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)
I smiled at Hux again as I slipped past him and made my way down the stairs into the hazy sunshine that beat down on the tarmac.
Hold it together, Carter. Just a few more hours to Tennessee, and then… Shit. I had no fucking clue what would happen then.
My pocket vibrated, and I took out my Horn.
HogDocKev: You good?
KevsCuz: We landed safely.
I wouldn’t say I was good.
KevsCuz: Champion security has a plane here and we’re heading back to Tennessee. I’m not sure what airport. Maybe you could tell Grandfather?
HogDocKev: Yeah about that… He already knows. All of it. The head of the security company told him a few minutes ago. We’ll be there to meet you when you land.
KevsCuz: Both of you?
HogDocKev: Hells yes. You’re my favorite cousin and I love you. Remember?
I clutched the Horn tighter, my fingernails digging into the rubber casing.
KevsCuz: I remember. And I love you, too.
And that was what I needed to focus on. Family. Friends. That was my real life. The rest of this was nothing but a fantasy.
HogDocKev: Glad you said that, cause Grandfather maybe also called Dr. Wright and explained the situation, and he said he “activated the Beautification Corps.” I’m not sure what that’s code for.
I groaned.
KevsCuz: It’s code for him calling Ava Siegel, who’ll throw a welcome home party AND mobilize a casserole posse. I won’t have to cook for a month. They’ll probably decorate my front porch, too. And someone will stop by every single day.
HogDocKev: Sounds amazing.
KevsCuz: It is. And it’s not.
HogDocKev: You have so many friends. You’re so settled in the Thicket. It’s cool that you’ve found where you belong, Carter.
I blinked in surprise. Kev had only been to the Thicket for the gala, and he’d spent most of it hiding behind a tree. How would he know?
Before I could ask any follow-up questions about this, a barrel-chested blond man with a wide, white smile jogged out of the terminal. “Dr. Carter! I’m Champ. Great to meet you finally.”
I nodded politely. “Same. I wish the circumstances were better.” This was the man who’d been trapped with Riggs in Afghanistan. The man who’d threatened to castrate him if he fucked another guy while on a mission. Oh, God, do not think about that.
“You took the words out of my mouth.” His wide smile got impossibly wider. “I’d love to debrief you in a little while. Maybe we could step into the airport, you, me, Riggs, and the local authorities? We could talk about what happened, get a statement for the authorities—”
Wait. Champ, me, and Riggs? Sitting around talking about this whole experience, while Riggs pretended we’d never discussed anything more serious than the weather and I’d never taken his cock down my throat?
Fuck no. I couldn’t even imagine it. That would be like pouring salt on an open wound.
I threw my shoulders back and lifted one eyebrow just a tiny bit—a trick of my grandfather’s that made it seem like you were looking down on someone, even if they were taller than you. Then I summoned my iciest, most imperious tone as I interrupted, “Actually, Mr. Champion, I’d much rather you returned me home immediately. This has been a very difficult time, as I’m sure you can imagine. I’d be happy to make a statement, of course, but later. After I’ve seen my family again. After I’ve rested and recovered.”
Champ blinked but said smoothly, “Of course, Dr. Rogers. I was thinking maybe you’d like a minute to rest here before you—”
“No,” I assured him. “I’m eager to get underway.”
“Alright. Let me get you settled, and we can make plans to depart momentarily.”
I nodded once, regally. “Excellent. Thank you.”
Champ directed me to a brown leather couch at the back of the plane, where I sat and pretended to be engrossed in Horn of Glory as the team prepared the plane for departure. One by one, the rest of Champ’s men—the ones he’d brought, anyway—filed into the plane. A guy with golden eyes, golden-brown skin, and honey-brown Jesus hair. A slightly shorter redhead. Riggs. Champ, who led Buck Nutter to the couch across from mine. Huxley. And an incredibly gorgeous Black man with close-cropped hair, who locked the door to the plane, then turned to the crew and said, “Locked and loaded, Champ. We ready?” before heading for the pilot’s seat the second Champ gave him a nod.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Riggs stare at me as he walked toward the group of chairs where his buddies sat at the front of the plane, like he was trying to lift my gaze to his with the power of his mind. I would not look at him, though. What good would it do? I didn’t want to see him look apologetic or regretful or, God forbid, ashamed.
It wasn’t until the plane lurched forward for takeoff that I realized Champ might’ve had a good reason for wanting me to rest and decompress before flying again. My stomach heaved with the motion as the plane became airborne, and I clapped a hand over my mouth. The second it felt like we’d leveled off, I unbuckled my belt and rushed for the lavatory at the front of the plane.