“Fuck off.” I glare at both of them, happy for a mood shift. “I’ve been busy.” I inhale deeply and grimace. “And I showered this morning before the hospital.”
After that, I passed the hell out.
I’d be lying if I said the drives back and forth to Rydell every day weren’t getting to me. But every time I feel sorry for myself, I think of how much Aurora has lost, and the fact that she spends most of her days alone in a hospital room. Sobers me every time.
“Busy spiraling,” Wilder says, deadpan.
I flip him off and take another long sip of water, which does absolutely nothing for my sanity.
“How many more weeks do you have to pull this off?” Griffin asks, flicking through his phone. “Three?”
I jerk a nod and run my fingers through my beard. “Bit less than now.”
“And you have to move, right? You said the judge ordered it?”
“Yeah, I need a new place. I’ve been looking and can’t find a damn thing.” I must have contacted fifty prospects—apartments, rentals, fuck, I even called a realtor about buying, but it would take a hell of a longer than three weeks. “It doesn’t help that part of the judge’s orders were that I have to stay in Summit County.”
Summit County’s big, but a lot of it’s rural. It only covers Wildwood, Heart Springs, Langley—a bigger town about fifteen miles south—and Serenity Falls, way out past the lake. The rest is all unincorporated land.
Anxiety creeps in as my mind spirals.
“I’m also ready to put in my notice with Iron Shield. I’ve got plenty to live off, but I’m not sure a new landlord would take me, freshly unemployed and all.”
“Do it,” Griff says, surprising me.
“The fuck?” Wilder runs a hand through his hair and tugs. “Look, I know we hate working for King Asshole, but we already live in three different states.” He pouts. “If we don’t work together, we’ll never talk.”
“That’s sweet and all…” I start, lip twitching. “But I don’t think I have a choice, man. And I can’t exactly move anywhere else.”
“I know,” he grumbles. “But—”
“But we can,” Griff cuts in.
Wilder’s head snaps toward him, and my eyes go wide.
Griff just shrugs one thick, tattooed shoulder. “What? Neither of us are exactly tied down,” he says, gesturing between himself and Wilder.
I tilt my head, taking his measure. Griffin—thirty-eight, freshly single—is Tennessee through and through. He loves being close to his siblings, but they’re all married now, busy raising kids of their own. And from what he shared on the drive over, his mama met some guy last year and spends most of her time traveling.
Other than Iron Shield, he doesn’t have much holding him there.
The idea of my two best friends living near me, especially with the big-ass life changes I’m facing, is...
My breath rushes out, and this time when I smile, I mean it. “Think you’d both like it here. Boring as hell, not much for jobs with the economy the way it is, but... it’s nice.”
Griff bobs his head, eyes distant like he’s really thinking it through.
“Anything’s better than where I’m at now,” he says, flicking a look at Wilder. “And I’d bet the same goes for you too, Reed.”
Wilder’s jaw ticks, and he looks away, staring off into nothing.
He’s the youngest of the three of us—only twenty-five. Grew up in Southern California, in a rough neighborhood. The secondhe turned eighteen, he bolted, getting out from under an alcoholic dad. He ran as far and fast as he could and wound up in a desert halfway across the world, stationed on base with us.
A year later, we were in a Ranger squad with Griff as our sergeant.
The accident that sent the three of us home also killed the fourth member of our squad, Rubin Drake. He was a damn good Ranger, an even better man. But out of all of us, he was the closest to Wilder.
The fifth member, Billy West, was the new guy—he’d only been with us a month before the IED hit. Rubin didn’t make it, and the rest of us were done for, medically or otherwise. Billy was the only one who walked away unscathed. Last I heard, he made sergeant himself.
