The Final Line by Kendall McKenna Page B

me on set and wait for me in my trailer so you can cater to my every, egomaniacal whim.”
    Corey laughed, a nearly forgotten sense of joy welling up inside of him. “I’ll retire from the Corps and become your personal bodyguard.”
    The now-familiar notes of music began again. Corey thought he could actually make out the structure of a song.
    “Now that is a spectacular plan,” Sean said with a laugh.
    Corey lapsed into silence as he lay listening to Sean’s fingers move expertly over the strings. It occurred to him that Sean might have been writing this song as they talked. He’d have to ask.
    “Are you still with me?” Sean’s voice was like a caress.
    Corey gasped, realizing he’d lost time. “I think I might have drifted off for a minute.”
    “Good.” Sean’s voice was quiet, but in the deep of the night, it felt like he was right there with Corey. “That’s what I wanted. Think you can sleep through the night now?”
    Corey burrowed deeper into his rack, tucking the covers around his shoulders. He had his cell on his pillow and his ear resting on it. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, his eyelids too heavy to stay open. “Yeah, I think I can,” he muttered.
    “Good. Call me again tomorrow if you need to.” There was a long pause. “Hang up your phone, Corey.”
    “’Kay. Thanks,” he snuffled against his pillow. “G’night.”
    “Good night.”
    Corey managed to end the call and slide his phone to the bed beside him. The next thing he knew, his bedside alarm clock was jolting him awake.

CHAPTER SIX
    Corey stepped into the BRC offices early Monday morning, feeling more rested and refreshed than he had in longer than he could remember. They had classroom sessions this week and he was going to take advantage of the schedule and get himself to the doctor.
    “Good morning, Master Sergeant,” he greeted.
    Whitfield looked up and his expression darkened when he saw Corey. “Staff Sergeant Yarwood, you were supposed to be my easy Marine,” he said.
    Corey’s stomach plummeted. “Master Sergeant?”
    Picking up several stacks of papers, Whitfield began to read, “Today at fifteen hundred hours, you’re to report and be interviewed in conjunction with a DOD investigation into the events surrounding an incident during your last deployment.” Whitfield tossed aside one of the sheaves of papers. “The District Attorney needs to interview you regarding statements made last night by Sergeant Michael Nygaard.” Another group of papers fell to the desk. “The defense attorney for Sergeant Michael Nygaard is demanding an interview as well.”
    Corey drew himself to attention and stared at a spot on the wall just beyond Master Sergeant Whitfield. His blood rushed in his ears at the realization that his life was spiraling out of his control. Christ. When had Corey ever really had control?
    “At ease, Staff Sergeant,” Whitfield said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “All indications are that you haven’t done a damn thing wrong.”
    Corey was weak with relief as he stood at ease. “I have done nothing to shame myself or the Corps, Master Sergeant,” Corey replied.
    Whitfield picked up the summons for Kellan’s investigation. He shook his head slowly. “What the fuck happened in Ghazni, Yarwood?”
    “Beg your pardon?” Corey swallowed hard, hoping the question was rhetorical.
    “Everything seems to stem from whatever it was that happened in Ghazni,” Whitfield said. “Whatever it is that’s being covered up has to do with what Nygaard allegedly did the other night. Now he wants to claim that what happened there was so traumatic he wasn’t responsible for his own actions.”
    “Honestly, Master Sergeant, I don’t know what happened in Ghazni.” Corey sighed heavily. “At least I don’t know what it is they’re covering up. I don’t even know who’s doing the covering up.”
    “Reynolds sure has his work cut out for him,” Whitfield muttered. “How did you get