Ranger's Honor: a Military Romance (Book 3 of Army Ranger series)

Dread coiled in Sergeant Cory Foster’s gut as he took another step toward the flag-draped coffin. The air inside the chapel felt too warm, too thick—like it had weight—and every breath scraped on the way in. His palms were slick, dampening the crisp fabric of his dress uniform as he smoothed them down his thighs.

The muted murmur of a hundred grieving voices pressed in from all sides—soft sobs, whispered condolences, the rustle of fabric. It crowded his ears and his chest until it felt like he was moving underwater.

Why couldn’t they just be still? Just for a minute. One minute for him to lock it all down again…

Maddy’s fingers brushed his hand. He caught hold of them, gripping tighter than he meant to, anchoring himself as he stepped into the hollow space in front of Brett’s parents.

“Thank you for coming,” his mother said.

The words were flat and brittle—like she might shatter if she tried to say anything more. Her gaze drifted over the medals on his jacket, then snagged on his nameplate.

“Foster.” Her eyes snapped up, locking onto his. “Cory Foster. Please—you were there, when my boy…” Her lips trembled, her chest stuttering with the effort to breathe. “Tell me what happened. Please.”

“Anne.” Brett’s father stood rigid at her side, one arm braced around her as if he were the only thing keeping her upright. His voice was low, scraped raw. “You know what happened.”

“No!” The word tore out of her. “It wasn’t enough!”

The grief pouring out of her hit Cory like a physical force, hot and suffocating. He had no idea where to put it. No idea how to carry even a fraction of it.

“I’m so sorry.” His throat tightened until the words barely made it out, frayed and unsteady.

“Wasn’t there anything else you could have done?” she cried.

The question cracked across him like a slap. His vision flickered. A thousand moments surged up—every decision, every second he’d replayed in the dark. If he hadn’t been focused on Chase… if he’d moved faster… seen more…

“Anne!” Shock, hurt, and warning collided in her husband’s voice.

Cory dragged in a breath that didn’t go deep enough. Didn’t help.

“He didn’t suffer…” The words felt thin. Useless.

Chase would know what to say. He’d make this better.

Anne folded into her husband’s arms, her sobs breaking loose, raw and jagged.

Maddy leaned into the older woman, her voice soothing, offering comfort Cory couldn’t reach for.

A sharp ache speared through his gut. He wanted—God, he wanted—to let go. To hand it all over to her again, like he had in the hotel. Just for a few minutes. Just long enough to breathe.

Something inside him cinched tight. His chest constricted, a vise clamping down until his breaths turned shallow. The room tilted, sound warping at the edges.

He glanced toward the parking lot.

Get. Out.

His hand landed on Maddy’s shoulder, fingers gripping a little too hard. “I’ll wait for you in the car.”

He didn’t wait for her answer. Couldn’t. Her gaze burned into him as he turned, but he kept moving—away from the coffin, from the grief, from the stares that knew where he’d been when Brett died.

Cool air hit his face when he stepped outside, but it wasn’t enough.

He reached the car. Grabbed the handle.

It was locked—and he didn’t have the key.

A shout clawed up his throat, raw and feral, but he swallowed it down hard enough to taste copper.

Instead, he drove his foot into the nearest tire.

Pain shot up his leg.

“Damn it.” The word came out strangled. He scrubbed at his face. “Stupid.”

His lungs wouldn’t fill. No matter how hard he pulled, the air stopped halfway, caught behind the pressure crushing his ribs.

What was wrong with him?