Friday Feature & Giveaway: The Salvation Duet by Evelyn Montgomery

Justin

Silence. Silence is all I know, and yet I find comfort in it. One thing the Navy Seals taught me was the damn 40% rule, and hell if it isn’t true. Possibly even the only damn thing that has kept me sane since the shit I went through overseas.

When your mind is telling you that you are done, you’re actually only 40% done.

Hell if that isn’t the damn truth.

Nearing a bend in the road, I come to a stop when I hear crying coming from the house in front of me. I train my ear to listen to the sound. It’s a baby’s cry. No big deal. But then I hear another yell. A woman. A little quiet at first, but the damn words her beautiful voice shouts ring loud and clear the second time, calling to a place deep inside me I never knew existed.

“Stop it!”

My feet have a mind of their own as I jump the little fence separating me from the front door of the tiny house and quickly take the stairs two at a time as I climb up the front steps. Powered by a force unknown to me, I don’t bother to knock as I plow against the door and it swings wide open. I look to my right and see nothing. A glance to my left and I lock eyes with a woman who is fallen against the wall, clutching her child tight.

In two short strides I am at her side. She flinches when I come near and tries to back away as I clutch her shoulders in my hands.

“Ma’am, are you alright?” But she doesn’t say a word. She stares at me with those wide, blue, breathtaking eyes, and I swear my heart skips a fucking beat.

It has to be the adrenaline.

I hear a cry behind me and turn to see a little boy for the first time. He looks scared as shit, and it pulls to another place deep inside me, reminding me of my youth and all the crap I tried to escape in the Navy.

“Don’t worry,” I say, turning and facing his way. “I am not going to hurt you.” His crying slows a little and I thank God for that, because between his crying, and the tiny little baby in his mother’s arms, I don’t think I could take much more. Turning back to the woman, I notice fear creeping across her face as a shiver breaks out across her skin. Standing, I look into the bedroom just beyond where she is sitting and wonder where the fucker is at that she has to be afraid of.

“Where is he?” I demand harshly on instinct. Looking back down at her, her eyes look perplexed and it completely throws me off, but I continue anyway. I make my way into the bedroom and take a good look around. Glancing in the bathroom and closet, I come back to the living room just as the woman rises to standing. She stares at me in confusion before putting a pacifier back in her daughter’s mouth and finally succeeding in making the crying stop. Her son runs to her side and I watch as he sniffles into her leg.

I take long strides across the room to the other side of the house and glance in the only other room this tiny shack has to offer. Boy’s toys are thrown everywhere, and I have to sidestep my way through to make sure no one is hiding in the kid’s closet.

Nothing.

Coming back out to the living room, I take a look in the small kitchen and finally meet the eyes of the woman in the corner when I am confident there is no one around. She questions me with those damn eyes that pull to a place inside me I’d rather forget, the place her voice called to, but the fear that once filled them is gone. With her baby clutched to her chest and her son at her side, her posture finally softens.

Then I see it.

My eyes dart to the mantel on the fireplace. The fucking symbol I’ve been running from stares me back in my damn face and pierces my heart like it’s the first fucking time. The folded flag. The dog tags. The picture in a frame next to an urn. My eyes dart back to hers, and it doesn’t escape me that she saw where I looked. She straightens her spine, as only a soldier’s wife would, and stands tall.

I nod my head before standing straight. With tears in my eyes, and confident that she is in no danger, I salute her. I watch as she fights back tears before giving me a sad nod. I look to the floor and swallow over a lump in my throat, unable to meet her eyes.

“Thank you for your service,” I whisper. Turning, I leave quickly and slam the door behind me. I know all too well the demons she faces, and hell if I can fight hers and mine at the same time.