Requiem for a Soldier (Requiem #1)

Chapter 11: Morning

April 10

Tayja

I open my eyes the next morning to find my pillow wet with tears. I dreamed of Johnston's final moments as he died protecting me. For some reason, we were back in my living room, where this whole nightmare started in the first place. He was trying to defend me from my family's murderers. I was back in my hiding place where I'd been when my whole family died. Just like with my family, all I could do was watch as yet another important person in my life died in front of me. I didn't know Johnston for very long, but he'd been like a surrogate father to me after I'd lost my own.

I remember the Glock Ryan gave me yesterday. It reminded me of the weapon I'd seen Johnston carry and use. The sight of the pistol reminded me of him and of feeling safe, that there was someone always looking out for me. My hand itches to hold it again.

I hear the water in the bathroom turn on. Ryan must be taking a shower. Ryan Burke. The son of the famous Burke family. I'm rooming with a celebrity. Not that I care that much. I've never been a fan of reality TV and the complete idolization of a flawed person has always baffled me slightly, but I can't deny that it's an odd feeling to realize you're close to someone extremely famous.

I try in vain again to remember his picture. All I can conjure up in my head is the image of an obscured face with crystal blue eyes, but even that detail is probably just because I've seen his eye. I have absolutely no recollection of what he looks like.

His brother, on the other hand, I can remember with stunning clarity. The man makes an impression. He's a total player. Some women find that attractive, I guess, but his overall demeanor oozes "jerk." However, even I can't deny that he is one very attractive man. His sister - a redhead, who I finally remember now - is fairly gorgeous as well. I'm still not certain who the blonde is, but by Ryan's knee jerk reaction, I'm inclined to think she's an ex or something.

I don't remember anything about the youngest Burke son having a girlfriend, but the picturesquely tragic blonde is permanently associated in my mind with Ryan's funeral. I think perhaps I saw her image along with the announcements of Ryan's death. I remember her because something about her demeanor struck me as odd. She looked gorgeous, in a skinny black dress that showed off her figure to great advantage. Her expression looked sad, distraught, and desolate, but her face still looked perfect - not a hint of redness or the puffy eyes that result from crying. Either the woman was a magical goddess incapable of ugly-crying or she'd practiced her sad expression for hours until she could appear appropriately grieved without sacrificing her appearance.

I shake my head. I could just be crazy. But if my suspicions about her are right, I think Ryan dodged a huge bullet where she's concerned. The three phone calls made to another phone number in Ryan's call history jump out in my mind. Were those phone calls made to her? It kinda makes sense, when I think about it. Who else would he call, if his family are the only people who know he's alive, and he dislikes them so much? His ex must know he's alive as well. If she knows he's alive, she also must know what happened to him. I remember how upset Ryan became when I mentioned her yesterday. Did she dump him because of his injuries?

I'm speculating wildly and I know it. It's not my place to make conjectures about his personal life. I never should have gone through his phone either. I shake my head. No, Tayja.

The water in the bathroom stops running. I jump up out of bed and run lightly over to the closet. I retrieve my new robe, pull it on, and tie it around me before waiting by the bedroom door for a few minutes. As soon as I hear the bathroom door open, I fling open the bedroom door and stick my head out.

"When can we go shooting?"

Ryan's crystal blue eye narrows at me from the doorway of the bathroom. He sighs, seeming impatient with my enthusiasm.