Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 141165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
I clutch her green-painted cheek. “You’re not, Jane.” I suddenly sense movement coming in on my three o’clock, and I drop my hand off her face.
My expression hardens as I watch actors in masks wield chainsaws and chase two zombie girls in our direction.
My head is so wrapped up in my emotions, I need to keep checking myself.
Get your mind right.
Protect her. Protect her—that’s my sole duty.
The girls shriek bloody murder, running towards us, and I shoot a death glare at one of the actors who hawk-eyes Jane.
No.
If he comes over here and tries to wave a weapon at her—unchained or not—he’s on the ground. It’s too easy for a masked actor to harass a famous one under the guise of Halloween. A clown has been trying to “poke” Luna all night, and we posted most of the extra security on her detail with Quinn.
Security Rules: SFO aren’t supposed to work events like tonight’s. It’s been a stipulation in the past, after Omega gained fame. Farrow and I are even higher on that fucking shit list for being more publicly recognizable now. But we need more eyes tonight, so the Tri-Force allowed us to go on-duty. We just had to bring twice as many temp guards along.
If I weren’t the one protecting Jane here, I’d be going out of my fucking mind.
The actor sees me and lifts up his growling chainsaw, high-tailing his ass toward the crate of floating apples. He scares off the cluster of fairies.
Focusing back on her ankle, I gently slip off her untied boot. Her ankle is swollen. I study the wince in her bunched brows. Her jaw sets like she bites down pain.
I just want to comfort her in any way I can. “Tell me if I’m hurting you.” The words come out, and my chest knots. Whatever hard call I make soon, I feel like I’m hurting Jane. She loses a bodyguard or she loses a boyfriend.
I can’t be both to her anymore, and even now, it’s only halfway. Rules and red tape and 3 a.m. closing hours.
“You’re not,” she says quickly, exactly what I just said to her. You’re not being unfair to me, Jane. You’re not hurting me, Thatcher.
But this is unfair to us and it is hurting us, and I rake a hand through my hair. “If you can’t walk, I’m going to carry you.” I peel a flyaway, frizzed strand of hair off her lips.
She smiles, but it fades in a thought. “Are you allowed to carry me? Didn’t security tell you that we’re supposed to appear distant for the breakup?”
Alpha and Epsilon gave me clear instructions:
Don’t be too physical with her.
No kissing.
Treat her more like she’s just a client.
In this situation, I’d carry my client, but also, fuck them for these fucking orders. It’s unnecessary. “Yeah, I’m allowed—”
“Janie!” Maximoff calls from the distance, jogging over like she’s in mortal danger. He’s dressed as Captain America. Farrow smiles over at his fiancé, more at ease but keeping pace. I notice a baggie of ice in his hand, trauma bag strapped across his chest.
Farrow could’ve been a lifeguard like the rest of the team. But he had a choice, and he made the right call.
He’s the Winter Soldier, but with his regular dyed, bleach-white hair. SFO has been talking about how Farrow and Maximoff broke the internet when they stepped outside together.
It’s taken a spotlight off the public hating that I didn’t dress up with Jane.
My brother is also in tow. He’s been attached to Maximoff tonight since Farrow has had to make med calls.
Banks stares deeply into me like it’s going to be alright. He’s been giving me that look all day.
I asked him what I should do, and he said, “I’m not the one who makes the calls. You are.” I almost rolled my eyes, but he gave me advice.
He said, “I think she’s afraid, and you’re afraid.”
Yeah. I think he’s right, and this is going to be the hardest trigger I have to pull. In either direction. It’s still tearing me up.
Indecision is hell to me.
“I’m okay,” Jane says to her best friend. Maximoff takes a seat on the hay bale and hugs her shoulders.
I stand up, and Farrow replaces me to check her ankle. He presses around her foot, and I scan the perimeter and her.
Banks is beside me, and comms are active, constant chatter in my ear. I tune in.
“Sulli is going into Hell 2,” Akara says, using the code for one of the haunted houses. He’s required to go into those areas with his client. He’s just updating the team of their location change.
Banks clicks his mic. “With or without the Rooster?” Rooster is code for Will Rochester.
“With,” Akara says heatedly.
Jane was hanging out with Luna and Sulli earlier tonight. Before the ankle injury. So I saw Akara on-duty, and at first, he was trying to do what I would’ve done in his situation.