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away. But his deeds had been too much for her to bear. Her refusal to see him was the final blow. His mother was the true barometer of Will’s salvation and his worst fears had been confirmed.
    Will had no hope for redemption.
    He considered buying a gun and ending it all. Monsters were too dangerous to be left unchecked. Monsters harmed innocents. Weren’t his actions proof enough of that? He had no business infecting Megan’s family with his darkness. He needed to leave as soon as possible, but where would he go? What to do?
    Only three people had ever truly meant anything to him and he was losing them quickly. His mother turned him away. He loved his sister too much to screw up her family. That only left one person.
    James.
    What would James say? They’d barely spoken since James had left Iraq. Will had buried himself too deep in shit, and he suspected that James had buried himself too deep in guilt.
    “Will?” Megan stood in the open doorway. “What are you doing out here?”
    He rubbed the back of his neck. “I couldn’t sleep.”
    “Come inside before you catch your death from cold. You don’t even have a shirt on. I’ll make you some hot chocolate.”
    He released a half laugh. “Hot chocolate isn’t going to make everything better, Meg. We’re not kids anymore.”
    Taking a step onto the porch, she leaned over and tugged on his arm. “No, but it’ll thaw you out. You’re going to end up with pneumonia. Come on.”
    He stood, only because he worried about her slipping and falling on in the snow. He’d be damned if he let anything happen to her because of him.
    He sat at the kitchen table while she disappeared into the living room, returning with an afghan and draping it around his shoulders. “I take it you don’t sleep much.”
    Resting his forehead in his hand, he laughed. “How did you guess?”
    Pouring milk into a pan, she shook her head. “The dark circles under your eyes were my first clue. You nervous tics are another.” She turned to look at him. “Like the way your leg is twitching now.”
    Will put his hand on his knee, unaware he’d been shaking.
    “That’s your body’s way of trying to cope with lack of sleep.” Sitting in the chair next to him, she took his hand. “You need help, Will.”
    His eyes narrowed. “You mean like a psychiatrist? Become zombied out on drugs? No thanks.”
    “It doesn’t have to be like that. You could see a counselor, someone to talk to about what happened.”
    His heart sped up and his skin crawled again.  It’s my imagination . But he had to force himself to remain in the chair. “I don’t want to talk about what happened. I want to  forget  about it. Leave it six fucking thousand miles away where it belongs.”
    Determination filled her eyes. “That’s not like you. Will. You’re not someone who runs away from his problems.”
    Will pulled his hand from hers, rubbing the back of his neck. “That man no longer exists, Megan. That man is dead.”
    She pursed her lips in a scowl. “I don’t believe it.”
    “Believe whatever you like. Believe whatever makes you feel better, but I prefer to be a realist.”
    Anger flashed in her eyes. “Stop that bullshit right now. It’s me you’re talking to. Sure, something terrible happened, a horrible tragedy. But you have to acknowledge it before you can move one. If you hide from it, you’ll be stuck there.”
    Will’s jaw dropped in disbelief. “Are you have any fucking idea what I’ve done, Megan?  Do you have any idea ?” His voice rose before he remembered that Megan’s sleeping son was above them. Further proof that he needed to leave.
    She placed both hands on his knees. “I know you were on a mission that went bad and people died.”
    “ Kids  died, Megan. Kids.”
    “Will, you didn’t purposely kill those children. That country is at war. Unfortunately, sometimes terrible things happen in a war. It doesn’t mean you should spend the rest of your life beating yourself up