you okay?” I asked Rafter. He nodded and prodded the body of the man on the ground, double checking that he was definitely dead. My gaze rose to Rafter. “You’re bleeding.”

  His hand went straight up to his neck, holding the wound there. Blood seeped through his fingers. “Bastard cut me.”

  I quickly grabbed a handkerchief from my pocket and held it out. “Use this, it will be cleaner.”

  Voices from the corridor started to grow louder. It was the chatter of our side, not those of the Taliban. Rafter seemed to be a bit dazed as he slumped against the wall.

  “This room is clear,” I called out, only a minute before faces of our troop appeared in the doorway. “We’ve got one man down.”

  Rafter turned away so his injury couldn’t be seen. He stayed that way until the men moved on. We were alone again before he spoke. “We need to get out of here.”

  “You need medical attention for that wound. It’s still bleeding.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t.”

  Rafter pushed past me without further explanation. I followed him obediently as we hurried through the building and out into the harsh heat of the day again. The smell of gunfire still lingered in my nostrils.

  He kept moving until we were a few blocks away from the bank. Rafter sat in the middle of what once was a small house, now just debris and the resemblance of four walls. The handkerchief was completely stained red against his neck.

  “You need to get back to base so a doctor can stop the bleeding,” I told him. Every second we hesitated could mean the difference between life and death.

  “It’s not that bad.”

  “Yes, it is. We have to go.”

  Once more, he shook his stubborn head. “I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can,” I insisted. “You know all injuries must be reported and attended to as soon as possible. It’s protocol and it’s also smart.”

  “I can’t, Kincaid.” He stared at me, trying to convey something he couldn’t by using words. It took a few minutes for me to understand.

  “Because we shouldn’t have been in there alone?” I asked. He gave a solemn nod. “I’m sure they’ll understand if we explain. I mean, we got the result we needed, right?”

  “I’ll be reprimanded regardless of the outcome. The major needs unquestioning obedience from his soldiers. We are supposed to follow orders. If they find out about this, they will take away my promotion.” His gaze went skywards as he kicked a stone and sent it skittering. “My first mission as corporal and I fucked it up. Bloody hell, I shouldn’t have gone down that fucking corridor.”

  My mind raced as I tried to think of a solution. Back home, my brothers were always getting into trouble and needed help getting out of their sticky situation. I was an expert at thinking up excuses and alibies. My brothers would have been in jail a dozen times if I hadn’t been there to help them.

  Unfortunately, my mind was just a vortex of swirling brain matter. There was no way to deny we had gone off on our own. Others had seen us in that room alone, we couldn’t ask them all to cover for us.

  I let out the breath I was holding. “Let me see how bad your injury is. Maybe I can do something to help without needing a doctor.”

  Rafter pulled back the sodden handkerchief. The terrorist’s knife had scraped against his neck, puncturing a vein. It was messy but it didn’t appear to be life-threatening. The blood flow had been downgraded to an ooze instead of a gushing river.

  “I can clean it up. You might be able to get away without stitches,” I said. “We’re going to need to find some water and plasters.”

  “I have water and there is a first aid kit in the truck.”

  “We should hurry then.”

  Rafter kept the handkerchief pressed to his wound while we returned to the truck. It took almost an hour as we weaved our way through the streets. He barked some orders to the others while we went, making sure they were firmly away from the truck for a few hours.

  When we finally arrived, he told me where to find the first aid kit while he sat in the back of the truck. My hands were shaking as I joined him.

  “You’re going to need to lie down,” I said, picking up the bottle of water. “It’s going to hurt too. Sorry.”

  He lay down awkwardly, trying to angle himself so the water would run out the back instead of pooling on the floor of the truck. I took the handkerchief from him and starting pouring water over the wound.

  Rafter winced but he didn’t complain. His neck had to be killing him with pain by now. I had no choice except to use the handkerchief to help clean the cut. I kept dabbing at it until all the dried blood was gone and only the fresh blood remained.

  It seemed like an incredibly intimate act to be doing to him. I was in his personal space, tenderly touching the sensitive skin of his neck.

  I used some gauze from the kit to dry the area and completely inadequate plasters to pinch it closed. If he kept his collar up he could do a pretty good job of hiding it.

  “You did well out there, soldier,” Rafter said, wincing from the pain.

  I wasn’t going to admit how much I enjoyed the compliment and the way he called me ‘soldier’. It was the first time he’d ever acknowledged my work. “It could have easily gone the other way and ended differently.”

  “You were confident and quick, you did what you needed to in the moment. Many
others wouldn’t have been able to do that,” he continued

  For a moment our eyes locked together and I was speechless. All I’d heard from him was how I didn’t belong there and now he was admitting he had underestimated me – maybe not in so many words, but I would take what I could get. “It’s what I was trained for, I did nothing special.”

  Rafter shrugged and then remembered his injury as the pain rippled through him. “Well, thanks, anyway. I’m glad I’m alive to tell the tale.”

  Silence settled between us as I worked on his injury.

  “Stitches would work better but I think it’ll hold for now,” I said as Rafter sat up again. “You’ll probably have a scar.”

  He gave a weary smile. “Chicks dig scars, right? I’ll be irresistible now.”

  “I thought you were before.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. I felt like slapping myself for the slip.

  An uncomfortable silence followed my stupid comment. Rafter only broke it when he cleared his throat. “Thanks for patching me up.”

  “You’re welcome. What do we do now?”

  “We pretend nothing happened and continue on with our jobs.”

  “What if someone else reports you? Any of those men could rat you out to the major.”

  “They won’t,” he said with confidence. I couldn’t be so sure. In my experience, it was usually those you trusted most that would betray you.

  High school had been a bitch for me. I knew the lesson well.

  “I’ll check in with the others and decide on where we need to go next,” Rafter said, standing and pulling out his cell already. He was probably dizzy from the loss of so much blood but he wasn’t going to admit it.

  Men.

  They were all the same.

  Chapter 7

  Matt

  ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉

  It had been a long day when we returned back to base at nineteen-hundred hours. All my men were exhausted and covered in dirt. There was only one thing we wanted more than a soft mattress and that was food.

  The mess hall was the bustling heart of our base. Voices all mingled together as we ate, enjoying the safety and comradery while together and off duty. The inviting smell of mass-produced meals drifted through the air.

  I’d finished my tray and was listening to Watson tell us stories about his girl back home when I was summoned to the major’s office. My stomach fell to the floor when I received the note.

  I tried not to look guilty as I approached his office. Like all the buildings there, it was temporary. One day, after we win the war, there would be nothing left of the base.

  Kincaid was already sitting in his office when I entered. Instantly, I knew what the summons was about. Someone had ratted on me and now I was going to be held accountable for my mistake at the bank building.

  I wondered if the rat was her.

  More than anything, I hoped it wasn’t. I could accept anyone else other than Kincaid. Perhaps it was because she had looked me in the eyes and promised she wouldn’t. Perhaps it was for other reasons I didn’t want to deal with yet.

  “Sit down, Rafter,” Major Atoll said with no hint of friendliness in his voice.

  I took the seat next to Kincaid and tried to calm my frayed nerves. I’d never received a reprimand before in my career, and I’d hoped I never would. One stupid fucking mistake and they were going to rake me over the coals for it.

  But, at the end of the day, I would have done it again if given the chance. That motherfucking bastard deserved what he got and he might have managed to get away if we hadn’t pursued him.

  The only thing I regretted was leading Kincaid astray. I put her life in danger by going down that corridor without backup and she didn’t deserve that. She wasn’t experienced enough to deal with what might have occurred down that corridor. It could have ended much worse than it did.

  “I heard a troubling story today,” Atoll started, immediately getting down to business. “A story that said you broke protocol and led your team astray, putting everyone in danger. You know I can’t let this go, not when the safety of my soldiers is paramount. Maybe I made a mistake giving you that promotion.”

  I took a deep breath, ready to confess all and accept the consequences. The demotion was going to hurt, especially when I’d have to explain to my mother why I was no longer a corporal. She was going to be very disappointed in me, I could picture her face already.

  “Sir, I—“

  “It was me,” Kincaid said suddenly, interrupting my speech. I shot her a questioning look but she refused to glance my way. “I saw the target slip into the corridor and I ran after him. Corporal Rafter followed me but I was caught up in the moment so I didn’t hear his warning to stop and wait for backup. It was my fault the incident happened, he did nothing wrong.”

  A million things flashed into my mind all at once. I couldn’t let her take the fall for my mistake. She was a rookie and an error of judgment like that could see her sent home and dishonorably discharged from the Army.

  It was my problem and I needed to make sure it was me who took responsibility. “Sir, Kincaid—“

  “Don’t try to cover for your new recruit,” Atoll said. His brows crinkled together with a mixture of disappointment and anger. “She has to take responsibility for her actions. Every soldier must learn that lesson at some stage, the earlier the better.”

  “Sir—”

  “I take full responsibility,” Kincaid interrupted again. This time she shot me a look that said she would kill me if I spoke up again. “I will accept whatever punishment you deem fit, sir.”

  My teeth clamped together as I fought to remain quiet. Confusion was the main emotion blaring in my head. I didn’t know what Kincaid was up to and I hated the whole situation. She shouldn’t be taking the blame for my mistake. I would never let someone take the rap for me. What was she up to?

  “Leave us, corporal. Private Kincaid and I need to have a serious discussion.”

  I shot a final pleading look at the confused woman but her gaze held steadfast staring at the major. It was against every instinct I had to walk away and let her take the fall for me.

  Major Atoll glared at me as I slowly retreated. Every footstep yelled at me to turn around and confess. I wanted to, badly. But Kincaid appeared determined to lie about the whole thing.

  “Close the door behind you,” Atoll called out, another reminder that I was done with the meeting and not invited to partake any further.

  I closed the door but I couldn’t return to my bunk and pretend everything was okay. Not when Kincaid was bearing the brunt of the punishment that I should have been receiving.

  Atoll’s assistant glared at me as I lingered, silently telling me I wasn’t welcome to loiter when my meeting was over.

  I took a walk around base, trying to find anything to take away the storm blazing inside my head. If Kincaid was discharged for my mistake I was going to have to tell the major the truth. He would have to believe me eventually so I could get what I deserved.

  It was just such a monumental fuck up. One split-second decision and the career of a soldier was left hanging in the balance.

  My feet found their way to the women’s quarters. I stood outside Kincaid’s dorm room, ignoring the curious glances of the female soldiers as they went around undertaking their business.

  *

  After an hour I was in panic mode. It was too long for Kincaid to still be in the meeting with Atoll. Surely he would have let her return to her bunk to gather her things before they shipped her off? It wasn’t like they would have a plane waiting just to take her home. That wasn’t how things worked in the middle of nowhere.

  I was just about to give up when she walked down the corridor in my direction. My nerves stood on end as I waited for the verdict.

  “You shouldn’t have done that,” I said. The hundred different conversations I’d had with her in my head while waiting vanished into thin air.

  “Shh, not here.”

 
; She pulled me into her dorm room and closed the door. We were alone with only empty bunks to witness our conversation.

  “He was going to take away your promotion,” she started, as if everything should have been blatantly obvious. “I couldn’t let him do that. Not when we did the right thing by following that terrorist.”

  “It was my mistake. I should have been the one suffering the consequences.” My anger was rising, more for the situation than her actions. “You shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “You want to know what my punishment was?” Her arms crossed over her chest. The swell of her boobs was starkly apparent as I tried not to look in that vicinity.

  “Yes, I do. Then I will go to Atoll and tell him everything.”

  “He gave me an informal warning. It’s not even going to be recorded on my file. I got a slap on the wrist because it was my first mission. You were going to lose your promotion, and I knew Atoll would go easy on me. It wasn’t a difficult decision.”

  It took a moment for her words to sink in. She got off with nothing more than a stern talking to? Even so, it felt wrong that she was taking the blame. “You didn’t know that would happen. You could have been thrown out on your ass.”

  “It was a calculated risk.” We locked eyes for a few moments as I tried to hold onto the anger. She had a way of disarming me and I didn’t like it. I was her superior, she should have been afraid of me.

  “It’s still wrong,” I muttered.

  Kincaid took a step closer to me, making my heart kick up a beat and thud faster in my chest. “You’re a good soldier, you deserve to be a corporal. Demoting you now would have caused the whole team to lose out. Please just accept this and we never have to speak about it again. I can live with that, can you?”

  I didn’t like it.

  It wasn’t right.

  A lifetime of taking responsibility and doing the right thing made every inch of this stink. But, I had to admit, Kincaid was right. I would have lost my promotion and she got off as lightly as possible. We could go on without anything changing.