Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Riggs, though… he saw. This total jerk with a heart of gold understood me better than men I’d dated for months. How fucked-up was that?
“Carter?”
“Yeah?”
“Breathe.” Riggs demonstrated, drawing a deep breath of his own and letting it out slowly. “The bath was supposed to help calm you down, but I swear you’re tenser now than you were when you went in.” He squeezed the muscles in my shoulders. “It’s gonna be okay, okay? I messaged with Hux. He said Champ and the team are on their way.”
“Good.” I nodded. “That’s good. When my parents died, we had a hell of a time getting the bodies back. I don’t want my grandfather to have to go through that again.”
Riggs shook my shoulders firmly. “Stop it. We’re not dying, Carter.”
I rolled my eyes. “I appreciate you trying to be protective or whatever. You’re a five-star bodyguard. But I told you from the beginning to level with me. We have no idea when the real Gustavo is coming back. They’re not getting here in time, Riggs.”
“Yes. They will.”
I stared into Riggs’s eyes, which were blazing with something between worry and anger. “Riggs—” I began impatiently.
“Do you remember what I told you when we were first captured, Doc? You’ve got to believe it’s going to be okay. Because if you think you’re gonna fail, you will.”
“Yes, yes, that’s very inspiring.” I took a step away from him and waved a hand. “Put that saying on a picture of a cute kitten, and you’ll sell a million posters. But you can’t self-fulfilling-prophecy your way out of this. I can think positive thoughts all day, and Gustavo Santiago is still gonna kill us.”
Riggs was silent for a moment. “It’s okay to be scared—”
“I didn’t say I was scared!” I yelled back. I squeezed my eyes shut, well aware of how ridiculous I sounded, and my shoulders slumped. “I’m terrified,” I admitted. “And I hate it. I hate feeling this way. I hate that I can’t control it. But it’s no good telling me not to be, okay? I’ll hold it together when it counts, I promise. I’m not going to be a liability.” I picked up my towel from where I’d dropped it and wrapped it around me again. I wasn’t doing this—whatever this was—naked. “I should find my clothes and go see if they’ll let me check on Buck and Gianluigi.”
Riggs reached out a hand and grabbed my wrist, dragging me over to the bed and forcing me to sit facing him.
“Did I ever tell you about the time I was held hostage in Afghanistan?”
I raised one eyebrow. He knew perfectly well he hadn’t.
“Right, okay.” He licked his lips in an uncharacteristic show of uncertainty. “This is not my favorite story to tell, ’cause I come off like an idiot, which means you’ll love it.”
I snorted. Might be nice for him to be the one who looked like an idiot for a change.
“So, me, Champ, Bishop—who was our comms expert at the time—and this other guy, Elvo, were working a rescue job in Afghanistan near… well. It doesn’t matter where.” He cleared his throat. “We didn’t usually do these jobs, ’cause the military can get shit done way more efficiently than a private organization in certain parts of the world, but this client was…” Again, he hesitated. “Eh. Who he is doesn’t matter either.”
I frowned. “Is this stuff classified?”
“Sorta, yeah? I mean, not officially. But we’re a security company, you know? It’s in everyone’s best interest for me to not go blabbing information.” He shifted uncomfortably. “Anyway. Suffice it to say, that mission was a goatfuck—and that part was not my fault and is the reason Bishop doesn’t work for Champ anymore—but it ended with our comms knocked out, Elvo running off to who-the-fuck-knows where, Champ with a head injury so bad he couldn’t stay awake for more than thirty minutes at a stretch, and me sitting in a shack maybe forty klicks from our exfil location, trying to keep him alive, while prisoners in other rooms—guys who were taken at the same time we were—were crying out for help.”
“Holy shit.” I wanted to touch him, to comfort him, even though this had obviously happened years ago, but I wasn’t sure if I should. I wasn’t sure if he’d welcome it.
“For three fucking days, these armed guards stood right outside the door and mentioned us by name, trying to figure out which of the prisoners in the place was Riggs and which was Champion, and every time they said my name, my gut would cramp because I’d known guys who’d been taken prisoner before, and the kidnappers always wanted them to either give up intel on American troops, which we didn’t have, or ransom money, which I also didn’t have. I’d been trained for this stuff, thought I had a handle on how to be a good prisoner, but after forty-eight hours with no food or water, huddled with Champ for warmth in subzero temperatures, thinking he was gonna die, unable to feel my toes and knowing I might not be able to run even if I got the chance, my mind was…” He blew out a breath. “It was dark, baby. I knew for a fact that I was gonna end there, and I was scared to death.”