Chapter 10 - Russell

Lyla's insistence hits me like a sucker punch. A large, irrational part of me actually wants to unburden the darkness I've carried for so long - to finally give voice to the trauma and regrets that have haunted me relentlessly all these years.

I've never dared speak the details aloud before, fearful of unleashing the toxic flood once the dam breaks. But she's right - keeping it bottled has become a soul-crushing weight, slowly crushing me from the inside out no matter how hard I try to bury it.

And if I'm being frank with myself...I feel an instinctive pull to confide in this stranger right before me. Perhaps because I recognize, on some fundamental level, that she'll be gone from my life just as quickly as she barreled into it.

The idea of purging my sins to someone who won't stick around to judge or pity me is perversely appealing.

"Are you sure you really want to know?" I ask gruffly, holding Lyla's curious gaze. "It's not an easy story to tell...or to hear."

Rather than hesitate or back down, she nods solemnly and propels herself closer through the calm waters until we're only a few feet apart. Stray droplets rain down from her dripping hair, trailing tantalizingly down the slopes of her breasts just visible beneath the surface.

I suck in a sharp breath, hastily tearing my eyes away from the charming sight. Now is definitely not the time to be entertaining those kinds of thoughts.

"I'm ready whenever you are," Lyla says softly.

Nodding jerkily, I force myself to meet her guileless stare once more.

"Okay, I'll start from the beginning then. You have to promise to let me take breaks here and there. I've never actually voiced this shit out loud before."

Lyla holds my stare steadily, "I won't say a word until you're finished. Take all the time you need."

Closing my eyes for a moment, I let the sounds of nature in this isolated haven wash over me—the distant trill of birds and the gentle lapping of waves against the rocky shoreline.

When I open them again, Lyla is watching me with a small, encouraging smile.

"I joined up right out of high school," I begin gruffly. "My best friend Aaron and I were both eighteen and dumb as rocks back then. We thought serving in the military would be a really noble way to protect our country. An opportunity to be real heroes, you know?"

I shake my head ruefully, a humorless chuckle escaping. "Looking back, we were just a couple of naive kids buying into the hype without a clue..."

My trailing words hitch as the first flashes of memory assault me - the sweating slog of basic training, the dry mouth fear of being deployed overseas for the first time. My hands start to tremble tellingly.

Before I can second-guess myself, Lyla reaches out and clasps one of my shaking hands firmly between hers.

"I'm right here," she murmurs, holding my gaze as she gives a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “Take your time."

Drawing strength from her grounding presence, I forge onward.

"We were so damn happy when we finally got called up to a war zone," I continue, "Felt like real heroes about to go save some lives, you know? Like we were invincible." I bark out a harsh, mirthless laugh. "I quickly learned it wasn't quite the brotherhood fairytale they sell in the recruitment videos. There was no camaraderie, no one watching your back. We were just a bunch of grunts left to fend for ourselves in that hellhole."

Lyla's eyes widen slightly, but she doesn't interject. Instead, she squeezes my hand in mute support as I do my best to continue.

"I saw...things over there that still give me nightmares to this day. But that wasn't even the worst of it." My free hand clenches into a white-knuckled fist beneath the water's surface. "Aaron went out on a routine patrol one day...without me. And he never came back."

The anguish rises like bile in my throat as I violently slam my fist down, sending up an eruption of water droplets. Lyla instinctively flinches back, shoulders tensing.

"Hey," I croak out roughly, "you don't have to be afraid of me, okay? I would never..."

But she's already shaking her head adamantly.

"I could never be afraid of you, Russell. I know you're a good person down to your core."

Her unshakable belief in my decency steals the breath from my lungs.

Am I, though? The flicker of doubt ignites like a slow burn.

"Aaron's squad was ambushed that day," I finally grit out, powering through the lump in my throat. "I begged to be allowed to join a team to extract them, but my superiors wouldn't authorize it. Like my best friend's life meant nothing to them. None of the lives did."

"They didn't even let you try to save your best friend?" Lyla's voice is soft with dismay.

I shake my head jerkily.

"I get it. They didn't want to risk more lives over a mission that was likely already a lost cause. But what kind of soldier leaves their brothers behind like that? I should have been there with him. I should have..." I trail off, unable to voice the horrible thought aloud.

Lyla's palm connects with my cheek in a sharp slap, the crack of skin on skin loud in the stillness. I recoil, gaping at her incredulously.

"Have you lost your mind?"

"No," she retorts fiercely, eyes blazing. "But you must be out of yours if you're honestly thinking you should have died alongside your friend that day. Would your best friend be happy hearing you say that?"

I grit my teeth, working my jaw against the sting of her words and the lingering sting on my face.

"Aaron would've been pissed as hell to hear me talking like that," I admit roughly. "He was always the upbeat one, the life of every party. And ever since he's been gone, I..."

I swallow hard, the confession like shards of glass in my throat. "I haven't been able to enjoy life the way he would've wanted. I couldn't even go out without getting blind drunk until I could barely walk. That's why I had to escape and come out here."

"So, you just ran away from everything?" Lyla asks, brow furrowed.

I shake my head, "It wasn't like that. I just...needed some time to myself to process everything, you know? Get my head on straight again. But then that time just kept stretching out longer and longer until I got too used to the isolation. Felt like I had nothing tying me back to reality anymore."

Lyla's hand comes up to rest on my shoulder, her touch warm even through the cool lake water.

"But don't you miss any of it? Talking to other people, human interaction and contact?"

I flinch instinctively at her physical gesture, my body tensing. A large part of me knows I should brush her off and re-establish those boundaries. But an even bigger part craves her nearness's solace, the simple comfort of another person's presence surrounding me.

My gaze drops to her parted lips, noticing for the first time just how full and rosy they are. Without meaning to, I imagine how soft they would feel pressed against my own chapped mouth.

I try to rein in the inappropriate direction my thoughts have strayed, but it's quickly becoming a losing battle. Lyla's sun-kissed skin glistens enticingly where it peeks above the waterline, her eyes heavy-lidded and lips ever so slightly parted. She looks radiant...irresistible.

My resolve shatters like a dam breaking. Moving purely on instinct, I lean forward across the short distance separating us, eyes slipping shut in surrender.

If she plans to push me away, so be it, but I must at least chase this intoxicating temptation, just this once.

To my dizzying relief, Lyla doesn't recoil. Instead, her mouth meets mine in a collision that instantly consumes my senses. I drown in the velvet heat of her lips molding to mine, the electrifying sweep of her tongue boldly seeking entry that I eagerly grant.

We cling together desperately in the shallows, trading scorching, open-mouthed kisses that leave me lightheaded and aching for more. But eventually, the need for oxygen overpowers the primal hunger driving us.

Lyla tears her lips away with a ragged gasp, blinking up at me with eyes gone dark and molten.

"What...what was that?" she breathes out shakily.

My chest heaves as I struggle to catch my own breath.

"I don't know," I admit hoarsely. "It just...felt right."

It felt more right than anything has in longer than I can remember.