Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102549 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102549 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
“Yeah, buddy. A bad one.”
“You’ve already told me all of this information, haven’t you?”
“Yep. Numerous times.”
“I’m guessing the sound of a plane is just in my head, then?” It’s like an annoying buzzing in my ear that I want to swat away but can’t. Not only because I can barely move my arms without wanting to throw up but because I’m sure it’s not an insect.
Shanahan stands. “It’s not your imagination.” He waves his arms.
The relief that swamps my body also must take away some of the adrenaline keeping me alive because with relief comes pain.
I’m on my way home, but I have no idea what condition I’ll be in when I get there. At the realization that Kit and Brady won’t even know what happened or where I am—that they aren’t my next of kin—all hope dies.
I have to make it home because there’s no way I’m leaving this world without seeing them one more time.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
kit
I pace my apartment, waiting on a phone call, news, anything. Last night, we were both too worried to get a decent sleep, but thankfully, Brady’s getting some rest now. I’m thankful for him staying. Clinging onto him was the only thing that kept me from losing it. We were maybe both in shock, too numb to do anything but hold on to each other and hope.
But when the sun came up, I couldn’t lie there anymore. I needed to be doing something—even if that something is wearing a path into my bedroom carpet with my bare feet.
A helo crash is survivable, but if the navy can’t even locate them two days later with all the tracking technology they have …
Every minute that goes by with no word frays the last cord of hope I have left.
Brady gasps awake and looks around the room. “Fuuuuck. I dreamed I was being trampled by elephants. Why are your footsteps louder than a marching band?”
I stop pacing. “Sorry.”
As if forgetting for a second why I’m stressed, his face falls when he remembers. “Any word?”
“Not yet.”
I can’t lose Prescott. Granted, we haven’t had much to do with each other since I moved to Virginia, but he’s still always been there. I’ve been trying to save my heart by staying away, but knowing he was still out there didn’t hurt as much as the thought that he’s possibly gone forever.
“What are the chances … I mean … Could he …” Brady can’t finish the question neither of us wants the answer to.
Is there a chance Prescott’s still alive?
I wouldn’t put money on the odds. Last night, while I needed him, Brady was there for me. And now, as reality is mixing with what-ifs, he’s the one who needs me. To reassure him, and maybe even myself.
“There’s no way to know. My contact couldn’t even tell me what took them down. They were supposed to be on a training op.”
“Those things go bad sometimes, don’t they? It’s in the news.”
“Startlingly, it’s in the news less than it actually happens. We run training ops for a reason—so they’re prepared for anything. That means we have to create artificial dangerous situations, but they still have an element of danger, so yeah, things go wrong. Often. Rarely does it result in casualties.”
“So maybe something went really wrong, but they’re all still alive.”
I force a smile, but my lips barely move. “I’m sure you’re right.” I’m sure he’s not, but I can’t bring myself to say it. “Why don’t you get out of bed, and I’ll take you to my favorite breakfast place.”
“I will never say no to food.”
Now, if only I could find a way to muster up my appetite.
It occurs to me, as Brady stabs at his waffles with his fork after barely eating anything, that he might be trying to put on a brave front too.
I raise my hand for the check.
“You’re not eating?” Brady asks.
“Neither are you.”
“I tried.” Brady hangs his head.
“I know.”
“I’m too scared to eat. All I can think is—”
“Me too. Let’s go back to the apartment. I shouldn’t have forced us to come out.”
Brady drinks down the last of his coffee, at least. “Are you going into work today?”
“I want to so I can see if I can find anything out. Are you … do you still plan to stay for the weekend?”
“I don’t want to go home until I know for sure. One way or the other.”
If Prescott’s alive or dead.
I can’t even believe we’re having to think about this. Sure, being in the military, there’s always that risk of never coming home. We’ve talked about it. We’ve thought about it. We’ve even had some close calls. But this is a whole new level. One I’m not used to and never want to get used to.
I pull Brady close when we get outside, wrapping my arm around his shoulders.