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)
Once in his room, I went over to his couch and sat down, and I moved the two books from the other half, a silent indication for him not to sit on his bed.
“Okay, pick my brain,” he said. “Let me know if I’m a psycho.”
I chuckled and cut into my pork chop. “I’ll leave that to Doc. I’m just curious, especially when it comes to how you think you’ll react around death and violence. When you shot Nassim, for instance. You didn’t have much of a reaction afterward.”
Leighton pulled up his legs on the couch and held his plate close. “I already walked Doc through every second of that night. Like, I felt the adrenaline starting to rush when I understood it was an intruder. And after that, I just… I don’t know, it’s hard to explain. I was hyperfocused, and the whole thing didn’t faze me much. Even after.” He shrugged and shoveled food into his mouth. “Doc’s main concern seems to be making sure those normal reactions don’t build up over a long time and fuck me up later in life.”
I nodded with a dip of my chin and chewed. Riggs was right; this was good.
“Yeah, that’s one of the biggest concerns,” I replied. “Just don’t let the norm scare you. Including my time in the Army, I’ve been in this game for almost twenty-five years, and I’ve yet to see a backlash. Not everyone gets affected by what we do, and that’s fine.”
He nodded slowly, mulling things over as he ate.
I let the silence take over and focused on eating, and it was time to set new boundaries for myself. Leighton hadn’t reacted well to my pulling back a while ago, and I didn’t wanna do that to him again. Nor did I wanna limit my interactions with him as long as shit stayed platonic and appropriate.
I was confident I could keep my personal attachment separate from our dynamic as mentor and recruit. So, bring it on. I wanted more of this. Just him and me talking, hanging out after hours… Coach and Doc would obviously not approve, but fuck it. If I couldn’t break the rules entirely, I was at least gonna allow myself to finger-fuck the gray area.
“What if I get a taste for it?”
I glanced back at him and found him staring at his food. But he wasn’t talking about his pasta, was he? It was the killing. The violence.
“Is that something you’re worried about?” I asked.
He seemed unsure. He picked at his food and shrugged with one shoulder. “I felt good after I shot Nassim. The adrenaline rush of it, I mean. Something happened to me.”
What was the saying, it was always the quiet ones?
Because I’ll be fucking damned.
How similar were we?
“Let me guess…” I pushed the tray away from me and pulled up a leg on the couch so I could face him better. “When the shots went off, you could suddenly breathe easier, and it was an addictive shock to the system.”
He snapped his gaze to mine, and he looked like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
I was spot-on. So he hadn’t told Doc everything.
“I can’t explain it, but I think I’ve had something building up inside me for as long as I can remember,” he said quietly. He struggled to make eye contact. “Before Mom died. I don’t know—it just feels…dark. Like there’s something wrong with me.”
I had a feeling I knew what he was talking about. I’d just gone through it earlier than he had. By the time I left the Army, I’d come to terms with that inner darkness. But unlike Leighton, I’d had my brother. Vince had been much the same.
“Different doesn’t mean wrong, pup,” I murmured. “We can’t all be textbook cases.”
He hummed. “Yeah, maybe.” He cleared his throat. “I’d like to think my principles are strong. It’s not like I fantasize about killing and making enemies pay—it’s that adrenaline rush. For years, I’ve craved something to make me feel alive, and after what happened with Nassim…”
I got it. He feared he’d crave more each time.
“In that case, I’m not worried,” I said. “Our field is full of adrenaline rushes. It’s not all about killing. Trust me, you’ll get that rush when you’re closing in on a target too. When you’re in the middle of an extraction, when you’re running through the rainforest, when you finally get your hands on the intel you’ve been chasing for two months, and when you get briefed for your next assignments.”
A pinch of hope sparked in his eyes. “You think so?”
“I know so.” I planted my arm along the top of the back cushion. “That said, you can’t keep chasing rushes to feel alive.”
He frowned. “What choice do I have? It’s not like I wanna feel like a zombie.”