Chapter 37: Collateral Damage

Disclaimer: S. Meyer owns Twilight.

JPOV:

Two days later I was strapped in beside Mac, wreaking havoc on the insurgents. Ambush Alley, Fallujah, Kirkut, and ass and trash runs—same old, same old. It kept me busy though, so I wasn't dwelling on that little brunette of mine. The nights in the following week however, were a different story. I was so lonely, and missed her like crazy.

One night in particular, I dreamed I was back in Hawaii with my sweetheart, and I woke up feeling amorous, if you get my drift. I realized then, that I was hugging my pillow, and looked around at our miserable CHU. Already was asleep in the other bunk. All at once, the realization of my loss hit me, and the tears followed.

Dale woke to my sobbing, and I was embarrassed as all get out, but I just couldn't stop. He trotted over to my bunk. "Scrapper, you okay."

I couldn't talk, my throat was knotted tight. I sat up at the edge of my cot, hanging my head, and covering my face with my hands.

My roommate seated himself beside me. It wasn't hard for him to figure out what the matter was, and he put his arms around me. "Hey, buddy. Go ahead and cry. I know just how you feel."

I finally muttered, "I'm sorry, Dale. I thought I was doin' all right, but I guess I was only fooling myself."

He patted my back. "It's okay. It was bound to catch up with you sooner or later. You know, I broke down a couple of times myself, while we were in training. It's hard leaving the woman you love behind. I'm counting the days until I can see my Pam again."

I looked up at the sympathetic redhead. "How can you stand it, Dale."

"One day at a time. We're that much closer to returning home. That's the only thing that keeps me going."

BPOV:

The plane left the ground, but I could barely make it out, my eyes were so clouded with tears. I caught a taxi at the curb, and headed home. Once there, I went inside and unpacked my things. My waterworks started up again when I pulled out the feathered clip that Jacob put in my hair on our wedding day.

After I finished arranging all my clothes in the dresser and closet, I set our wedding photos on top of the nightstand. It was minus the one that Jacob had taken with him. It was the one where Jacob and I were facing each other, and the photographer kept coaxing us to look at the camera. That was his favorite—mine too, but I didn't have the heart to tell him that he couldn't take it.

I sat on my rocking chair, staring at the little gold band on my left ring finger. Come back to me, Jake. You've got to come back to me. I can't live without you.

Several minutes passed, and I was still sitting there feeling sorry for myself, but what about poor Jacob? He had it far worse, so with renewed determination, I got off my butt, grabbed my car keys and purse, and went to pick up Michel.

When I walked through the babysitter's door, Michel squealed, "Mommy, mommy!" His tiny legs pumped wildly as he ran across the floor and jumped into my outstretched arms. My heart swelled at seeing him, and I hugged him tight and kissed his little face off.

I had dinner all done and on the table by the time Mom and Dad arrived. It was quite a chore since Michel kept holding onto me. I guess he was scared I was going to leave him again.

That evening, Mom and Dad oohed and ahhed over the professional photos.

My mother sat with the photos on her lap. Her response was surprisingly positive. My dad must've talked to her. "My goodness, Bella, these are beautiful. That Jacob is some handsome devil too. Doesn't he ever take a bad picture?"

"Not on that day. His grin was so bright. It could light up all of Kauai. By the way, one day the electricity was out over the whole island. Can you believe that?"

My father leaned over the back of the couch where Mom was sitting. "That's too bad. What did you guys do all day?"

I looked down, biting on my bottom lip. "Um ... that's kind of censored, Dad."

Mom laughed, and tilted her head back to glance at my father.

His head jerked up, when he realized my meaning, his face a mask of red. "Oh."

With an eye roll, Mom snorted, "Don't be such a prude, Charlie. It's okay, they're married."

"I know that," he retorted. "It's just ... oh, never mind." He walked off to read the newspaper, clearly embarrassed.

Soon it was time to put Michel to bed, only this night, I decided to get ready myself, and let my son fall asleep cuddled next to me. When I was sure he was out completely, I lay him in his crib, kissing his cheek softly. Before I got into bed, I went down on my knees and prayed with all my might to keep my Jacob safe.

School started the next day, so it was back to books, working, taking care of Michel, and worrying about my soldier boy, so far away, and all alone in Iraq.

JPOV:

Things were back to normal—if havin' people shooting at you is ever normal. Anyway, I was in Falujah to see Nadeedah, and if the scarf I'd ordered from her was done. I spotted her carrying her basket out of that shop on the corner. She dropped the container on the ground. "Lieutenant Jacob," she shouted, waving frantically.

I sauntered toward her. "Hey, DeeDee, how's business?"

Nodding, she smiled, and said, "Business much good. But I miss you. I think you leave DeeDee here and go back home." She bent down to her basket and handed me a beautifully embroidered scarf on sheer black fabric.

"Damn, girl. This is some fine work." I gave her a high five. "But, nah, I couldn't leave my best girl without saying goodbye. Besides, I thought maybe I might send for you when I get back there."

I thought her eyes were gonna pop out of her head. "Oh ... Lieutenant Jacob, I love you."

"I love you too, DeeDee."

"You bring me to America. You marry DeeDee. I be a good wife, not spend money, cook for you, wash clothes for you."

I shook my head. "Whoa ... whoa. Uh, no, sweetie, you have the wrong idea."

Nadeedah frowned, her head canted. "Why? You not married. You love DeeDee. You say so."

"I can't marry you. In the first place, you're still a child. You need to grow and mature into a woman. I thought maybe you could marry one of the other guys in La Push, when you get a little older."

Her voice took on a whiny tone. "No, DeeDee never marry other man. DeeDee only love Lieutenant Jacob."

I was desperate for her to grasp my meaning. "I do love you, DeeDee, but my love for you is different. I love you like a little sister. Are you gettin' what I'm tellin' you? Do you understand?"

"I not too young! You marry me ... please. You not be sorry. I take care of you."

She came closer, and snaked her arms around my neck. On tiptoe, she pressed her lips to mine. Gently, I pushed her away. "No, honey. This is not right."

Raising my hand, I showed her my ring. "DeeDee ... I got married while I was gone on furlough. I already have a wife. I'm sorry."

Backing up, her face crumpled, her eyes moist. She turned and ran, tripping over her basket, shrieking, "No ... no!"

I stood, dumbfounded. I looked down at the scarves, all still neatly bundled in the basket sitting there. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw two young Iraqi men giving me the stink eye, as Kapono would say. I guess in their minds, I deserved it.

I picked up the woven container, bringing it with me into the shop and asked the storekeeper to safeguard it for Nadeedah. The lady nodded like she understood. I gestured to her that I needed a pen and paper. I quickly scrawled a note of apology to her:

Dear Nadeedah,

I'm sorry I hurt you. I never meant for that to happen. I hope you find someone else to love, like you love me. Please stay as sweet as you are. There is someone out there, just waiting for you. In the meantime, can we remain as friends? I would still like to bring you to America after my tour if you want to go.

I know you feel like your heart is broken now, but it will heal, I promise you. Please forgive me.

Your friend,

Jacob

I walked on to meet with the other guys for lunch, but I felt like such a heel. Did I lead her on? For Pete's sake, she was just a little girl yet.

The Three Moosketeers plus one, sauntered down the streets of Fallujah on the way back to our jeep. I wanted to go by that street corner to see if Nadeedah had gone back and seen my note. There were Iraqi police parked in front of the shop. I saw a familiar guy walking toward me. It was the marine we sprung from the POW compound months ago—John, I think his name was.

"Well, isn't this a coincidence? It's Jacob Black, right?"

"Yeah, what's goin' on?"

"I'm glad I found you. I believe this is yours."

He handed me my silver wings.

I started to feel uneasy. "Where did you get this?"

"There was a scuffle going on behind the shop, and I heard a girl screaming. I went to investigate, and saw two men with her. They took off when they saw me, but it was too late. They'd already done their worst. The girl told me to find you and give it to you."

"What? Why? Is she still there? I've gotta see her."

John grabbed me, holding me back. "Hold on, soldier, it's not a pretty sight."

I tore away from him, and he and my buddies trailed after me. There on the ground, behind the shop, lay my little friend, beaten and bleeding. Her throat had been slashed. I gazed at her eyes, now glassy with a silvery hue, her pupils wide open and lifeless. I knelt down, reached for her hand, and sighed in pain as I saw my picture clutched within it. My note lay beside her in the dirt, spattered with her blood.

With my voice just above a whisper, I wondered out loud, "She was just a little girl. Who would do such a thing?"

John crouched next to me. "I speak some Iraqi, so I asked the shopkeeper the same question. She said the girl's brothers saw her kiss you, and had seen her talking to you on several occasions before that. They felt she was a traitor to her people, selling secrets to the enemy. And to save the family's honor, it was up to them to punish her."

"So my helping her, did nothing but cause her death? I ... I ... can't understand this. What is wrong with these people? God ... I hate this place—I hate it!"

Embry in his quiet manner, put his hand on my shoulder. "This isn't our way, Jake. We're not in La Push. This is their country. Even though we don't agree, we have to accept it, and go on with our own lives.

"Quil, Esau and I will go get the jeep. That'll give you some time to stay with her. The police look like they're anxious to remove her body too. I'll be back in five minutes."

John went over to talk to the police. They'd been milling about, glancing at me every now and then, but I didn't care. Where were they when she needed their help? The freakin' vultures!

Before I got up off my knees, I took my silver wings out of my pocket and re-pinned it on her chador. I kissed her cheek just as Embry came round the corner to get me. "Rest in peace, Nadeedah. See you soon."

The whole way back to Warhorse, one thought swam round and round in my brain in a continual loop. She was just a little girl. Why did she havta die? She was just a little girl ...

Word got around fast that the girl who saved my life was killed by her own brothers. I was still reeling from the fact, when the next day at chow, Bull sat across from us, and heard the story repeated. With his mouth stuffed with food, the swine commented, "Well, ya know, there's always going to be some collateral damage. Better her than us."

Through gritted teeth, I yelled, "She was an innocent girl, a human being—and now she's dead."

He looked at me straight on, and deadpanned, "Like I said, collateral damage!"

That did it! I sailed over the table, knocking dishes, and utensils aside. Drinks were spilled, and food splattered everywhere. I grabbed him by the collar, knocking him backward outta his chair. It took four guys to haul me off of him. I think I would've killed him if the other guys hadn't been there to stop me.

She wouldn't ever be collateral damage—not to me anyway. She was Nadeedah Yousif, the young heroine who saved this soldier's skin, and I would never forget that as long as I lived.