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  His father sneered. “Maybe you should have thought about that before you betrayed your country and your family.” The Colonel pushed Will’s mother back inside and Will heard her cries even after the door had shut.

  Will stared in shock and disbelief. She had really turned him away. Shock hit him hard and he lost his balance as he stumbled to the rental car, then tore out of the cul-de-sac. He could go to Megan’s. His sister would take him in and hopefully be able to explain their mother’s strange behavior.

  Since he’d only been to her house once when he was on a short leave a year before, it took him several tries before he found it, a bungalow in an older part of town. He parked the car in front of her house, afraid to get out. The reality sunk in and he couldn’t keep it in any longer. His mother’s rejection ripped his soul in two. He leaned his face into his hands, sobbing out his pain and frustration. Several minutes passed before his car door opened.

  “Oh, Will.” His sister’s brokenhearted voice whispered in his ear. She grabbed his arm and tugged. “Come on. Let’s get you inside.”

  He allowed her to pull him from the car, and she put an arm around his back, leading him toward the front door. Glancing down with his blurry eyes, he noticed her protruding belly under her green sweater. He gasped, realizing his very pregnant sister was walking on an unshoveled path. He grabbed her elbow to help with her balance. She glanced up at him with a soft smile and his eyes teared up again. How was it that the woman who brought him into this world and was supposed to love him unconditionally turned him away, yet his sister, who owed him nothing, so willingly took him in?

  The front door stood ajar, and a lamp on the entry table flooded the room with soft light. She ushered him into the living room and pushed him down onto a sofa.

  “Let me get you some tea.”

  Will didn’t want any, but Megan had always been a firm believer that hot tea solved a myriad of problems. A trait she’d learned from their mother.

  And suddenly a memory flooded his head of Will’s mother giving him a cup of tea and a warm hug after he dropped by to tell her he’d broken up with his girlfriend Trisha. A fresh batch of tears overcame him.

  Megan’s arm wrapped around Will’s shoulders. “I’m sorry.”

  He shook his head, words escaping him as she pulled his head to her shoulder, touching her forehead to his temple. Will sobbed his mother’s betrayal. But her betrayal only reinforced the horror of his crime. Will had stood outside the school as the children’s bodies burned and listened to their screams. They’d died because of his orders and his rashness. No wonder his mother had turned him away. “She’s right.”

  Megan’s head rose. “What are you talking about?”

  He turned to look at her, his eyes widening in horror. “I’m a murderer.” He stood and spun around to face her, grabbing his hair with both hands and pulling until his scalp burned in pain. “Oh, God. I’m a monster.”

  Megan stood and cupped his face in her hands. “No. Will. You listen to me. You are not a monster.”

  “I killed those kids, Megan. I watched them die and I just stood there.” He tried to pull away, but her fingertips dug into his cheeks.

  “You listen to me, Will Davenport.” Her voice broke and tears filled her eyes. “You did not kill those children. That al-Qaeda maniac killed those children.”

  “But…” He broke down again, leaning his head into her shoulder. “They died because of me.”

  Pulling his head to her shoulder, she spoke into his ear. “You saved kids. Will. You saved nearly one hundred. What about them? It’s not your fault.”

  Not his fault. Every waking moment since it happened he wished it hadn’t been his fault. Or that it would have been him instead. “Then why do I hear their screams every time I close my eyes?”

  “Oh, Will.” Her voice broke and she wrapped an arm around his head as she cried into his hair.

  “Mommy?” A little voice called out.

  Will pulled away from Megan, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

  A little boy stood in the doorway to the kitchen, his eyes wide with fear as he watched Will. “Why are you crying?”

  “Because Uncle Will came home and Mommy is so happy to see him.” Megan swiped her tears away with her fingertips and turned toward her two-year-old son. “Dillon, I thought I told you to stay in the kitchen. You were supposed to eat your crackers.”

  The boy’s mouth formed a pout. “I ate those all gone and I’m still hungry.”

  “I’ll get you dinner in just a minute.”

  Will rested his hand on the fireplace mantle, hanging his head. He needed to get a grip. “It’s okay, Megan. Go take care of him.”

  She hesitated, worry in her eyes.

  He glanced up, his eyes pleading with hers. “No. Go feed him. I can wait.”

  Resting a hand on his arm, she rubbed his bicep. “Don’t go anywhere. I‘ll be right back.” She stared into his face, waiting for his response.

  She knew Will well enough to know that his typical response to emotionally overwhelming situations was to flee. It was a luxury he could never afford in Iraq. But he was home now and he could take off whenever he felt like it. Yet when he studied Megan’s worried face, he knew he couldn’t leave.

  He nodded.

  Reassured, Megan headed toward her son. “Okay, sweetie. I wanted you to wait for Daddy, but he’s running late.” She cast a backward glance toward Will.

  He gave her a tight smile before she disappeared behind the wall. Her soft, cheerful voice floated into the living room as she talked to her son.

  “Do you want ketchup? Sit down and I’ll get you more milk.”

  Will sat on the sofa and closed his eyes in exhaustion, the children’s faces filling his vision again. Would he always see their faces and hear their screams? Would forty souls haunt him forever?

  He deserved it. He deserved to be haunted and more. He deserved to be turned away by his mother and his father. Megan should turn him away. She shouldn’t allow him close to her son or the baby she carried. Will deserved to die in the fire with those kids and his men. Why couldn’t the Pentagon see that he deserved to be locked up in prison and the key thrown away? But then again, maybe the images he saw in his mind were a more fitting punishment. Maybe they’d haunt him until the day he died.

  Will welcomed it. And cursed it.

  “Will?”

  He jerked, startled to find Megan sitting next him.

  “I take it you saw Mom.”

  Nodding, he rubbed his hand over his mouth.

  “That’s not her doing. You know that, right?”

  He snorted, staring at his feet. “It sure seemed like her saying it.”

  “It’s Dad. You know how he is.”

  “Megan.” His gaze met hers. He loved that her eyes were full of anger and indignation. For him. She’d always been on his side, she and James. Even when Will was in the wrong. “When did Mom ever let Dad make her do something she didn’t want to do?”

  She blinked, her certainty fading.

  He smiled, but his heart felt so heavy he was sure his chest would collapse with the weight of it. “You know I’m right.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I have no idea.” He leaned back against the sofa back, staring at the ceiling. “I never even considered it while they held me in the barracks the last month. I’d planned to plead guilty from the start. I figured I’d spend my life in prison. I never once thought they’d let me go.”

  “You didn’t deserve life in prison, Will.”

  His throat tightened. “Tell that to those dead kids, Meg.”

  “Oh, Will.” With a sigh, she eased back next to him. “I’m sorry.”

  “You and me both.”

  She rested her hand on her belly. “You know you’re welcome here. I’ll never turn you away. You can stay here as long as you like. As long as it takes to figure out what you want to do.”

  Will reached to cover her hand, then stopp
ed. He didn’t feel worthy to be so close to an innocent life. He didn’t trust himself around her family. “I can’t stay here, Meg.”

  “Don’t be silly. We have a guest bedroom you can use.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  She took a deep breath. “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, you’re not going anywhere tonight and that’s settled.” She pushed herself off the sofa. “I need to check on Dillon.”

  He nodded, still not trusting himself to speak.

  “I’m glad you’re home, Will.”

  He wished he could say the same.

  Chapter Three

  The demons were worse at night. The daylight took the edge off his horrors, but once the sun set, the incident took over all conscious thought. Sometimes he swore the shadows moved when he was at his worse, a sure sign that he was losing it.

  Will sat on the edge of the bed in Megan’s guest room, his elbows on his knees. He squeezed the sides of his head, wishing desperately that he could push out the images that paraded around in his head in a never ending loop of terror. His breath came in short pants, his anxiety climbing to an unbearable level. The digital clock read 3:16.

  So it was going to be another sleepless night.

  Imaginary creatures crawled over his skin. He ripped his shirt off in a vain attempt to rid himself of them. The crawling sensation burned and Will imagined what it had been like for those kids as the flames licked their skin.

  He should have gone back in there. He should have died with them.

  Close to screaming, he took a deep breath and carefully opened his bedroom door. Dillon was in the room next to him and Will didn’t want to wake him. He crept downstairs to the kitchen and opened the back door, standing on the deck. The snow stung his bare feet and the arctic wind hit his bare chest, stealing his breath. The clouds had cleared off and the nearly full moon shone overhead, glistening on the pure white snow that covered the world.

  Will had always marveled at snow when he was a kid. It could transform the dreariest of landscapes into a magical world. If only snow could cover him and wash away his stains.

  Nothing could wash away his stains.

  He sat on the snow-covered wood, the wet seeping through his jeans. He couldn’t stay here. Watching Megan’s family earlier that evening had only proved it. They were happy. Megan and Dan’s love had only grown in the last four years. Will’s wish had come true, that one of the Davenports would know real love. A painful reminder that love and family were lost to him too. He was broken beyond repair. His soul had shattered into a million tiny pieces, spread by the wind into so many places that he had no hope of putting himself back together.

  After James had left Will’s unit and returned home, Will had changed. With James no longer around to keep him in check, Will had become hard and jaded. Cold and calculated. To become more effective at capturing terrorists, he’d begun to think like them. And while his unit was one of the most successful at rounding up insurgents, it had come at a terrible price.

  He’d scarred his soul.

  His one last hope had been his mother. She was the one person who had always been capable of giving him peace. He had prayed she could be his touchstone, his salvation. The one who could chase the demons away. But his deeds had been too much for her to bear. Her refusal to see him was the final blow. His mother was the true barometer of Will’s salvation and his worst fears had been confirmed.

  Will had no hope for redemption.

  He considered buying a gun and ending it all. Monsters were too dangerous to be left unchecked. Monsters harmed innocents. Weren’t his actions proof enough of that? He had no business infecting Megan’s family with his darkness. He needed to leave as soon as possible, but where would he go? What to do?

  Only three people had ever truly meant anything to him and he was losing them quickly. His mother turned him away. He loved his sister too much to screw up her family. That only left one person.

  James.

  What would James say? They’d barely spoken since James had left Iraq. Will had buried himself too deep in shit, and he suspected that James had buried himself too deep in guilt.

  “Will?” Megan stood in the open doorway. “What are you doing out here?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “I couldn’t sleep.”

  “Come inside before you catch your death from cold. You don’t even have a shirt on. I’ll make you some hot chocolate.”

  He released a half laugh. “Hot chocolate isn’t going to make everything better, Meg. We’re not kids anymore.”

  Taking a step onto the porch, she leaned over and tugged on his arm. “No, but it’ll thaw you out. You’re going to end up with pneumonia. Come on.”

  He stood, only because he worried about her slipping and falling on in the snow. He’d be damned if he let anything happen to her because of him.

  He sat at the kitchen table while she disappeared into the living room, returning with an afghan and draping it around his shoulders. “I take it you don’t sleep much.”

  Resting his forehead in his hand, he laughed. “How did you guess?”

  Pouring milk into a pan, she shook her head. “The dark circles under your eyes were my first clue. You nervous tics are another.” She turned to look at him. “Like the way your leg is twitching now.”

  Will put his hand on his knee, unaware he’d been shaking.

  “That’s your body’s way of trying to cope with lack of sleep.” Sitting in the chair next to him, she took his hand. “You need help, Will.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You mean like a psychiatrist? Become zombied out on drugs? No thanks.”

  “It doesn’t have to be like that. You could see a counselor, someone to talk to about what happened.”

  His heart sped up and his skin crawled again. It’s my imagination. But he had to force himself to remain in the chair. “I don’t want to talk about what happened. I want to forget about it. Leave it six fucking thousand miles away where it belongs.”

  Determination filled her eyes. “That’s not like you. Will. You’re not someone who runs away from his problems.”

  Will pulled his hand from hers, rubbing the back of his neck. “That man no longer exists, Megan. That man is dead.”

  She pursed her lips in a scowl. “I don’t believe it.”

  “Believe whatever you like. Believe whatever makes you feel better, but I prefer to be a realist.”

  Anger flashed in her eyes. “Stop that bullshit right now. It’s me you’re talking to. Sure, something terrible happened, a horrible tragedy. But you have to acknowledge it before you can move one. If you hide from it, you’ll be stuck there.”

  Will’s jaw dropped in disbelief. “Are you have any fucking idea what I’ve done, Megan? Do you have any idea?” His voice rose before he remembered that Megan’s sleeping son was above them. Further proof that he needed to leave.

  She placed both hands on his knees. “I know you were on a mission that went bad and people died.”

  “Kids died, Megan. Kids.”

  “Will, you didn’t purposely kill those children. That country is at war. Unfortunately, sometimes terrible things happen in a war. It doesn’t mean you should spend the rest of your life beating yourself up about it.”

  He shook his head slowly. “Something tells me that you wouldn’t be so nonchalant about it if Dillon was one the kids in that fire.”

  Her eyes widened as she gasped.

  “You know, it’s really easy to lump forty children into a pretty little number, but each and every one of those kids belonged to someone. Some mother is sobbing herself to sleep because I killed her son or daughter.”

  Megan’s voice rose. “You didn’t kill them, Will. That terrorist planted those bombs.”

  “I gave the order to move forward with the mission. I was the one who ignored orders to retreat. I was worried he’d get away again. Idiot. If I’d spent more time on surveillance…” He rub
bed his eyes while a new wave of pain and guilt seared his chest. “I may not have hit the detonator, but they went off because of me.”

  “No, Will. That’s not true.”

  He stood, slapping his palm on the table. Damn her for trying to absolve him of his sins. He didn’t want to sweep this under the rug like the Pentagon had done. He wanted to be held responsible for what he’d done. Yet everyone wanted to slap his hand with a “bad boy” and then expected him to pretend it never happened. Everyone except his mother, the one person he needed love and acceptance from. Her disgust was the one true measure of his crime. “I have to get out of here.”

  She stood, putting a hand on her hip. “What are you talking about? It’s not even four in the morning.”

  “I’m one fucked-up mess, Megan. I can’t stay here and infect your family.”

  “What the hell are you talking about? One mistake doesn’t make you a fucked-up mess that will infect my family.”

  Will pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead. “I wished to God that was all I’d done, Megan. It was just the big finale.”

  She paused. “What are you talking about?”

  His hand fell to his side as icy resolve covered his emotions. “Why does no one ever question how my unit was one of the most successful?”

  “Because you’ve always pushed yourself to be the best, Will.” While her words held conviction, Will heard her fear.

  He tilted his head. “That’s not good enough there.”

  “Will…”

  “I needed information to find the men we were looking for. Do you have any idea how I got it?”

  She shook her head, the color draining from her face. “No.”

  Will took a step toward her. “My unit was the most successful because I learned how to make men talk. Would you like me to tell you how?”

  Her eyes hardened as she lifted her chin. “No.”

  “People need motivators to be persuaded to tell you want they don’t want you to know.” He took another step toward her as she took a step back. “One of the very best is fear.” His eyebrows rose. “Do you know what it takes to make trained terrorists afraid, Megan?”