Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 145823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
“I know what happened to Will,” I admitted.
She blanched, her eyes flying wide, then narrowing. “Don’t ever say his name!” she cried, that finger coming at me again. “You don’t have the right!”
“Okay.” This was so far beyond bad that my stomach took up permanent residence in my feet.
“How dare you bring him into this!” Her finger trembled.
“Morgan, he’s already in this.”
She flinched and lowered her arm. “Who told you what happened? I know it wasn’t Sam. She wouldn’t do that to me.”
“No one told me.” I shifted my weight, hoping the motion would appease my need to cross the distance between us and hold her. It didn’t. “I saw the wings that day you had me get the registration out of the truck, and the name on those dog tags hanging from the mirror is the same one on the registration.”
“And you what? Googled him?” she fired back.
“Pretty much.” My lips pressed in a thin line as I nodded, knowing the gathering fire in her eyes was about to come right for me.
“How dare you!” Her hands dropped to form fists at her sides.
“I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have, but you’d just had that anxiety attack and—”
“And you decided that my past was up for investigation? You wanted to see what had turned me into a neurotic shell of who I used to be?” she cried.
“I wanted to solve a mystery that I knew you wouldn’t explain. And I don’t think you’re neurotic. I think you went through something that you’re still recovering from.” I tucked my hands into my pockets.
“If a woman doesn’t want to tell you about the fucked-up past that she’s barely survived, then you don’t go searching for it, you asshole!”
My eyebrows rose. That was the first time I’d ever heard the woman curse. “You’re right, and I’m so sorry.”
She offered me a look that clearly told me I was an idiot. “I’m sorry doesn’t remotely begin to cover this! You went looking for something you have zero right to know. If I wanted you to know, I would have told you! You. Had. No. Right!”
“I’m sorry, Morgan,” I said again. “I will make it up to you, I swear.”
“You can make it up to me by staying the hell away from me.”
I felt the blood rush from my face. “Please don’t ask that from me.”
“I’m not exactly giving you a choice,” she spat. “What did you think was going to happen? That I’d say it’s perfectly fine that you fly those death traps, and we’d…” She tilted her head. “What exactly do you want from me, Jackson?”
“You,” I replied, taking a step toward her. “I just want you.”
Her chin rose. “I’m not something you can have. Not now, and apparently not ever.”
She was pissed and hurt, and I knew there was a chance those words were simply a reflection of those feelings, but damn did they sting.
“I know that what you’ve been through has to make you scared of being with another pilot—”
“Don’t presume to know my feelings just because you threw Will’s name into a search engine,” she interrupted. “You might know all about how he died, but that doesn’t qualify you to even begin knowing the first thing about him, or the way I feel about him, or you, or anything!” Color flooded her cheeks, and her shoulders rose and fell fast enough that I started to worry about her having another attack.
“Fine, then how do you feel?” I questioned, my voice rising slightly. “Because you never talk about it. You’ve told me that you don’t talk to your best friend and that you can’t open that truck door, but you never go into the why of it. You know everything about me with the exception of how I make my money, and you never give me the same access. You never let me in!”
“Let you in? Like I actually want you to see inside this?” She gestured to her torso. “What do you want to know, Jackson? That I dream about him every night? That I watch the video he left for me before bed or I can’t sleep? That my nightmares are full of the sound of crunching metal and gunshots, but I wasn’t there with him, so my mind gives me a thousand different scenarios?”
“Morgan,” I whispered, reaching for her.
She moved away from my touch. “You think I’m scared to be with another pilot? I wasn’t even with Will! We never got the damned chance, and look how that turned out! I’m not scared of what you do—I’m terrified. I’m paralyzed by anxiety attacks I can’t control, and they’re so bad that one of my best friends has to live with me until I get through a therapy program for it! The same friend who Skypes with her husband every day because he’s flying helicopters in the same fucking country that took the man I loved, and every breath I take is heavy with dread that those fucking uniforms are going to show up at the door for Sam! Is that what you want to hear?” Her voice pitched to a near-scream.