Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
“Whatever. Look, I’ve got to run. Take care of yourself.”
He ended the call, and I threw my phone across the room. Fortunately, it landed on a chair and didn’t shatter. I would have been even more pissed if I’d had to buy a new one.
What the hell was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I say those few, simple words?
Because he showed you exactly how he feels.
Sabrina’s right. He’s an asshole.
Was he? What had I seen in Mario that made me idolize him? He was brave and incredibly patient with new recruits. He could shoot with a precision most people—even other recon guys—couldn’t imagine. He was the perfect soldier. Or was he? Had he listened to orders that day in the village?
You warned him—
It wasn’t my place to tell him.
Had I loved a man who didn’t exist? No. I refused to believe that. There was as much good in Mario as there was prejudice and arrogance. Or there had been, anyway. I remembered the dead look in his eyes when we’d said goodbye. He’d said he wasn’t good for anything anymore but killing. He’d declared that he was going to die over there. Could I save him? Could Sabrina?
No—not if he knew who we really were.
That thought hurt so much I thought my chest might split in two. Mario had been everything to me. He’d given me purpose, helped me find myself. And then, when I was captured, it was Mario who pulled me out of that goddamn suffocating prison.
I’d been a mess when I joined up—wild, untrained, and full of hate—but Mario had seen my potential and helped me make myself into a soldier. And we’d saved people together. We’d made a difference when we could, but there’d been so much shit we couldn’t fix, so many people we couldn’t help. I’d had to get out, or I would’ve died inside too.
I dropped my head into my hands and let the stinging sensation behind my eyes turn into tears. One splashed onto the back of my hand. I watched the droplet break apart from the impact.
Was I going to break apart too?
I wasn’t sure I could both hold myself together and hold onto Jeremy.
I curled into a ball and sobbed. The hell I’d been through the last year of my tour had sent cracks through me, and now they were shattering.
Jeremy called the next morning before I headed to my first appointment of the day. I almost didn’t answer. He knew I’d been planning to call Mario, and I didn’t want to admit my failure. “Good morning.”
“Good morning to you too,” he said. “How did it go last night?”
“Um… he wasn’t available.” Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I’d just lied to Jeremy—not avoided or shaded the truth but flat-out lied. I was doing exactly what David feared. Suddenly the cereal I’d eaten didn’t seem so settled in my stomach.
“That’s too bad,” Jeremy sounded disappointed, but he’d bought the lie.
“I’ll try again.” Would I?
“Okay. I wanted to ask you something.”
It must be something he thought I wouldn’t like, or he wouldn’t be hesitating. “Whatever it is, just ask.” I tried to make the words sound encouraging rather than annoyed, but I wasn’t sure it worked.
“There’s a faculty awards banquet at Wentworth on Saturday night. I’d really like you to come with me. I wouldn’t normally go myself, but I’m getting a research award. It’s dressy casual, not formal or anything. And I…. Fuck, is this too much?”
I answered honestly. “I’m not sure.”
“We don’t have to say you’re my date.”
“You’re gay, they know that. Everyone will assume I’m your date.” Unless they didn’t think Jeremy could be interested in a dumb jarhead.
“I’ve brought David before,” Jeremy said.
“And—” Wouldn’t the other professors make the same assumptions about the two of them that I had?
“All right, a lot of people did think we were together.”
“Until David flirted with all the women there?” I fought the urge to laugh. Straight or not, David sure could look gay when he wanted to.
“Actually, most of them aren’t his type.”
“Too uptight?” I asked.
“No, too hippified.”
I burst out laughing at the image of coolly beautiful Jeremy and flashy David amidst a sea of patchouli-scented women in patchwork skirts.
“So, what do you think? Will you go with me?”
I sighed. I wanted to be there for him, wanted to jump into an out-of-the-closet relationship with both feet. “I’ll go.”
“You will?” The surprise in his voice hurt when it shouldn’t have.
“You thought I’d say no?”
“Well, yeah, but not because—”
“I told you I was going to try.” Why the hell was I being pissy? Because I’m mad at myself. Because I chickened out and then fucking lied about it.
“I want you to do this for yourself, not just for me,” he said.
“Okay.” But that alone would never motivate me the way finding Jeremy had.
“What happened to Mario on your last mission?”