Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 69772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
She’s gone.
Two words that had the power to change my life.
SHAYNE
9 weeks later
My stomach dropped out from under me at the sight.
Quinn looked good.
Pissed off, but really, really good.
“Tell me you didn’t.”
I frowned. “Tell you I didn’t what?”
“Tell me you didn’t join the Army,” he growled.
He had to know exactly what I’d done seeing as he was in Missouri, where he most certainly didn’t live.
My brows raised. “And what business is it of yours, Quinn Carter?”
“What business is it of mine?” His voice got quieter, which was so much more intimidating than him yelling.
“Yes,” I said, stiffening my spine. “What is it of yours?”
“You are mine, Shayne.”
I scoffed. “If I was yours, why did I see you out on a date before I left?”
He snapped his mouth shut, then opened it just as fast. “It was a friend thing.”
“It looked friendly all right,” I rolled my eyes and started to push past him, heading to my car. “If you’ll excuse me, this box is heavy.”
It wasn’t, but he didn’t need to know that.
“Anyway, did you care about me at all? Or what about your safety? Do you care that you getting hurt would break me?” he snapped at my back.
I froze, then turned to look at him.
“Do I care about you at all?” I laughed. “No. I don’t think I do. You were able to end us so easily, without a single ounce of discussion about your choice, and you expect something different from me? At least I was in the right, here. I have no boyfriend. I don’t need to share my life with strangers and people I once knew. So no, I don’t care about you anymore, Quinn. You saw to that.”
Two days later, I was on a bus heading to Fort Leonard Wood in Missouri, fresh out of bootcamp, with an anger burning deep inside of me that would continue to overwhelm me for a long time to come.
And everything about Dallas and Quinn Carter was in my rearview mirror.
If I was a bird, I’d fly into a ceiling fan.
—Shayne to Quinn
SHAYNE
2 and a half years later
The knowledge that he was now an officer in the Marines was what changed my career path.
The old saying, “Anything you can do (I can do better)” stuck with me over the years.
But he would not be better than me.
I would make sure that I was his equal.
Which was why I went the Army warrant officer route, and decided to fly.
Rotary wing aviator warrant officer.
That was the official title.
It took a long time to accomplish it.
I had to pass a lot of tests. Complete WOCS—warrant officer candidate school. WOFT—warrant officer flight training—came next. SERE—survival evasion resistance escape was after. And finally, secret security clearance.
It was a very long, drawn out process, but in the end, I’d made the jump.
And. I. Loved. It.
I had no clue that my love of flight would help fix a hole in my heart the size of Quinn.
And though I still thought about him often, I now had a second love of my life.
It was on my first night back after a six-month stint in Afghanistan that I saw him.
The odds of us meeting in the middle of a backwater bar in remote New Jersey were few and far between.
It was apparent that he was working, or here in an official capacity.
He was dressed in his Marine Corps dress blues, speaking with another man beside him, when he finally noticed me across the bar.
I turned away the moment his eyes met mine, my heart thundering.
It’d been two and a half years, and it felt like not a day had passed since we’d last seen each other.
Every single emotion I felt toward him was just as sharp and uncomfortable as the day he broke my heart.
Why did it hurt so much?
Why did it continue to feel like he’d sent my heart through a shredder before handing it back to me?
Also, why the fuck was I still here?
I had no reason to be.
I was meeting no one here tonight.
I was officially on leave for three weeks.
And since he was here in New Jersey, there was no reason I couldn’t go home and see my brother, Nonna, and Ande…
“’Scuse me,” I heard said. “Would you care for another drink?”
I looked up at the man who’d approached and barely contained my grimace.
There was nothing wrong with him physically. He was cute.
But he had the same body type as Quinn. The same hair color. The same eye color.
The only thing different was that his face was less angular. More round.
Why did he look so similar?
Because he was Quincy, Quinn’s triplet.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, taking in his attire.
“I’m here because my brother just finished some schooling where he was recognized for outstanding performance. Quaid’s here, too,” he answered.
Just as Quincy said that, Quaid appeared on my other side, then took a seat next to me.