Falling for my boyfriend's Navy brother novel Chapter 200

railing for my boyfriend’s Navy brother

Chapter 200: Asher

The door shuts behind us with a soft click, and I don’t move.

Night’s letter is folded in half in my back pocket – sharp and stiff like it wants to dig into my spine. Roostes handed it to me and list said, ” doare man hold that anymore.”

So I do. I hold it.

Rooster walks a few paces down the hall before slamming his hand against the wall. The sound cracks through the silence like that. He dowN’T SAY anything at first, just breathes hard, knuckles tight against the plaster.

I lean against the opposite wall and tilt my head back. Let it thud. Close my eyes.

1

So many emotions simmer beneath the surface, all clawing for space guilt, grief, shame, helplessness. I’ve seen men die before. In the Seld, on the first. in goddamn desert heat with their eyes open and Jungs empty.

1

I’ve seen more die after the fighting was over drinking themselves to death, taking a pistol into the shower, swerving into trees. Men who walked off the battlefield only to collapse somewhere no one could see.

But this? This hits differently.

Because it was Night.

And Night didn’t even bleed that day.

He made it out. Like me. Like Rooster. Like Smoke.

We cheated death together. Ran from fire. Dragged each other through hell. Thirteen of us went in. Four of us crawled back.

That day didn’t just take nine of ours.

It took dozens on both sides.

Explosions don’t check for uniforms.

And we carried that weight. Every day. Every hour.

But the only thing that made it survivable… was knowing that some of us made it. That we could carry the memory forward, speak names into silence, refuse to let it all be for nothing.

Now one more is gone.

And he chose to leave.

I press a hand to my face.

I could’ve called more. I could’ve checked in. I could’ve made the drive to his place and knocked on the door, forced him to talk to me. I could’ve done something.

But I didn’t.

Across from me, Rooster lets out a choked sound/ crumples to a crouch, hands over his face.

not quite a word, not quite a scream

and kicks the baseboard hard enough to crack it. Then he

He’s shaking.

I step over, drop beside him, and pull him into a rough hug. We hold it. Neither of us says anything.

1/4

Chapter 200: Asher

His voice bivaks when he finally mutters, “I can’t do that again.”

“I know.”

“I hate this.”

“I know.”

He wipes his eyes with the heel of his hand, then stands abruptly. “Ramsey said the funeral’s next week”

I nod. “You going?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

We linger in that silence again – heavier now. Like fog that knows it’s staying for a while.

Then I step forward and hug him one last time. A short one, this time – just a slap on the back and a nod

“Keep in touch.”

“You too, Tank.”

He disappears around the corner, and I finally breathe again.

But not for long.

Because then I hear it – a voice I do recognize.

“Mac,” Boomer says slowly, voice low and trembling. “I’m telling you

–

you don’t want to do this.”

My spine straightens.

No.

No, no, no.

I move. Fast. Footsteps tight and silent on the floor. I turn the hallway corner – and my heart nearly detonates.

Boomer is on his feet, one arm angled behind him, his hand locked with Penny’s. He’s standing like a wall in front of her, shielding her from two men i never could stand.

Mac and Josh.

Two assholes who mistake rank for power and silence for permission.

Mac is grinning. Josh is lounging against the vending machine like he’s entitled to everything in this room.

My jaw clenches at the sight of Boomer holding her hand. At the way she’s gripping the back of his shirt, trying not to shake. But the heat in my veins isn’t

for them.

It’s for Mac, stepping too close to something that isn’t his.

I don’t give them the chance to say another word.

“She’s with me.”

Three words. No louder than a whisper.

But Mac flinches like I shouted it in his ear.

2/4

He turns. His smirk falters

Boomer exhales like 1 just pulled the pin out of something explosive and threw it far away

Josh takes one look at my fare pod decide to pretend the vending machine seeds his full attention.

*You want to try that again?” 1 stk, voice flat.

“Nah,” Mac mutters. “We’re good.”

They leave like ghosts, slipping down the hall without another glance back.

Good

Because if they hadn’t?

I would’ve made damn sure they regretted it.

I exhale and finally let myself look at her.

Penny,

Pressed against Boomer’s back, eyes wide, her hair a golden mess across her shoulder, her lips parted like she was just about to cry out. The looks up at me like she doesn’t know whether to cry or run or run to me.

And suddenly, nothing else matters.

Not this awful place.

Not the mission.

Not the blood or guilt or ghosts still whispering in my ears.

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