The Art of Dying (Crash and Burn Book 3) by Jamie McGuire

Author:Jamie McGuire [McGuire, Jamie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Jamie McGuire
Published: 2023-07-17T18:30:00+00:00

chapter seventeen.

Mack

“Naomi said this would happen,” I said, pacing.

“Mack,” Kitsch began, “don’t get yourself worked up, honey. He’s miles away by now.”

“Naomi said that, too,” I said. “How? How did he escape military custody on a freakin’ military base? You know what that tells me? That Russian mob, or mafia, or military… whatever group he’s mixed up with are more than just dangerous, Kitsch. How do we stop people like that? How will we ever be safe?”

He cupped my shoulders. “He disappeared from the back of a government vehicle mid-transport. That’s a pretty obvious moment to liberate a prisoner. They underestimated them, but they’ll fix it.”

“A transport that was being escorted by MPs… while in handcuffs. Mason has to have a contact somewhere here on base. More than one. At my hospital, maybe even high-ranking officers.”

“Be careful, baby,” Kitsch warned.

“He’s not going to stop.”

He hugged me. “I’m not dismissing your feelings. You’re right to be worried. We’ll just have to be careful. But you’re not alone. We’re not alone. We have the team looking out for us. Hell, we have the whole Marine Corps on alert. You’re safe.”

I shook my head. “None of us are safe, Kitsch. What about you? The kids? Naomi took him hostage; Caroline nearly killed him. They foiled his plan. You think he’s just going to forget that?”

Kitsch held me closer.

“I mean it,” I said. “It’s not okay. It might never be. What are we going to do?”

“We’ll have eyes on you and the kids, and Naomi and Caroline at all times.” He paused. “Especially when we’re gone.”

I stepped back. “Soon?”

An apologetic look weighed down his eyes. “Very.”

“Are you going back? To Sudan?”

He winced. “Don’t ask me questions, baby. We can get in a lot of trouble. You, too.”

“We can’t be in trouble trouble, right? It’s not our fault there’s been a breach. We don’t know how Mason got the intel, we just reported it,” I said.

“JAG is still deciding,” Kitsch said, frowning. “But it looks that way. The letter and that it was sent US Mail gives us plenty of evidence.”

I walked into the kitchen, filling the sink with water and dish soap. Kitsch followed me in, watching me place dishes into the soapy water. Once I finished a pot, he rolled up his sleeves and offered to rinse it. We washed dishes together like we’d done a hundred times before, but this time we didn’t joke or talk about our day. We didn’t discuss bills or family vacations. I scrubbed and he rinsed and dried in silence. Kitsch seemed to be glad to be on autopilot, staring into oblivion like he’d done several times since we’d put the kids to bed.

I looked down and watched Dorito rub his body against my legs. We’d watched her every time Kepner went out of town or deployed, making our place her second home. It made me sad to think she might wonder at some point why Kepner hadn’t come back to get her, but she’d been more vocal since the day Kepner would have died, so part of me thought she already knew.

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