Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Which leaves the main floor quiet enough for me to hear Kira pad in wearing socks, leggings, and one of the sweaters I picked out for her.
She stops when she sees me sitting at the kitchen counter. “You’re still up?”
“I’m about to finish the last of the dishes. I’ve had the skillet soaking.”
“I can get that for you.” The gentle smile on her face hits me harder than it should.
I should say no. She’s still recovering from her injuries, and I prefer to handle things myself. Despite that, I find myself saying, “I’ll wash. You can dry.”
The way she stands next to me at the sink, a towel ready in her hand, stirs up memories I usually keep locked away.
“Do you always stay up this late?” she asks as I’m scrubbing a stubborn spot.
“Usually. I have to, to keep up with the intel Viper stockpiles. He doesn’t power off like most humans.”
Her soft laugh tightens something in my chest. “The briefings you’ve been giving me are more helpful than you probably realize,” she says.
“The more you know about what we’re tracking, the less helpless you’ll feel.” I rinse the pan, then turn off the tap and let the water drain from the skillet before handing it to her. “And you are not helpless, Kira.”
Emotions flicker across her delicate features as she focuses on the task at hand. “Thank you.”
When she’s finished, I put the pan in its place in the cupboard. “Fire’s still going. Want to sit for a few minutes?”
She hesitates, but nods, her eyes shy when they meet mine.
I ladle hot cider into two mugs from the pot Grizz keeps simmering on the stove in the evenings. I usually add a shot of bourbon to mine, but that wouldn’t be fair to Kira, who’s avoiding alcohol.
When I hand off one of the mugs, her fingers brush mine, and I ignore the sparks that shoot up my arm. I have no business reacting to her like that.
We settle in the living room, in front of the fire. Kira takes a spot on one side of the couch, tucking her legs beneath her. I choose the armchair, where I’m close enough to talk and far enough away to keep myself in check.
She holds her mug in both hands and stares into the fire as warm reflections dance in her clear blue eyes. After a sip, she says, “Can I ask you something personal?”
“Go ahead.”
“How old are you?”
That was more of a softball than I expected. “Forty-eight.”
Her brows lift. “You don’t look it.”
I huff a laugh and rub a hand over the top of my head. My hair’s due for a trim. “That so? Despite all the gray?”
Viper reported that Kira’s twenty-eight. Two decades younger than me. I’m old enough to be her father.
I must seem ancient to her. Hell, I am ancient. My back reminds me every day.
“And Grizz?” she asks.
“Forty-five. Viper’s forty-three.”
“You all look younger than that … and stronger than men in their twenties.” She’s being kind, ignoring all the deep-etched lines on our faces. “Did you all meet in the Marine Corps?”
I nod and take a drink of cider. “We enlisted young. Grizz and Viper joined my team in Afghanistan, and we served together there, plus a few other places no one’s supposed to mention.”
“You saw action?”
“We did. Grizz was our explosives specialist. Viper worked reconnaissance and precision fire. A sniper, if you want the plain version.”
“Viper the sniper.” She grins at the rhyme as she takes in the information. “Were you the captain?”
“Gunnery Sergeant. Team leader.”
Kira tilts her head. A few strands of hair fall across her face before she brushes them away. “Thank you for your service.”
I shake my head. “I just did my job. The men did the hard part. But … thank you.”
“How long did you serve?”
“Eighteen years. Been out a little over a decade now.”
“Do you miss it?”
“I’m proud of what I did, but I knew when it was time to step away.”
Kira nods. “And then you founded Sentinel Security?”
“More or less. The three of us got out at different times and eventually drifted back together. We bought this land and built what we needed. Work gave us purpose.” I rub the back of my neck. “Still does.”
She continues to look thoughtful. “Makes sense.”
“What we do now isn’t combat, but our skills carry over.”
We sit and drink in silence for a few minutes until the energy shifts and Kira fidgets, changing position. “Atlas … I’ve noticed you wear a wedding band.”
I stiffen, then force myself to take a breath and exhale. “My wife’s name was Sarah.” Saying her name aloud is both warm and painful at the same time. “I met her at one of Sentinel’s first clients, a nonprofit in the city. Shortly after our fifth wedding anniversary, she collapsed during a hike.”