Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 105825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
And tomorrow would be much, much worse. Tomorrow, I had to say goodbye. Every time I thought about the funeral, it was like I’d stepped off a cliff and was plunging down into nothingness.
Then I saw something reflected in the glass, something dark behind me that shouldn’t be there. I turned and saw the black denim hanging on the back of my door. Shit! JD’s jacket!
I lifted it down from the hook. The denim was rough on the outside but inside, it was surprisingly soft: I remembered how comforting it had been when he’d put it around me. I brought it to my face and inhaled: it smelled of him, of the outdoors and leather and man.
I had to get it back to him. It was exactly the sort of simple, practical mission I needed to focus me. He’d given me his number, in case the cops needed to get hold of him.
I took a deep breath and dialed. As the line rang, I stared out of the window at the gray concrete, gray sky and cold, gray rain. JD seemed very distant.
And then suddenly, he wasn’t distant at all.
“Hello?”
I gripped the phone hard: it was like the phone line was a tiny tunnel leading out of all the grayness to a bright world where people were still happy, still living their lives.
“It’s me,” I said, shocked at how shaky my voice sounded. I hadn’t said much to anyone in days.
“Lorna.” God, my name, in that deep, growly voice… The cold grayness was pushed back a little and it felt so good, I nearly lost it.
Focus, Lorna.
“Um. I still have your jacket,” I told him. “If you give me your address, I’ll mail it to you.”
“How are you and Cody doing?”
I fought to keep my voice level. “We’re okay. What’s your address?”
“Lorna. How are you doing?” It was an order, of sorts, and I couldn’t disobey, not when it came in that voice, like rock that’s been warmed by the sun.
“You know, o—” I started to say okay again and shrug, but my voice hitched and the shrug collapsed. “I don’t know,” I said at last. “It’s the funeral, tomorrow.”
“You want some company?”
My breath caught. Him? Here? That was insane. But it also sounded really, really good. It made no sense. I barely knew him, we’d met twice, but when I thought about the funeral, about facing the void where my dad used to be, the person I wanted by my side was JD Taggert.
I pushed the idea away. “That’s crazy, JD,” I said. “You’re in Colorado. It’s halfway across the country!”
I could hear something unfamiliar in my voice: it made me think of violin strings, stretched so tight they’re about to snap. And he heard it, too.
“It ain’t that far,” he said firmly. “What’s the name of the church?”
I swallowed and debated and finally told him, and he said he’d be on the first flight out in the morning.
“Thank you,” I said, my voice ragged. I felt like I’d cracked in two right in front of him, and he could see right to my beating heart.
“Not a problem,” he told me. “I’ll see you soon.”
I ended the call, breathing hard. What have I done?! I felt terrible, dragging him all the way back to New York. I lifted my thumb to call him back.
But I knew I wouldn’t be able to talk him out of it. And for the first time, I had a tiny shred of hope. When I thought about the funeral, I still felt that sickening, terrifying plunge, like I was falling. But now I knew there’d be someone to catch me.
11
JD
I only own two suits. One of them’s gray and I bought it when all my buddies were getting married. I’m past that age, now, and the only time I dig it out is when Kian, the head of Stormfinch Security, drags me to Washington.
Then there’s the other one. The black one.
I’ve worn that one too many times, stood next to grieving wives and parents and told them it was an honor to serve with him. Then, four years ago, I had to root in the back of my closet and dig it out again, and that time, Jillian wasn’t there to help me get my tie straight and Max wasn’t there to tell me you look sharp, Dad because it was them I was saying goodbye to.
People say you go through these stages, after someone dies. Denial and anger and a whole mess more. You know what I felt, after I lost them?
Confusion.
I never claimed to be the smartest. Just a big, dumb soldier who does what he’s told. The battlefield’s where I belong: I know where I am, there. All I wanted was to serve my country and come home and share my life with someone, raise a kid and try to make him a good man. I always knew there was a risk I’d be killed, leaving Jillian a widow and Max without a dad. But the one scenario I never planned for was me surviving them. When it happened, I just couldn’t understand it.