In the Midnight Hour by Deborah Cooke

Author:Deborah Cooke
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781988479255
Publisher: Deborah A. Cooke

Chapter Eight

Damon fell asleep.

He never fell asleep anywhere except in his own bed with the door locked and his routines completed. He was never lax about discipline and he never napped in other locations.

But he fell asleep in Haley’s bed. He was aware of the cat watching him, sitting on the end of the kitchen counter with his tail lashing. Damon thought he’d just close his eyes for a moment, just to catch his breath after another amazing orgasm.

And then he was back in Afghanistan, in that dusty village.

He was watching the grenade roll toward them in slow motion, knowing the kid had compromised them, knowing that his adherence to the rules was going to cost them big. It seemed he had a thousand years to realize all the repercussions of this small projectile, yet he moved so slowly. His body wouldn’t respond. He couldn’t get himself between Foster and the grenade, even though he struggled to throw himself forward.

And the sound. The sound filled his ears to bursting. The sound was louder than anything he’d ever heard before, ripping through him, destroying, annihilating, shredding...until Buchanan moaned.

Foster didn’t move again.

Damon awakened with a jolt, sitting up in the bed and wondering where the hell he was. He was panting and there was sweat trickling down his back, panic making his heart race. He wanted to run, to hide, to get the hell out.

He was on his feet, grabbing his jeans by the time Haley awakened and sat up.

“I’ve got to go,” he said, hearing the terror in his voice. He could have hurt her. He could have lashed out, unaware of what he was doing. He’d breached his own protocol and she could have paid the price.

He had to go home, where it was safe.

Where the world was safe from him.

He tugged on his clothes, well aware that Haley was watching him without getting out of bed. She probably was horrified. She probably thought there was something wrong with him.

There was.

“You didn’t just serve,” she said with that quiet conviction he found so unnerving. “You have PTSD.”

And just like that, the secret Damon struggled to hide was out in the open. He felt exposed and vulnerable, which didn’t exactly help in his current situation.

He had to get out.

Immediately.

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