Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 145823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
That drew him up short, and we faced off in the entrance hall.
Throwing my head back, I stared at the lofted ceiling, praying for my throat to open, but it wouldn’t. I was a little girl caught in the middle of a hungry boa constrictor. Tighter and tighter it drew, taking my air supply.
“Maybe we should sit down? I’m getting worried about you over here.”
“You’re worried?” I spat back. “You’re deploying. I’m the one you expect to sit here and wait and worry, and I’m not going to do it! Not again. No!”
“Kitty, please listen to me. I’m not going to a war zone. I’m going to the beach.”
My heartbeat wasn’t a bass drum anymore. It was a staccato snare, and my breaths came so fast that the room around me felt distant, but I forced my mind to work. “Twenty twelve, four dead. Twenty ten, three dead. Two thousand eight, four dead. Two thousand four, six dead—”
“Fuck,” he swore, low and soft. “I know what happened with every single one of those crashes.”
“Coast Guard. Search and rescue crashes,” I added between gasping breaths as my back hit the wall. “You can’t. Make. Me do. This again. I won’t. Not for you. Not for. Anyone.” My head buzzed.
“Kitty,” he begged, and the agony in his eyes was more than I could stand. “Okay, talking about this is putting you at risk, and I don’t want—”
“Ha! Exactly!” I shouted at him as my throat closed even tighter.
“I won’t be at risk. Not any more than usual. No one’s going to be shooting at me, Morgan. It’s not the same, baby. Please.”
Shooting. Will. First the RPG that crashed Jagger. Then the next one that took down the medevac with Josh and Will on board. Then the small arms fire that hit Will in the sweet spot that wasn’t covered by Kevlar. Even the best pilots weren’t immune to bullets, right? We had no control in fate. No control. None. People died. And he bled out right there, in some dusty, rocky valley in Afghanistan, all because he’d been ordered to deploy. He was dead. And Jackson was deploying. Jackson, who had become my whole world. Jackson and that same helicopter. Jackson. Jackson. Jackson was talking. What was he saying? Jackson was deploying. Deploying. Deploying. Why had I let this happen again? My past was repeating because I was too stupid to stop it. The jam was sticky. The shoes went into the trash. The necklace. The necklace. The blues—
The air ceased. Pain erupted, so sharp it stopped my hurricane of a brain. I concentrated on my neck muscles and visualized them opening. Air rushed through again, and I gasped.
“Can you hear me?” His hands were on my shoulders. “You’re having an anxiety attack. Let me get Sam and your rescue meds—”
“No!” Using them was defeat. It was a step backward, and I was supposed to be moving forward. I was at a three. A three!
Unless I was triggered. Deployment? Trigger. Jackson flying? Trigger. Jackson himself…
“Sam!”
I ripped out of his arms and slid down the wall. Once my butt hit the tile, I drew my knees to my chest. Breathe. Open your throat. It’s in your mind, not your body.
“What is going— Holy shit.”
Thudding footsteps.
“She’s having an anxiety attack.” Jackson dropped to his knees before me. God, those eyes were so blue. Just like my sea glass. Blue. Blue. Blue. So beautiful. Of course I fell for him, and because I did, now he would go.
“Okay. Give me a second.”
“Just breathe, Kitty.” His voice was calm. Why was he so calm? Why was he still here? Didn’t he understand that I couldn’t do this?
My fingernails dug into my kneecaps.
“It’s okay.” He reached for me but thought better of it. “God, I wish you’d let me hold you.”
Can I hold you? Just this once before I go. The next time I kiss you will be after this deployment.
The vise around my throat squeezed.
“Move,” Sam ordered.
Jackson slid to the side.
“Here we go.” Sam held out a white, oval pill and a bottle of water.
“No,” I denied. “Over. A month.”
Her eyes softened for a heartbeat, and then she was steel again. “Yep, so this time we’ll push for two months between. We set the goals we can attain, remember?”
She thrust the offering my way and waited for me to decide. She gave me power in a moment I had none.
I swallowed the pill. It took half the bottle of water to get it down my throat, but it was in. A small brown paper bag appeared next. I grasped it with two hands, brought it to my face, and began breathing.
“There we go,” Sam said softly. “You just breathe and wait for the meds to kick in. What the hell did you do?” That last part wasn’t aimed at me.