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)
“Eeep!” She broke out a full-fledged grin, her excitement shining through, and then she was off. She ran over to the food counters and grabbed a pudding cup before she sprinted for the exit.
“That should give us five minutes,” Beckett said. I glanced back at him as he bit off a chunk of the apple and sat down in Alex’s seat. “Are you ready to shit your pants?”
I felt my eyebrows lift. “Um.”
He shook his head and took another bite of his apple—which was highly distracting, by the way. That wasn’t supposed to be sexy.
“I’ll ask you this first,” he said, leaning forward a bit. “Do you know any of the names of your dad’s siblings?”
What the—why would he… I mean…
“Uh.” Fuck, get it together! Right. I cleared my throat and tried to focus. “Sure. Um. Ethan, Elise, Darius—”
“I fucking knew it,” he chuckled and smacked the table. “It’s actually true. Leighton, Darius Quinn is one of the best operators we’ve ever had. He used to work here—his brother too. Ryan. You have Hillcroft family.”
Wait, what? No, but—no. “Darius runs a seafood restaurant,” I argued.
Beckett smiled. “He didn’t always do that. He actually worked with my brother a few times. I’ve met him too.”
I sat up straighter, and I didn’t know what to think, what to say, how to react. Beckett had met with my dad’s brother? Holy shit.
He went on to explain how the revelation had unraveled downstairs earlier, with Beckett piecing things together with one of Shay’s partners, a Reese Tenley who also knew Darius, apparently…
The more he talked, the more my stomach grew tight with unease. Operator Rose…? Also knew Darius. Coach? Knew him. And Darius’s brother Ryan. Everybody fucking knew the Quinns around here, except me.
Like the flip of a switch, my mind was pulled in two different directions. One part of me wanted to cry my eyes out in jealousy. They knew these men. They knew my dad’s family. They had memories of them—and I didn’t. Meanwhile, the other side of me was ready to run for the hills, ’cause this was too much, too fast, too close. They were too close. What if they found out about me? What if they got angry? What if they thought I was a lunatic stalker? What if they had me kicked out of Hillcroft’s recruit program? I’d have nothing left.
I was building something here. I hadn’t appreciated it properly yet, or comprehended it, but now that I sensed the risk of losing everything, it terrified me. I’d gone out with Tanner and Riley. I’d suffered through nightclub music just to show I could be social. I’d exchanged fucking pleasantries in an attempt to make friends. Gabriella was now my study partner. I liked to spar with Miguel. We hit the gym together almost every morning. We battled it out on the mat, and then we worked out separately but close enough so that others didn’t approach to fucking chitchat. Luckily, there wasn’t much of that going on at Hillcroft, but Tanner needed a leash occasionally. Or to be told to heel.
Last but not least, I’d never see Alex again. She was so fucking cool. Like a tiny adult. She’d so clearly been raised by a father who couldn’t spell baby talk or had the patience for princess shit. Like, she loved her dolls, but they were special forces, cops, and pilots. Except for the doll she called Lydia. Lydia was a farmer, like her grandparents on her mom’s side.
All this could go away.
I swallowed dryly and felt a pressure spreading across my chest, and I wanted to tell Beckett to shut the fuck up, but no words came out. He was still talking—wait. Was he on the phone? Why couldn’t I hear him?
I blinked hard and sucked in a breath—
“Yeah, right about now—she’ll knock and try to run away,” he was saying. “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.” He ended the call and stood up. “Let’s go find a quiet place, pup.” He cupped my elbow and ushered me out of my seat, and I couldn’t fucking function. Not consciously anyway. I followed him on autopilot as the edges of my vision went darker and blurrier.
My fingers tingled like when my leg sometimes fell asleep, and with a single shot of panic, my pulse went through the roof, and I broke out in a cold sweat. What the fuck was happening? Escape, escape, escape. Beckett ushered me into the stairwell, and I gulped in some air. Not enough. Oh fuck. I had to get out of here—I had to be alone. This was… It was a panic attack, wasn’t it? I’d had a couple of those in the Army, but they’d felt different. They’d been centered around grief and losing Mom.
This was fine. A panic attack wasn’t going to kill me. I was okay. Nothing was wrong. It would pass. I’d just focus on one step at a time. Gray walls, Beckett’s utility pants, random Caps sticker on the wall, concrete stairs, Alex’s backpack in Beckett’s hand.