Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
“Recruits Watts and Kelley!”
Jesus Christ. Beckett’s booming voice caused me to go rigid, and my heart jumped up into my damn throat.
“Holy fuck, sir,” Tanner blurted out shakily. “You don’t have to yell!”
I turned around and quickly walked over to my desk, and I caught a glimpse of Beckett’s less-than-happy expression.
“Evidently, I do,” he replied irritably. “I asked you to sit down twice already.”
Fuck, shit, fuck. I hadn’t heard him. “My bad, sir.” I sat down and dropped my notes and book on the floor. They weren’t allowed on the desk during a test.
Beckett unclenched his jaw and peered out over the class. “For those of you who aren’t busy flirting, you can tear out one page from your notebooks. The end of the test will come with an essay prompt, and I don’t wanna see another piece of paper without a name on it. It’s not fuckin’ rocket science to add your name. Do that now.”
Tanner and I exchanged a discreet WTF look. We hadn’t been fucking flirting.
Someone was in a shitty mood today.
Unfortunately, I had to raise my hand.
Beckett looked at me, stone-faced. “Speak.”
“Gabriella’s still sick,” I said.
He nodded once. “I’ve spoken with her.” That was that. He glanced at the others. “Leg is running five minutes late, so I will hand out the tests, and you have one hour to complete them in silence. If you finish before the hour is up, leave your test and the essay on the desk here and walk out.”
Aye-aye, Captain.
September 26th, 2024
Watching Alex do her math homework and count on her fingers might be my favorite when it came to babysitting that girl. She was so focused, and she huffed a lot.
I grinned to myself and shoveled more casserole into my mouth. Today’s lunch was fucking epic. Macaroni casserole with a shit-ton of cheese, different kinds of sausage, peppers, and zucchini.
Once Alex had finished the subtraction problem in her homework, I broke the silence. “What’s with the key around your neck?” I’d noticed it this morning.
She peered down and touched the little key. It looked like an actual key, not some charm.
“I thought I lost it, but Grandma had it,” she said. “Uncle Bo also has one on his key chain.”
“What’s it for?”
“A box. A secret box,” she replied frankly. “Me and Uncle Bo put something for Daddy in the box when I get sad and miss him extra much. It’s buried in a secret place. Very secret.”
I smiled. That was sweet.
“Daddy knows the place,” she added. “Auntie Kat says angels can see secret hiding spots. And look.” She leaned forward and held out the key as much as the necklace would allow. “It says AB for Alex Beckett. Uncle Bo’s says BB.”
I saw the embossed letters now. Definitely sweet. “Did Uncle Bo order those?”
Beckett was good at hinting—or saying it bluntly—that he wasn’t good with children, but he was great with Alex. Every day, he held a homeschooling class for Alex, where Beckett wrote on the board and made her laugh when he asked fictional students for answers. He was funny with her. I’d eavesdropped a few times before my shift with her started.
“Yeah, and he built the box in the garage,” she said. “He and Daddy always built stuff together. They built my bed and my dollhouse too.”
Right. Getting over my crush was going really fucking well.
September 28th, 2024
Saturdays were chill, especially the pool and the shooting range. I removed my earmuffs and—
“Nugget, Nugget, Nugget!”
What the fuck? I looked toward the door and spotted Alex and Beckett. How long had she been calling for me? The ear protection wasn’t that good.
I stepped out of my stall, and Alex strode toward me.
Beckett stayed by the door, arms folded over his chest. “No wonder Danny wants you in weaponry expert training.”
As flattering as that was, it wasn’t what I wanted. Weaponry experts spent less time in the field and more time teaching others to get better.
“Nugget, I’m going on vacation!” Alex exclaimed.
I lifted my brows. “Oh yeah? Where are you off to?”
She beamed up at me. “I’m going with Grandma to see Auntie Kat and Uncle Eric in San Diego.”
Oh shit. I’d expected to hear about an overnight trip in this area instead of the half-day outings Beckett took Alex on most weekends. San Diego was a bit more than that.
“Damn. When’re you leaving?” I glanced toward Beckett.
He checked his watch. “They’re wheels up in two hours, so we gotta step on it, mouse.”
Alex grabbed my hand. “Come meet my grandma! She’s upstairs.”
Wait, wheels up in two hours? They were cutting it awfully close.
I let Alex drag me to the doorway. “Two hours seems tight.”
“They’re not flying commercial,” was Beckett’s response.
Not flying commercial… Was something wrong? I assumed that meant they were flying private—or rather, on a Hillcroft plane. Operator Hyatt had told us about their small fleet of planes and helicopters.