Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Brenda had finished her Ph.D. in Pharmaceutical Sciences. She’d postponed the job search until they knew where they were going, but her degree was in demand, and she hadn’t anticipated a problem. She’d stayed in Chicago, close to her parents, through his deployments. They wanted time with Ryan, and she needed support while working on her degree. He thought she would be reluctant to leave Chicago, but when he brought it up, she hugged him with that glowing smile and told him she couldn’t wait to escape. He could still recall the relief he felt.
That picture was a moment in time when they had everything in front of them. Years of hard work and sacrifice were starting to pay off. The future looked bright.
Happier times. If he could go back to any point in his life, this would be the one.
Ten years later she was dying. The cancer was aggressive and resisted treatment. They thought they had decades left. They had months.
He took emergency leave and when that ran out, he asked to extend it. It was denied. The command wanted to move him up from XO to his own battalion. He was in line for promotion to lieutenant colonel. His CO called him in and told him that he had to think about the future. As tragic as things were, in six months he would be a widower, but he would still have a son and the rest of his life. He had a solid track record. He could go very far if he made the right choices. Once the funeral is over and your kid graduates and goes to college, what will you do with yourself? Make a smart decision.
Elias had resigned his commission the next day.
Two months later, he was in the hospital room, exhausted and bleary-eyed, watching Brenda breathe. They’d cut her open again, trying to remove the tumors. He remembered sixteen-year-old Ryan resting his hand on his shoulder. “Dad, go home. Take a shower, sleep, maybe eat food. You stink, and you look like crap. I’ll stay with mom. I’ll call you if anything happens.”
He went home and crashed. When he woke up the next afternoon, the gates had burst, monsters overran the city, and the two people he loved most in the world were dead. Before the gates, he was a husband and a father. He had a wife. He had a son. Ten days later, all that was left were two urns of ash. He had awakened as a Talent the morning after the funeral.
It hurt still. Time didn’t make it better. Killing shit didn’t make it better. He had only two options: to think about it and hurt or to not think about it and carry on.
And here was Malcolm, who had everything he’d lost. A wife, two children, family…
And a mistress.
And a huge gambling addiction.
And a debt he could never repay.
It made Elias irrationally angry.
He was pissed off at Malcolm for not valuing everything he had, while Elias was sitting here wishing he could rewind time. He was pissed off at himself for missing Malcolm’s addiction, for giving London a second shot, and for putting both of them in charge of a team and getting everyone killed. He was pissed off at whoever made the breaches. He was just fucking pissed off.
He saw Leo manifest in the doorway. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear that his XO could teleport.
“About that typhoon…” Leo started.
Elias’ fist landed on the desk. It cracked and shattered into a thousand pieces. His tablet and phone clattered to the floor.
Jackson stuck his head out, leaning from behind the doorway with a small smile. “I heard you’re getting the old band back together. Is this a bad time? I can come back.”
Elias swore.
“He put me up to it,” Leo said.
“I did.” Jackson nodded.
Elias just stared at them.
Jackson raised two mugs in his hands. “I brought you some of that swill you call coffee around here. Why don’t you come out of this tiny room and have a drink with me?”
“I’ll get the desk replaced,” Leo said.
Elias sighed and fished his phone and tablet from the wreckage.
They moved into the lounge outside of the office on the second floor, overlooking the library floor below.
Elias gulped his coffee. It did taste like swill, but at least it wasn’t cold. “How did you get here so fast?”
“Called in a favor,” Jackson said. “I didn’t have a choice about the departing flight. They escorted me all the way to my seat. Got off the plane in Hong Kong, got onto another plane instead of cooling my heels, flew around the storm, and here I am.”
Elias quietly exhaled.
The healer sipped his coffee and grimaced. “Foul.”
“It’s hot.”
“Well, there is that,” Jackson agreed.
He was a lean man, not just thin, but slight, short, and pale, with thoughtful eyes and light brown hair cropped close to his head. Easy to overlook. Easy to dismiss.