Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 110(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 110(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
“No, Jan. She did lose it either.” Okay now I'm really in a spin cycle.
“Then,” He gives me a look of apology and I don’t understand why. My mind goes through every scenario, possibility and option and nothing. Nothing comes to me because the only thing left is..” my hand comes up to my mouth when it hits me.
“January, listen, it's not…” I step back from the counter shaking my head.
“No…Tell me it's not true.” Tears are coming so fast I can barely see. Snot is running down my nose onto my shirt, but I don't care.
“You have been my daughter from the moment I met your mother, and she told me she was pregnant. This changes nothing.”
Is he serious?
I don’t know who I am now.
This changes everything.
PROLOGUE
OLIVER HARDY
PRESENT DAY
It’s hot. It’s always hot. My water tastes like sand and grit. It doesn’t refresh. It never quenches my thirst. My dehydration is at an all-time high. I see things that don’t exist. That should frighten me, but nothing in this place does anymore. The desert sun is beating down on me through the window of the Humvee. We’re rolling along the deserted street. It’s odd that is so deserted. Usually kids play soccer in the streets but today there’s nothing. My gut churns with anticipation. The rest of the unit is quiet as we patrol. It seems like everyone is as on edge as I am. Suddenly, a loud noise and a flash of light blinds me as the truck spins around. Our unit medic, Molly Adams, screams and I look over in her direction. I know that this isn’t good as searing pain takes over all rational thought. My eyes close and then there’s nothing but darkness…
I jerk awake and almost fall off the couch. “Fuck,” I say, wiping my palm down my face. My reoccurring nightmare drives me crazy, but nothing seems to stop it. I’ve tried medication and therapy, but those don’t do anything for me, but this is my life now. Everything that could possibly change in my life has within the last six months. My career and family completely changed and there was nothing I could do about that. All I could do is adapt and move forward with my new normal.
Leaving the Army wasn’t something that I wanted to do, but when my back was broken, I had no choice when an undetected roadside bomb went off. My unit was patrolling a supposedly safe region in Iraq, but it was not. Our Humvee rolled several times, and my back was broken. I took the brunt of the blast, and it ended my career. I’ve been home for six months, after two surgery’s and nothing but bed rest, I’ve healed, but now I’m restless. I’m bored. I can’t clean this house anymore. It’s spotless, but there really is only so many times you can clean an oven.
“I’m home,” Natalie, my thirteen-year-old sister, shouts as she slams the front door. Three months ago our parent’s died in a car crash, and I got custody of her. There was no way in hell I’d let her go into the system. They say that things happen for a reason, and I shudder to think about what would have happened to Natalie if I had still been in Iraq. She’s my world now. For weeks she cried, and I could do nothing but hold her and stay strong. Her resilience is admirable.
“How was school?” I ask. It’s almost summer. Just a few days to go. She’s going to sleepaway camp for the first time. She begged and begged, and I didn’t have the heart to tell her no.
“It was school. We watched movies all day,” she says, shrugging. “Borrrrring.”
“Nice. Pizza?” I ask, hopeful. I don’t want to try to cook something, try being the operative word.
“Ugh, I’m sick of pizza. Can’t you, like, get a wife, or learn how to cook. Something. Anything,” she asks rolling her eyes. She exaggeratedly tosses her backpack onto the couch.
“Fine, let’s go,” I say, chuckling as I grab my car keys.
“Byrnes?” she asks excitedly, referencing our family’s favorite steakhouse in downtown Houston. We live in The Woodlands, a pretty good suburb about thirty-five minutes from the restaurant.
“Of course,” I say. “Let’s go, Nat-Attack.”
In the car, my phone rings and I answer it. My former captain, Gorn, comes though the Bluetooth. I spoke to him last week about him getting me a possible job with a local civilian contractor he knows.
“Corporal Hardy. How are you acclimating to civilian life?” he asks.
“As well as can be expected,” I lie.
“You never were the best liar, Hardy.”
“I know, sir. What do I owe the pleasure of this call?”
“I found a position for you to occupy your time.”
“Did you?” I ask, excited for the first time in a long time.