Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 105825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
I turned away from her for a moment, breathing hard, glaring at the ground. Then I took a deep breath and faced her. “I never told anyone what happened to my family. Not the whole thing. Not even Danny. It hurt too much.” I looked her right in the eye. “But I’ve got to. I gotta get it out of me because it’s stopping me being with you. And I love you.”
She pressed her lips together tight, eyes shining. “I love you, too,” she whispered.
I bowed my head…and told her.
51
JD
Four Years Ago
I was sunbathing.
We were in Venezuela, on a rock-strewn plateau halfway up a mountain. The mission—reconnaissance for the CIA—was done, no one got hurt, and we’d reached our extraction point an hour early. I had two men keeping watch but that was just a precaution: we’d slipped in and out without the bad guys ever knowing we were there. Most importantly, I was bringing all my men home safe. That was reason to celebrate and I was celebrating by stretching out on a big, smooth rock with my shirt off, basking in the sun like a lizard. There was only one more thing I needed to make things perfect. “Pass me the sat phone,” I said to Danny.
He gave me an indulgent smile and passed it over, and I dialed. Then I closed my eyes and lay there, listening. There was a long series of clicks and pauses, a reminder of how far from home I was. Then—
“Hello?” Jillian’s voice was excited, like she was hoping it was me.
My chest lifted and I knew I must be grinning like an idiot. Suddenly, I wasn’t in Venezuela: I was right there, in the kitchen, putting my arms around her from behind, kissing the side of her throat in that way that made her giggle and squirm. “Hey, gorgeous. It’s me. Wanted to let you know I’m on my way home. Should be there tomorrow.”
I heard her take a slow breath in, “That’s good,” she said, and it was like she was releasing all the worry she’d been bottling up. I squeezed the satphone, overcome with emotion for a moment. I hated being away, hated worrying her. But at the same time, hearing her voice made all the time in the jungle worthwhile. It reminded me of what we were protecting.
“Is Max around?” I asked.
“Hold up.” She took the phone away from her mouth. “Max!” She came back on. “I got him the spaceship that shoots the foam darts but you’ve gotta help me wrap it, okay? It’s the most awkward thing in the world.”
“Good work, and deal,” I told her firmly.
Feet hammering on the stairs. Then an excited, “Dad?!”
I still remembered the first time Max made a noise that kinda sounded like Dada. That primal sense of pride: I did that. I helped make him. That stomach-dropping moment of fear as the responsibility sunk in: he was mine to raise right or screw up. And that tidal wave of raw, blind love. It still got me every time and I hadn’t heard him say it in a week so it hit me extra hard. “Hey pal,” I managed around the lump in my throat. “I’ll be back for your birthday.”
“Really?!”
I was so glad I didn’t have to disappoint him. And I felt so bad that I nearly had. “Yeah.”
“Can we have a water fight?”
I grinned. We’d had an epic water fight the week before: squirt guns, water balloons and even a few buckets of water. Jillian had ventured into the yard to call us for dinner and had gotten hit by a stray water balloon. She took the nuclear option and turned the garden hose on both of us, but we joined forces and unloaded all the balloons we had left on her. By the time we were done, all three of us looked like we’d gone swimming, and Jillian had to excuse herself because her summer dress had turned damn near transparent. As soon as I’d gotten Max into some dry clothes, I went and found her in the bedroom, her body still gleaming wetly, and…well, dinner wound up being pretty late. “Yeah,” I told Max. “We can absolutely have a water fight.”
He put Jillian back on. I could hear a whistling in the background. “Is that the wind?” I asked.
“Yup. It’s really picking up out there. Don’t worry, I’ve got everything battened down good and tight.”
I could hear rain lashing the windows, too. It was gloriously hot where I was and the disconnect was jarring. That feeling that I was right there in the kitchen with them slipped away. “I’ll be home tomorrow,” I said, as much for me as for her. “Maybe late, but tomorrow.”
“Well, I’ll be here waiting,” she said softly. “With a plate of sandwiches in the refrigerator, a bottle of red on the table and me in that green silky robe and the black underwear with the little gold chains.” I growled appreciatively and she giggled. “Is someone getting excited?”