Page 221 of Wild Card
“I’ll give you five hundred dollars! I’m not fighting anyone, especially in this dress.”
Willow glares at me in terror, her eyes pleading with me to help.
I shake my head, throwing her words back to her. “Your first time as a bridesmaid, you should get all the traditional experiences.”
She scowls, opening her mouth, but they drag her away, leaving me to follow.
I circle the room, stopping at the bar. My dad joins me, giving me a once-over with a smirk. “You get lost?”
“Lost?”
“Been gone for a while. Figured you got lost somewhere.”
“Yeah, it’s a big place. Got turned around a few times.”
He chuckles. “Stick with that story when you see your mom. She’s been on the hunt for you and Willow.”
“Got it.” I take a sip and grin into my glass at the scene on the edge of the dance floor.
Addie and Carson aren’t letting up, with Willow visibly arguing and trying to pull Bex in as a shield.
“Anything you want to share with me?”
I glance over and my instincts perk at the change in his expression. He’s not probing into my disappearing act or the fact I stole Willow away for sex. He’s all business.
“Want to be more specific?”
“Jim, Pete, Doug, Rich, and I have been talking.”
I realize all the dads are gathered close. “Talking about what?”
“We know something is up.”
“Something is always up.”
“You want to play coy? Been down this road more than a few times over the years, not to mention my own time in the ranks.” Jim, Major’s dad, eyes me sharply. “Max Roberts is missing.”
“He is.” I give the room a once-over passively.
Major and Ace are with our buddies from MARSOC watching the show on the dance floor as Willow continues to protest. Harley and Jewls now flank her to keep her from running.
“The signs aren’t hard to miss, Talon. Tell me you men aren’t wading into whatever this is.”
The concern in my dad’s tone is distinctive. Worry etched on his features matches the other men.
Guilt claws at my insides, knowing the shit we’ve put our families through with our careers. The years of sleepless nights during our deployments, the fear every time the phone rang or doorbell chimed, the dads taking the brunt of the moms’ breakdowns.
I throw back the rest of my bourbon, making a decision.
“I can’t tell you what I don’t know.”
Dad’s eyes narrow and the others shift.
“Tomorrow, we’ll talk. Tonight is a celebration for Ford. Nothing is fucking that up.”
They all look like they want to argue, then nod their agreement.
A loud cheer goes up as Declan and Blake jump on the stage. They grab guitars and start the chords of a familiar tune… Is that Beyoncè?
