Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 86556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
“Do we want Shiny to handle the hell box?” Wes’s voice was nothing other than professional as he questioned Dustin, but he didn’t meet his eyes. “LT wants him cross-trained, right?”
Frankly, Dustin would feel a lot more comfortable with Wes controlling the detonator, but he nodded. “Yeah. Good experience for him.”
“Fuck, yeah.” Shiny celebrated as they got the last of the C-4 ribbons and charges in place. Wes carefully reviewed the charge placement as well as the det cord and Dustin did the same—even as a test operation, there was no margin for error here.
“Time to book it,” Dustin ordered as Wes started the countdown. They were cutting it very close to the target timeline. All four of them started running, but Shiny and Curly quickly outpaced Wes and him. Dustin turned to yell at Wes over his shoulder. “Come on.”
Several things happened all at once—Wes stumbled over some rocks, Shiny and Curly reached the clear zone, and the ground trembled, explosion imminent. Wes struggled to right himself but there wasn’t time.
“Get down!” Dustin yelled, throwing himself over Wes. Kaboom. The girder and pylons blew in the distance, rocks raining down on them. As soon as the explosion ended, Dustin rolled off Wes, heart pounding hard. Please be okay. Please. “You hurt?”
Not content to look with his eyes, his shaking hands swept over Wes, looking for injuries.
“I’m good.” Wes blinked, then shook his head with a grimace. “Got my bell rang damn hard though. Ears still ringing.”
“Fuck. We need a medic?” Shiny ran up, Curly fast behind him. The LT was going to have Dustin’s hide for this timing miscue—didn’t matter that Shiny had been the one with the hell box, Dustin should have made Wes take it or done another double-check. Something had gone wrong, and it was his fault.
“Nah.” Wes sat up, still shaking his head, voice too loud, like he couldn’t hear himself.
That curiosity was back on Curly’s face, and Dustin realized too late that his hand was still on Wes’s thigh. He moved it away, hoping the damage wasn’t already done. As it was, Curly and Shiny had undoubtedly heard the naked panic in his voice when he’d thought Wes was in danger. But he’d be concerned for any of his men, right?
Somehow he couldn’t make himself believe that—the hammering in his chest, sweat rolling down his back, and muscle tremors didn’t feel like ordinary concern. Those brief moments when he’d been sure Wes was hurt were some of the longest of his life.
Even now, he was having a hard time not touching Wes, wanting to make absolutely certain that he was okay—didn’t matter what Wes said, Dustin was still worried.
“It was my fault,” Wes said quickly. “Det cord must have been too short. Don’t let the LT come down on Shiny.”
“It’s my responsibility.” And so are you, Dustin’s heart added. “I’ll tell the LT that.” He tried to give Shiny a reassuring look even as his concern remained with Wes. And it stayed there, heart and brain operating independently of his commands even as the LT and training ops personnel came to find out what had happened.
I’m not sure how much longer I can do this. Dread, sick and sharp, pierced him right in the gut. He simply wasn’t prepared for dealing with this avalanche of emotions, this overwhelming need to ensure Wes’s safety. He’d done his duty for well over a decade now, and never, not once, had he been as freaked out as he was right then. Something’s got to give.
* * *
Wes was so tired even his eyelids ached. Wasn’t a part of him that didn’t hurt—the fall plus Dustin landing on him had bruised him up pretty good, and what parts were unmarked were dog tired. Hell, even his toes inside his boots were desperate for a nap. But he wasn’t one of the guys who could sack out on the transport back to base—even this tired, sleep and him couldn’t seem to make nice. Instead, he stretched his legs as much as he could, cracked his neck, and watched Dustin.
He was still freaked out, that much was clear from the wide set to his eyes and the way his leg was jangling, even now a few hours after the blast gone wrong. Dustin had, predictably, insisted on taking full responsibility for the mishap, and while Shiny didn’t have a lot of fans in the team leadership, he’d avoided the worst of the LT’s wrath. Which meant that it was Dustin who’d endured an epic chewing out, one it had seemed like Dustin wasn’t even hearing, eyes continuing to return to Wes even as he and the LT had been talking away from the main group.
Under any other circumstance, he would have loved knowing that Dustin cared about him, worried even. But Wes was fine, other than the ringing ears and bruises, and Dustin needed to keep his head about him.