OMINOUS
Laughter radiates through the tent. My unit sits around playing a game of cards. Dust swirls in the air from the sandstorm outside, and the wind howls like a wolf at the moon, letting us know it won’t let up any time soon.
We’re stuck, which means we’re buckling down for the night.
It’s been a rough couple of weeks. Months. Hell, a tough few years, if I’m brutally honest. But this is what my unit is here for. They don’t call us Special Forces for no good reason. We’re trained for fucking tough conditions, and a sandstorm in harsh temperatures is a damn walk in the park.
Just like any other Sunday.
Sitting back, I watch my best friend and sergeant below me, Jed McEvoy, making eyes at Charli. Smirking as he surveys her up and down, I shake my head at how lucky the fucker is to have his wife here on mission with him.
Charli is employed in humanitarian aid and works alongside our unit. Got to hand it to the woman. She’s got balls bigger than most of the men here with the shit she has seen. We’re deployed with Charli’s crew to help the women and children in this area. Not a job we are normally tasked with, but we go where we’re told, and at the moment, our mission is to protect these aid workers.
So that’s what we do.
I kick McEvoy’s chair leg, and his luminous blue eyes dart back to me, that stupid smirk still on his face. “You say something, Sarge?” he asks.
I can’t help but chuckle. “You know there’s still a no-fraternization policy while you’re on active duty, don’t you, McEvoy?”
He chuckles. “I mean… what happens in the tents at night stays in the tents, right?”
My gaze shifts to Charli, who is talking to some of her team members. She’s always busy, always getting shit done. We get along like a house on fire. Guess you have to when her husband is your best friend. Turning back to McEvoy, I exhale. “You don’t know how lucky you have it, man.”
He shrugs. “Yeah… I fucking do.”
Lederman suddenly rushes over and body slams McEvoy. “Think quick, Trunk,” he yells, knocking McEvoy to the ground, and they start rolling in a scramble. The rest of us laugh as Lederman grabs McEvoy’s cards and yanks them off him, throwing them in the air. “Ha! Knew you were bluffing, you asshole.”
McEvoy rolls his shoulders, pulls his chair back up into a seated position, and dusts off his camos. “You guys know I have a fucking good poker face. You’re all just pissy that I win aaall the damn time.”
“I think we need to give Lederman props for taking you out. There’s a reason we call you Trunk, and the kid just knocked you on your ass,” Porter adds.
I chuckle, sitting back with a big smile, but McEvoy’s lip curls. “Only ’cause I let him. I still hold my ‘built like a tall oak’ status.”
“Keep telling yourself that, baby,” Charli calls out from the other side of the tent, which causes us to crack up.
“Stop fraternizing with my sergeant, civilian,” I call out.
Charli smiles, holding back her laughter, but subtly gives me the finger.
I can’t help but love the atmosphere of my unit.
We’re a family—a tight-knit family.
We’ve been through so fucking much together.
We’ve lost men.
We’ve won battles.
We’ve saved lives and taken them.
But we’ve done it together.
I fucking love them all.
Even asshole Lederman.
As Porter throws down his hand and we all end this round of poker, the wind picks up, resulting in the tent rattling. Everyone stops and looks up. My chest squeezes with tension as a faint noise echoes in the distance through the wind. I narrow my gaze, but the guys start laughing, continuing their rowdy fun.
I stand abruptly, the hairs on the back of my neck rising to attention. “Shut the fuck up,” I scream at the top of my lungs.
My men go quiet, everyone turning to face me as the whistling grows louder. That feeling in the pit of my stomach erupts into full-blown panic. “Incoming missile. Drop!”
All the guys jump to defensive positions as the left side of our tent explodes. Too fucking late. The shockwave slams right through my body, then the heat takes over. My body meets hard sand. Shrapnel and flames lick at my leg, causing me to yelp out in pain while I scurry away from the carnage. Dust spins in the air as screams echo through the whirring of the wind. The sandstorm bursts through what remains of the tent, sending it to tatters while the last fragments of fabric flap about in the wind.
My ears ring, but I don’t have time to sit on my ass. Blinking my eyelids rapidly and attempting to regain some equilibrium, I reach around and grab the goggles I know were near me, and slide them on to stop the sand from getting into my eyes. I can’t help but breathe the fucking shit in, so coughing is inevitable, but my desert utility scarf is still around my neck, so I pull that up to cover the lower half of my face.
Right now, we’re in a world of hurt, and I need to help my men.
Standing with a limp, I glance around, the sand swirling in the demolished tent.
Fuck! Porter’s legs are completely blown off, and Lederman is dragging him toward the exit.
I spin, trying to locate McEvoy, but he’s nowhere near me.
I yell out. “The weather conditions fucked their aim, but they won’t miss again. Evacuate, evacuate!” I scream, grabbing my gun and dragging my feet toward the exit. I’m forced to jump over burning debris on the way, even though it hurts like fucking hell.
As I run toward the exit, I spot Charli and her team. I was sure this is where McEvoy would have come to first, but he’s not here. “Charli. It’s not safe… you all need to follow us.”
Tears gather in her eyes. “Jed?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know where he is, but once I get you to safety, I will come back for him. I swear. But we have to get out of here. They’re targeting with missiles.”
She moves in behind me and what remains of my team, who flank me as we run out and straight into a mass of insurgents headed straight for us.
“Fuck!” I yell, turning, then yank a gun out of my ankle holster and hand it to Charli. She gasps in surprise when I push her behind me while she flicks off the safety. Bringing up my rifle, I crouch down and start shooting. I have no idea how many are coming, and it’s getting real hard to breathe in this storm, even with my face covered. Visibility is an issue too, but it doesn’t seem to stop them. My heart pounds so fucking fast as I fire round after round, knowing I will run out of ammunition. Blood spurts out of their bodies while they drop like flies, but as soon as one falls, another moves in after him. My men beside me are firing as quickly as they can. All of us are coughing with the intake of tainted air. Those who are injured scream through their agony.
It’s a fucking train wreck, but one by one, the guns begin to click—out of bullets—and without us being able to go back into the ammunition tent and reload, we are in deep shit.
I grit my teeth as I watch Lederman’s gun empty. An insurgent races up to him with a knife, and they go at it hand-to-hand.
My nostrils flare, watching on as Owen and Harvey both empty their clips, then race forward into the fray.
My chest is tight from all the sand and smoke I inhaled, but I stick to my mission—my main priority being to guard Charli. I still have a clip on my belt, so I reload. I have no clue where McEvoy is located, but he’s my best friend, and I know more than anything else right now that he would want me to protect his wife. So that’s what I am going to do.
The insurgents race my way en masse, so I clench my jaw and pull the trigger, trying to wipe out as many as I can. My trigger finally goes stale, and I let out a frustrated groan. “Fuuuck!” Throwing my gun to the ground, I stand ready for battle as they race toward me.
I glance over my shoulder at Charli, and all I see is the fear in her eyes. So, I do the only thing I can think of to help her. “Charli… run!” I yell.
She takes off. As I turn back, an insurgent’s fist connects with my face, and my head snaps to the side. He pulls out a knife, but I slam my palm into his wrist, making him drop the weapon as I punch him in the stomach. He hunches over but pulls another knife from his ankle and slices it into my already injured leg. I let out a loud groan and drop to one knee. He laughs, yelling at me in his native language while kicking me in the stomach, sending me flying onto my back. Gasping for air, I’m stunned, my eyeballs swirling around my head as I try to focus, but all I see are the darkened eyes of the insurgent as he straddles me, wrapping his hands around my throat, squeezing so tight I can’t breathe.
Another blast erupts behind me, the tent going up in smoke. I cough and wheeze, my fingers gripping at his hands as panic washes over me, knowing anyone who was still inside is now gone. Frantically looking around, I see my men fighting for their lives, but we’re failing.
We’re overrun. I’ve let my unit down.
The asshole squeezes tighter, staring down at me like the black pits of hell while he screams at me in a language I can’t understand.
The sandstorm swirls, picking up in ferocity and making everything seem much worse.
I kick out but can’t shake this guy off. I can’t breathe.
Oh God… I… can’t… breathe.
My head begins to fog as I shift in and out of consciousness, black creeping in around the edges of my vision. Someone nudges my shoulder, and it’s anything but soft, the force aggressive.
I startle, and I gasp for air.
Leaning over me, I see him—his face, those evil black eyes staring down. My ears ring with the noise of more explosions.
Kill or be killed.
Adrenaline surges through me. Lunging to take him off balance, I shove him down, kneel on either side of him, and grip his neck. His whimpering does something to me. It helps me find strength. He reaches up to tear at my arm, begging for release, his fingernails sharp as they scratch and dig into my flesh. He gasps, his body thrashing beneath me as my vision clears.
I blink a few times…
Scarlett.
Pain in my ass, but she’s the one woman I can’t get out of my fucking head ever since I worked for her at the bar doing security.
Thrashing beneath me.
My hands around her neck.
Absolute fear etched on her face, her lips turning a slight shade of blue.
Scarlett?
Shit!
I rapidly let go of her throat. My fingers tingle with pins and needles at the rush of sensation forced back into them. The tightness in my chest makes it feel like I can’t breathe. I jump off her, moving off the edge of the bed and into the corner of the room. The sound of my panting breath is drowned out by her desperate, relieved gasps of air. My heart races so damn fast as she tries to catch her breath.
Her eyes glisten as I slowly sink to the floor, my ass hitting the carpet with a thud, my hand pushing through my damp hair while I rock back and forth, realizing what I have done. Oh god, what have I done? The sudden and overwhelming sense of dread and despair washes through me like a tidal wave.
She coughs, rubbing at her throat, then slowly sits on the bed, the sheet falling away from her naked body while I shake my head from side to side, trying to comprehend how fucking wrong this could have gone. How it went so wrong already.
She sniffles, her gorgeous legs dropping to the floor, and I clench my eyelids shut, trying to rid the visions of the insurgent from my mind. “Red, stop. Don’t come near me.”
But I hear her footsteps come closer anyway.
My body shakes as I sit on the floor, trying to wake from my living nightmare. Her hand gently touches my forearm, and I let out a low growl. “I don’t wanna hurt you, Red.”
After a moment of silence, I look up to see despite my warning, she hasn’t moved away. She slides in to sit beside me against the wall, biting down on her bottom lip. “Ominous... you wanna tell me what that was about?”
Letting out a deep breath, I shake my head. “I coulda fucking killed you.”
She smiles weakly, rubbing her hand-marked neck. “Choking can be fun… sometimes.”
A lump catches in my throat. My pulse still rockets, and the sound of explosions still rings in my ears, like echoes heard from a distance. My palms are slick with sweat. I push off the wall and stand abruptly. “Don’t joke about this shit. You were turning blue. And I know from firsthand experience that being choked is not fun, Scarlett, not when it’s your life or theirs, so don’t ever joke like that again.”
She slowly stands as I move around the bed, grabbing my jeans and pulling them on. She opens her mouth in surprise then folds her arms over her gloriously naked body. “You’re leaving?”
“Need a minute,” I grunt.
I’ve never seen Scarlett shaken. She’s always so outgoing, so assertive, so full of energy and extroverted. Right now, she’s a hesitant shell of her former self.
I’ve done that to her.
I’m no fucking good for her.
I’m no fucking good to anyone.
After yanking on my shirt and club cut, I pull on my boots as she continues to watch me from the other side of the bed. “I thought we were finally getting somewhere,” she says.
I let out a snort. “Just because I gave in tonight and fucked you doesn’t mean shit. There’s a reason it took me so long to give in to you, Red. Maybe you should think about that before you get all damn emotional.” The words feel bitter on my tongue, but it’s better she hates me than pines for me. I can’t risk hurting her again—not physically so if I have to hurt her emotionally to save her from me, then that’s the price I’ll pay.
Her nostrils flare, and I see that fire light inside her again. Her hands move to her hips, forcing her fucking gorgeous fake boobs to pop out while she glares at me. My dick threatens to harden, but somehow, I control it. “Fuck you, Ominous. You’re nothing but a cunt.”
I let out a scoff and turn. “You don’t know the half of it, sweetheart,” I say, then slam the door behind me.
Heaviness crashes down on my chest as I walk out of her small rental. I nearly killed the one good thing in my life tonight, all because my past still haunts my dreams. I’m never going to get away from what happened. Not a single other member of my unit survived that fateful night, and that guilt is slowly drowning me, pulling me into a void I can’t escape.
Right now, the dark calls to me. I want to submerge in it, let it devour me whole. Completely fall into the depths of the agony. My eternal madness. It’s all I deserve.
After all, I’m the reason my unit got blown to hell.
