Fighting Redemption (34 page)

Two months later

Eastern Afghanistan

His adrenaline pumping, Ryan left the briefing with determination and narrow-eyed focus. Shit was heating up, back-up was being called, and he was about to be heading right into the thick of it.

Monty clapped him on the back as they moved fast towards their respective bunks. “Let’s suit up and get the fuck out there.”

Exhaling steadily, Ryan gave a short nod. Reaching his bunk, he stripped down with short, sharp movements. Tugging down a fitted white shirt, he tucked his tags underneath. Next, he slid on his green and brown pants. Sweat already lining his brow, he did up his belt and pulled on his shirt, working his way down the buttons and tucking it in. Over that went his standard issue Tiered Body Armour System, and after adjusting it in place, Ryan did a final check of his ammunition and equipment pouches. Satisfied everything was where it was supposed to be, he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled on thick socks and boots.

Knowing he had a few minutes, he stood and opened his locker. A sheaf of papers sat inside. He pulled them out and sat back down, running his fingers over Fin’s handwriting.

He skimmed over each one, the phrases that meant the most catching his eye as he went.

I’m glad you couldn’t keep your hands off me. When I close my eyes at night I feel them running over my bare skin as though you’re still here. I feel your hand resting on my chest at night like you used to do, and I know it’s because you like to feel the beat of my heart beneath your fingers. Did you know that you always sleep deeper that way? Some nights you cry out in your sleep, and it hurts just hearing it, but then your hand will eventually settle over my heart and your breathing evens out.

Ryan flicked to the next page.

I miss you. Each day hurts a little more than the last.

He flicked again.

You’re the strongest person I’ve ever known, but someone smart and brave once told me that it’s always the strongest that fall the hardest. You can trust me, Ryan. Let go. I’ll be here to catch you. I’ll always be here.

Ryan’s hands shook.

I’ve attached an ultrasound image of our baby and a list of names in order of my favourites, but it would be nice to have your input—if you’d like to.

Ryan had emailed her back, telling her the name at the very top of the list was perfect. She’d also attached a photo of herself and he couldn’t stop himself from telling her that
she
was perfect too. And their baby.

Monty had been right. Having it yelled right in his face forced Ryan to finally admit it to himself. He was scared. He’d panicked—his entire chest tight with anxiety at the thought of her choosing him over everything else. How could he live up to that and be worth the sacrifice? It was a risk he’d been too scared to tak
e
. But now?

Ryan ran trembling fingers over the photos and swallowed hard before tucking them carefully into his shirt pocket and doing up the button.

Now?

She was his, and just like Monty said, it was time to man the fuck up and take the damn risk. Picking up his weapons, Ryan wrapped up all the beautiful memories in his mind and tucked them deep inside. He had to focus. There was an entire unit of soldiers out there in trouble, and right now they deserved everything he had to give.

Ryan stepped outside, taking a deep breath of the thick warm air in the fading dusk. He joined his team as they made their way to the waiting Black Hawks. The rotors were already thumping, the engines warming.

Monty slapped him on the back. “Ready?”

“Never been more ready.” He looked sideways at Monty and grinned. Soon—just a few weeks from now—Ryan would be home. He was going to take Fin out under those stars, right in the very spot he told her how much he loved her and ask her to be his forever. “I’m going to ask Fin to marry me.”

Monty returned his grin. “‘Bout fucking time, Kendall.”

His heart lifted as they kicked up their pace into a jog, leaping into the chopper with excitement. Soon they would be in the thick of battle, and their entire team was pumped to get in on the action.

Ryan gripped Nathan’s arm as he leaped up behind him, and when they were all on board, Monty twirled his finger, his eyes hard and serious. “Let’s move out!” he yelled.

“Don’t give up on me, Fin,” Ryan whispered softly in the fading light as the chopper lifted.

Same time

Fremantle, Western Australia

“Ugh,” Fin muttered as she set the glass of fresh vegetable juice back on the breakfast table. She was trialling the recipe her mum had given her and made a mental note to tell her it was disgusting.

Sitting beside her, Rachael began gagging.

Fin’s eyes widened with horror as her own stomach began heaving in sympathy. “Don’t you dare throw that up!”

“You should...” gag “…give that recipe to Ryan. He could…” gag “…use that as some form of torture device on the enemy.”

Grabbing both glasses off the table, Fin stood and walked to the sink, dumping the contents down the drain with relish. “You tell that to Mum,” she said, rinsing them out under the tap. “She keeps foisting all this over-the-top health crap on me, and it’s driving me daft. At least I can be honest and say I tried it, but that’s enough. From now on, I’m going to enjoy these last four weeks of pregnancy by eating whatever the hell I want.” Turning around, Fin tried folding her arms, but her belly was sitting so high, her arms rested somewhere up near her face.

A knock came at the door and Rachael clapped excitedly. “That’ll be the cavalry.”

Fin shook her head, laughing. “You’re more excited about doing up this nursery than
I
am!”

Later that morning, with her dad and Rachael hard at work painting the nursery, Fin sat on the couch, banned from being near any paint fumes. Deciding to check her emails, she found a reply from
Ryan Kendall
sitting in her inbox. The beginnings of a smile formed on her face as she clicked it open.

“Fin, love!” her dad called out. “When’s the furniture being delivered?”

“Next week some time!” she shouted back from the couch, her computer wobbling precariously on her rapidly decreasing lap space.

He walked out of the nursery, paintbrush in hand, his brow creased. “You don’t know what day?”

Exhausted, Fin waved at the pile of receipts her mum had laid out over the dining table after their mammoth shopping expedition. “We went to a few stores,” she admitted. “So I guess they’re delivering on a whole bunch of different days.”

Her eyes returned to the computer.

Fin,

I never saw this for us–creating a family together. Not because I never wanted it, but because it never seemed possible so I put it from my mind.

“Fin,” her dad said sternly as he walked over to the table and eyed the pile of receipts. “That’s not very organised of you.”

“Dad!”

“Don’t take that tone with me, miss.”

“I’m trying to work,” she lied, desperate to get back to her email.

Her dad let out a loud
hmmphf
and disappeared back to his painting.

I can’t believe I’m not there for any of it—that when I come home, I’ll be coming home to a son or daughter. Honestly? I can’t wait. I want to hold both of you in my arms and tell you I love you. Tell you I’m sorry—that I was scared of not being good enough.

Please forgive me.

I don’t want you to think I’m saying this because we’re having a baby. Maybe it might have taken me a bit longer to work it out in my head, but I would have eventually.

I miss you, baby. So much it hurts, but I’ll be home soon.

Please take good care of the both of you for me.

Love,

Ryan.

P.S. I’ve transferred money to your bank account. Please use it for whatever you or the baby needs.

Not good enough for her? That couldn’t be any further from the truth, and her heart felt lighter knowing he finally worked it out. He would be coming home soon and she would be where she wanted to be all along, waiting for him.

“Please come home safe, Ryan,” she whispered softly, trailing her fingers down the photo of the two of them on her computer.

How long ago it seemed now, the both of them smiling at her farewell party. That had been the last night she’d ever spent with Jake, and it couldn’t have been more bittersweet, or more perfect.

Out of curiosity, Fin signed into her internet banking and checked her bank account.

“Holy shit!” she shouted.

The laptop gave up its fight for space and crashed loudly to the floor. Rachael and her dad both came running out, their eyes wild, brushes held aloft as paint flew everywhere.

“Is it the baby?” Rachael burst out, almost breathless with panic.

“Fin?” her dad questioned.

Fin levered herself from the couch and made a grab for the laptop that laid overturned on the ground. “No.” She waved her hand at the computer. “It just fell off my lap, that’s all.”

Rachael sagged visibly with relief. “You’re supposed to be resting. Stop freaking us out! You keep faking your little labour pains to get your own way and it’s sending us all into gibbering lunatics.”

“I didn’t do it deliberately,” Fin pointed out as she huffed about on the floor, trying to bend over with no success. “A little help?” she panted.

Her dad grabbed her arm, none too gently, and assisted her back to the couch. His efforts left a big smear of creamy yellow paint up her forearm. “Awesome. Thanks, Dad,” she muttered as Rachael picked up her computer and set it down on the coffee table.

“Holy shit!” Rachael shouted as her eyes caught Fin’s bank account information spread out on the screen for all to see.

“Would you two ladies stop swearing at the top of your lungs? You’ll send an old man deaf,” her dad muttered.

Ignoring him, Fin waved her hand at the screen. “It’s from Ryan to ... you know ... help out with stuff for the baby.”

Rachael’s eyes took on a manic gleam as her dad squinted at the screen. “Does he think cots automatically come gold-plated and prams need mag wheels?” Those eyes narrowed as they focused on Fin. “Is this guilt money?”

“No! He emailed me.” Fin had no intention of sharing that email with anyone. It was private. It had all the love she felt for him swelling so big and so bright, she couldn’t breathe from it. “It’s going to be okay.” She grinned. “We’re going to be okay.”

Half an hour later

Eastern Afghanistan

The Black Hawk thundered heavily through the sky, three more following on their tail as Monty gave an update.

“We’re heading right into a hotbed of enemy fire,” he shouted. He looked Nathan in the eye and reinforced words they’d heard during their briefing. “You’re up first. Run low and hard for position. Signal when you’re ready for cover fire.”

Ryan ran his mind over the details. A patrol had been scoping out a village of potential enemy fighters, keeping watch and tracking details of possible militant activity. They’d taken images, analysed them, noted details and forwarded the information back to base, but during the operation, a soldier had been forced to initiate contact with the enemy and gunfire had escalated into a full scale fight.

Thanks to the intelligence gathered, the briefing Ryan attended encompassed enough detail on the village for them to be able to plan their approach.

“We enter in the western end of the village,” Monty continued, his voice forceful and commanding, “and make our way towards the northern end. No splitting up unless you’re caught under heavy fire and it’s absolutely necessary. We enter as a team, we leave as a team.”

Short nods were given in response as tension ran thick.

Ryan was calm on the outside—eyes focused, hands steady, body locked tight—but inside his blood was simmering, ready to bubble through his veins the minute they reached their destination.