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)
“Shit.” Her mouth tensed, and her gaze flew between Jackson and me.
“Please shut the door.” My voice broke, and my shoulders rose as the first sob racked through me.
Jackson moved, heading my direction, but Sam was faster and shut the door before he got there. And because Sam never did anything half measure, the deadbolt followed.
What was left of my pulverized heart shattered into so many pieces it may as well have been sand.
Sam sat and pulled me into her arms while I cried.
“It’s going to be okay,” she whispered, even though we both knew it wasn’t.
So I did what I always did. Wiped my tears, lifted my chin, and waited for the pain to pass.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Jackson
I finished packing my second duffel and placed it next to the first in my entryway. All I had left to do was pack my carry-on.
Our flight left tomorrow afternoon.
The last week had both flown immeasurably fast and dragged like hell. The time I spent with Fin disappeared in a heartbeat, and the moments I stood at my window and blatantly stared at Morgan’s house…those seemed to last forever and hurt like hell.
If you love me as much as you say you do, you will walk out that door and you won’t come back. You’ll let me heal. You’ll let me go. Her words had played on repeat inside my head for the last eight days. The sound of her sobs came in a close second. Her telling me that she’d never said she loved me? I blocked that out as much as possible.
Every day I climbed her steps and left a single piece of sea glass next to the one I’d left the day before. She was amassing quite the little pile, and I was paying quite the bill to Christina, since I didn’t have much sea-glass hunting time left. But unlike the last time I’d left daily reminders that I wasn’t giving up, this time she hadn’t accepted them.
The situation wasn’t hopeless, since she still lived next door, but it wasn’t exactly hopeful, either.
“You should take Phillip,” Finley said.
I turned away from the window to see the world’s saddest little girl staring at me. I hoisted her up and sat her on my forearm so that we were eye level. “You think I should take a blind turtle on deployment?”
She nodded solemnly.
“Maybe I should have asked why you think I should take him?” I tried to match her serious expression and failed.
“Cousteau is a fish. He can’t go. Barnaby would escape, so he can’t go. And Juno pees in your shoes.” She wrinkled her nose. “But Phillip would fit in your pocket.” She tapped the breast pocket of my button-down shirt. “Not that one, of course. It’s too small.”
“So I should take Phillip because he can breathe without water, he’s too slow to escape, and he won’t pee in my shoes?” I raised my eyebrows at her.
“Yep. Plus, he fits in your pocket.” Her big brown eyes were almost impossible to deny, but in this case, I was going to have to hold out.
“I won’t have a lot of time for pets, Fin. It’s mostly flying and paperwork. Is there some other reason Phillip needs to come?”
Her little lips pursed, and she stared long and hard at the floor.
“Finley?” I asked gently.
“So you don’t forget me.” There were no tears, thank God, but the misery in her eyes broke my heart, then trampled it.
My chest constricted, but I managed not to lose my shit in front of her. “Fin, sweetheart, there’s no chance I could forget you. Zero. I don’t need to carry Phillip around when I have you right here.” I took her hand and put it on top of my heart. “Will it make you feel better if you hear the plan again?”
She nodded.
“You have a brand-new phone!” I made a jazz hand with the one that wasn’t holding her and was rewarded by a tiny smile. “Now, what are the rules of this brand-new phone, Finley Montgomery?”
Her eyebrows furrowed with concentration. “Only use it at home or at Grandma’s.”
“Correct.”
“Keep it charged.”
“You got it.”
“Answer when you call for video chat.”
“Bingo. Every day at seven before school and every night before bed as promised. You’ll be so sick of my face you won’t want me to come home.”
She giggled. Oh, sweet victory.
“And what happens if I have to go rescue people and can’t make it to a call?”
“You’ll send a text or call earlier…or later!” There was a grin, too.
“And what happens to that phone when I get home?”
She twisted her puckered lips from side to side. “I have to give it back.”
“Yep. This phone is for deployment only, so consider it a perk.” I tweaked her nose. “But what is the number one rule of the deployment phone?” I set my features as sternly as possible.