Mark winced. Dani’s words cut deep. Not that he didn’t deserve them. “It’s not you—”
“Please, don’t give me that ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ line,” she said, palming her hands.
“But it’s true. You’re an amazing woman, and you deserve someone so much better than me.”
“What’s so terrible about you? I don’t get it.”
He rubbed his forehead. “I can’t let another Jolie happen.”
“What are you talking about. Who’s Jolie?”
“Never mind.” He took his hand back. “I’m sorry. We just can’t get involved.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Where’s the man who told me God gave him peace? I believed you. When we were running from the shooter, I even kept saying that verse in Psalms over and over—‘Whenever I’m afraid, I’ll trust in you.’ And where is it in the Bible, anyway?”
He looked startled. “Psalm 56.”
“Oh. Why do you say God gives you peace if it isn’t true?”
He turned away from her and closed his eyes. Boy, he’d made a mess of things. “I told you I was a work in progress.”
“That’s a cop-out and you know it.”
Mark stared down at his hands. He had to make her understand how what he’d been through changed him. That sometimes he could claim those verses and peace flooded his soul. And other times, the darkness had such a hold on him, he froze.
He raised his head and locked gazes with Dani. Why couldn’t things be different? It was simple. Because she was everything that was good and beautiful, and he wasn’t.
But he owed it to her to at least try and explain. Mark took a deep breath and released it.
“It takes a certain type of person to be a sniper,” he said softly. “To look through a rifle scope at someone and not see that person as a human being but as a target. An enemy.”
He pulled his bottom lip through his teeth. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m proud of my skill with a rifle. I kept my squadron safe against enemies who intended to kill as many Americans as they could.” His shoulders slumped. “Until I didn’t.”
Could he tell her what happened with Jolie? Maybe if he did, it would help her see he wasn’t what she needed. “We had intel a bomber who’d blown up a barrack was hiding out in this village. There were two squads and they’d spread out, preparing to make an assault on the house where the bomber was located.
“I was providing overwatch. Five or six soldiers had taken position in an empty building across from the house when this kid, couldn’t have been more than ten or eleven, came running toward the building with a grenade . . .”
She squeezed his hand. “Don’t relive it.”
He gave her a sad smile and pulled his hand away. “You won’t understand unless I tell you. I couldn’t kill the kid. He threw the grenade, and it landed right next to Jolie. It went off before she could move. I couldn’t save the woman I loved.”
Dani reached over and gently covered his hand again. This time he didn’t pull away and allowed the warmth to travel all the way to his heart.
“The choice you had to make was a horrible choice to have to make,” Dani said softly.
“It was war.” He blew out a deep breath. “When I first came home, I didn’t want to sleep because of the nightmares every time I closed my eyes. They’re down to only once a week for the most part now.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Me too.”
“Have you—”
“I’ve tried everything—drugs, alcohol, therapy . . . It was God and Gem and dogs like her that have gotten me as far as I am. Which, unfortunately, isn’t very far.”
At the sound of her name, Gem stood and nuzzled Mark’s hand. “Good girl.” He looked up. “I don’t think I could have made it without the dogs.”
“What do you mean?”
“Working with them touched something inside me. Then I returned to Russell County, and Sheriff Stone hired me as a deputy and gave me the freedom to train first Gem, then several other dogs that have gone to small police forces around the country.”
Dani leaned toward him. “You’re a good man, Mark Lassiter. Don’t let the darkness rule you.”
He held her gaze. “You just don’t realize how much darkness is there.”
She shook her head. “What you don’t realize is how much light is there.”