Luca, realizing that I was now well and truly pissed, squeezed my hand with urgency.

I knew he was telling me to get it under control, but that wasn’t happening.

I wasn’t under control even a little bit.

In fact, when Ortiz narrowed his eyes, ready to start in on me when he realized that I wasn’t cowering to his aura of authority, my hands clenched into fists.

“You’re on US Military property, ma’am,” Ortiz snapped. “And although you may think that Tim wasn’t in the wrong, he was.”

Maybe.

Maybe not.

“I don’t really give a flying fuck what you think right now,” I snapped, not believing I’d just let those words come out of my mouth. “I’ve had a really fucked up three days. And if I’m being honest, a really fucked up two years. So yeah, you can just go fuck yourself, okay?”

Tim went absolutely green.

I could see his eyes widen.

Could see the panic in his face.

Then Luca had his hand over my mouth, and he was pulling me solidly into his chest.

But I got a few more words in before he did.

“Do you know what it feels like to have someone come back from the dead?” I asked. “Because I do. I know what it feels like…”

Then I was crying again.

I wasn’t sure what all happened after that because Luca was dragging me away again.

I was throwing up again.

And I was fairly sure Ortiz was still ripping Tim a new asshole.

Or maybe a second new asshole, holding my words against him.

When I finished this time, it was to find Luca smiling.

“What are you laughing about?” I sniffled against his chest.

He had two massive wet spots from where my face had been pressed against his gray t-shirt for my crying jags.

It looked weird, but he still worked it.

I chanced a look over Luca’s shoulder and didn’t find the man that’d been yelling at Tim anywhere in sight.

Tim, however, was talking to a man that was inspecting the helicopter.

“I just yelled at someone really important,” I said to Luca. “My dad’s going to hear about it.”

Luca started to squeeze me.

“Your dad will hear about it?” he asked.

My dad had been a drill instructor before he’d gotten out of the military.

He knew a lot of people, and even though Dad wasn’t in the Navy, I had no doubt in my mind that he’d know about what I’d just done by the end of the day.

It was inevitable. Someone, somewhere, will have known who I was. And will have known who my father was.

Word would spread, and it wouldn’t take long for the right person to hear and to tell my…

My phone rang.

I didn’t even bother to sigh as I looked at the readout.

“It’s my dad.”

I answered without picking my head up from Luca’s chest.

“Hello?” I mumbled.

“Why is it I just heard that you yelled at a fucking senior officer in the Navy, one in which I’m really good buddies with, and you almost got your fucking head chopped off by a helicopter rotor?” My dad’s very annoyed voice filled the line.

I closed my eyes.

Of course, he would be direct friends with the guy.

“I wasn’t in a good state,” I admitted.

“What kind of state could you possibly be in that would give you the thought that it was okay to use that kind of language with a man?” he asked. “Officer or not, military or not, I didn’t raise you to act like that.”

I immediately felt like shit.

He was right, of course.

My bad day didn’t give me the excuse to use that kind of language with anyone.

“I told you,” I said. “I’m not in a good state.”

He growled. “Like I said, what kind of state allows that?”

I suddenly was pissed all fucking over again.

“The kind of fucking state where I yell at goddamn men who yell at men who helped me today, okay?” I snapped.

I immediately regretted it the moment the words left my mouth.

My dad’s silence was quelling.

“Where are you?” he asked.

I looked around at where we were at and had no clue.

“I don’t know,” I admitted truthfully.

And before I could say anything more, Luca was taking the phone from me.

Because I was so freakin’ tired, I didn’t protest.

I also didn’t care what he was saying.

I was just plain exhausted.

I wanted to sleep for about ten hours straight and forget life for a couple of seconds.

Preferably in Luca’s arms while I pretended that everything was okay when it wasn’t.

I was so lost in the rumble of Luca’s chest that I didn’t notice that he was done talking to my dad, and talking to me instead, until he squeezed me tight.

“You’re not listening to me…” he said, sounding amused.

I blinked, focusing on Luca’s arm.

His ravaged arm that had been maimed but still miraculously was whole.

“I’m tired,” I admitted.

“Let’s go then,” he ordered, standing up with me in his arms.

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