Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 39250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 196(@200wpm)___ 157(@250wpm)___ 131(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 196(@200wpm)___ 157(@250wpm)___ 131(@300wpm)
Germany had been the best transfer. Not because I’d been able to take a shower and put on brand-new clothes, but because I’d finally talked to Dad.
“Where are we?” I forced myself to straighten up, and I glanced out the window. “It feels like it should be dark outside.”
“It’s almost four PM,” he replied. “We’re closing in on Boston.”
Jesus. We were landing soon.
Holy crap! I’d see Dad in less than two hours.
My stomach fluttered with nerves, and a big smile lit up my face. After all these months… I couldn’t find the words to describe the rush of feelings. I could let go of the fear and the worries. I mean, I had, in a sense since James had rescued me, but this was so different. We were officially in US airspace.
The food that came around was more like a snack, but I was here for it. The small container included some cheese and crackers, some frilly garnishes, a piece of bread, and a chocolate truffle. I’d gorged on chocolate in Germany, so I placed the truffle on James’s side.
He smirked to himself, then held up a sprig of some herb. “What the fuck is the point of these? And while we’re at it, why do airlines serve the weirdest fucking food? Give me a steak and some potatoes. You don’t have to name it somethin’ fancy. No need to add some weird gel or fermented bullshit or mix berries with my gravy. Keep shit simple.”
I laughed and popped a cube of cheese into my mouth. “You and Dad are really gonna get along.”
He scowled a little and picked more garnish off his crackers. “I’m not sure I like being compared to your old man. Freud would have a field day with that shit.”
He was too cute sometimes.
“Well, you’re roughly the same age… I mean, you’re a little older—”
His swift look of horror and shock cracked me up!
“I’m kidding!” I laughed. I patted his arm and kissed his shoulder. “I’m kidding. He’s way older. He’s almost sixty.”
“Oh God,” he muttered. “That’s not way older.”
Yeah, true.
I snickered to myself and went for the orange cheese cube. Might that be cheddar? Who knew. They tasted much the same to me—and I loved cheese. Cheese you got from a real store.
“Anyway,” he said, clearing his throat. “Are you prepared for what’s next? It’s gonna be more than hugging your dad.”
I was as ready as I could be, I supposed. I mean, I knew there’d been a case opened to bring me home, but with the way our diplomatic relations had imploded in Afghanistan—and the fact that nobody had known where I was—everything had been at a standstill. And now…after I’d been saved by a private military contractor, the FBI and the State Department suddenly demanded to file all kinds of reports. In short, I’d be escorted from the airport—with Dad—to, I assumed, the FBI. To answer questions and whatnot.
“According to Dad, we’ve been promised it shouldn’t take long—this initial meeting anyway,” I replied. “I can give them an hour, I guess. Then I will riot.”
He smiled a little. “Give ’em hell. And then you’ll go to the hotel?”
I nodded. “Where I will call you and ask very sweetly if you’d like to come over for room-service pizza.”
He chuckled and gave my leg a squeeze. “I wouldn’t mind that one bit, but you should have some alone time with him.”
I sighed, knowing he had a point. Even more so because I had plans. Plans to tell Dad that I would be looking for my next job in the DC area.
I did have friends there. One of my closest friends, actually—we’d gone to nursing school together. I should give Ivy a call soon.
It would do me good to have a fresh start too.
I hadn’t told James about that yet.
James was on the phone from the moment we stepped off the plane.
Operator Wilde walked by briskly, and we exchanged polite smiles. She was the only one who’d flown back to the US with us. Operator Stevens and Operator Kelley had remained in Turkey.
By the time we got to baggage claim, Wilde was nowhere to be seen.
“I’m just gonna go check out my firearm. Go have a seat.” James pressed a kiss to my temple before walking off to what I assumed was the baggage office. “Yes, sir. I’ll hold,” he said to whoever was on the phone.
Okay, then.
I clasped my hands in front of me and glanced around. People didn’t bother me. That was one thing James had warned me about, coming home after experiencing something traumatic. How crowds and too many impressions could easily overwhelm someone. But so far, so good. Maybe it would come later. Right now, I was hopped up on adrenaline and the excitement of seeing Dad again. We were almost there. Almost, almost.