Ranger's Honor: a Military Romance

CORY
Boston, MA
Funeral of Sergeant Brett Michaels

Physical dread furled in Sergeant Cory Foster’s stomach as he took another step toward the flag-draped coffin. His palms were slick with sweat, and he rubbed them on his military dress uniform. The muted sounds of a hundred people mourning pressed against his chest, and it was an effort to focus on the people standing to the left of the coffin.

Why couldn’t they just be still? Just for a minute. It’s all he needed to pull everything back inside…

He felt Maddy’s hand graze his and he grabbed onto it as he came face to face with Brett’s parents.

“Thank you for coming.” The woman’s voice was flat, as if every word required a monumental effort. Her eyes played over the medals on Cory’s uniform, then fastened on his name. “Foster.” Her eyes jumped from his chest to his face. “Cory! Please. You were there, when my boy…” Her breath shuddered dangerously. “Tell me what happened. Please!”

“Anne.” Her husband—Brett’s father—stood beside her, looking like he was the only thing holding her upright. His voice was low and raw. “You know what happened.”

“No!” she cried. “It wasn’t enough!”

Cory didn’t know how to respond to the grief pouring out of this woman who’d lost her only son.

“I’m so sorry.” His throat was tight with his own grief, his voice threatening to break.

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

Her words hit him like a slap to the face, and he nearly took a step back. He’d asked himself the same thing a thousand times; if he hadn’t been focused on Chase, could he have done something more for Brett?

Chase would be here if he could. Doing this far better than Cory…

“Anne!” Cory heard the shock, the hurt, and the disapproval all in that one word spoken by Brett’s father.

That didn’t make it any easier to respond, but he tried. “He didn’t suffer…”

Anne collapsed into her husband’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

Maddy leaned into the older woman as she murmured words that were far more comforting, no doubt, than his had been. Her dark hair spilled over one cheek, and a sharp need stabbed through his center. He longed to give up control again. To Maddy. Just for a little while...

A vise tightened around his chest, forcing his breath to go shallow. He glanced toward where they’d parked the car.

I have to get away.

He gripped Maddy’s shoulder with more force than he’d intended. “I’ll wait for you in the car.”

He felt Maddy’s eyes on him, but he couldn’t stop his feet from carrying him away from the accusing glances. Away from the palpable grief.

Only to find himself locked out of the car.

He wanted to scream. To scrape his insides out with a primal howl. Instead, he gave the tire nearest him a vicious kick that only served to radiate pain through his ankle. He swore at his foot. He swore at the car. He swore at the mud he’d somehow picked up on his dress shoes.

And shit, he could not catch his breath. What was wrong with him?

He slumped on the hood of the car, one hand pressed to the scar on his side, which seemed to throb with its own energy.

“Hey.” Maddy hoisted herself onto the hood next to him. “You okay?”

He nodded as he studied the mud on his shoes.

Gonna have to clean those when I get home.

“What Anne said, she said out of grief,” she said. “You know that, right?”

“It was a valid question,” he said.

“No.” Her voice had an edge he’d never heard before. “You did everything you could. You all did. Sometimes there just isn’t a way to save them.”

Without warning, the weight on his lungs went from mild to crushing. His body bent forward, his mouth sucking in harsh breaths.

“Cory.” She laid one hand on his shoulder. “I think you’re having an anxiety attack.”

“Don’t diagnose me,” he snapped. “You’re not my doctor.”

She reeled back as if he’d slapped her. He cursed himself as he pressed one hand against his chest. Holy hell, it felt like a heart attack!

He just needed it to stop. All of it. He wanted to apologize to Maddy but he didn’t trust himself to speak. There was too much twisted and rioting inside him, and he couldn’t let her see.

After a few moments, she drew a deep breath. Still, he heard the hurt in her voice when she said, “Let’s go home.”