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The book and the man.”
Seth saw the anger in her face. The disappointment in her eyes. Too much. He turned away. He walked to the laundry bin, stared at its contents. How could he explain it to Kat so she’d grasp why he said no? How could anyone comprehend?
Billie understood. Like Billie, he’d witnessed death a thousand times. They’d spit, whooped and roared at death. Twice they hid from it. But death was a consumptive force. Too much, and the mind slipped into madness. Only a monster had an insatiable appetite for death.
Enough was enough.
The killing had to stop.
Fighting someone else’s battle was over. Fighting for the politicians in Washington was bullshit. Serious bullshit. All the who died fighting the president’s goddamn politically correct war. Seth felt his heart constrict. Rage raced through his body. He had to pull away, or the demons plaguing Billie would drive him mad too.
Rest. That was what he needed. Above all else, mind-numbing rest. A way to end the nightmares. The scream of an AK47 7.62 x 39mm bullet tearing into the dirt, inches from his face. An RPG obliterating the sunlight, deafening his ears. The dead corporal at his feet. The baby he’d never hold. The wife he’d never kiss. All of it. The terrifying black nightmares robbing him of the will to live.