Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 86556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
“Nope.” Wes thought fast. “Just someone I met at a club.”
“Huh.” Curly didn’t look convinced. “Well, I guess I’ll let you to it. My girl’s place is over there.” He pointed in the same unfortunate direction as Dustin’s building.
“Ah. I’m um...over here.” Wes looked at the complex next to them. “Y’all take care now.”
He walked away rapidly, going up the stairs to the upper units, out of the sight line of Curly, hopefully. He waited a good ten minutes before leaving, heading back to his Jeep.
Can’t make it, he typed on his phone. Something came up. Sorry.
No way could he risk it now. He was not going to be the reason Dustin’s career went down, and he’d do whatever it took to make sure Dustin stayed safe, even if it meant sacrificing their night together. One last time. Yeah, that wasn’t happening now. He punched the seat next to him. No memories. No tender goodbyes. Only the bitter tang of guilt and remorse. He’d put Dustin at risk, and he had to be prepared to do the right thing, as much as it felt like he was coming unglued. His phone vibrated with a return message, but sinuses burning, he turned it off.
Chapter Nineteen
The LT demanded Dustin’s presence first thing Tuesday morning, so Dustin made his way to base, even though he’d rather have been anywhere else. It had been a shit few days, starting with Wes canceling on him with no warning, then going dark and ghosting him. Dustin was alternatively worried that something had happened with Wes’s sister and pissed that he was shutting him out. Nothing had worked to get Wes out of his head—not a spin out on the boat, not an impromptu visit to Apollo and Dylan, nothing. The visit had only made things worse, underscored what he’d never have in his own life.
The early morning air nipped at his arms and neck as he hurried across base to their office. He was cutting it close for time, which was something he never used to do. Fuck Wes and all the distractions that accompanied this...whatever it was that they’d had going.
He rushed past the office support personnel, heading right for the LT’s office. Which was more than a little crowded already, what with the senior chief there, and...oh fuck, Wes. Wes plus senior chief plus LT could not mean good things for Dustin at all. But he swallowed down his panic at Wes’s presence and managed to do little more than glance at him as he made the usual greetings and apologies for being the last to arrive. Or at least he hoped he was the last to arrive—all this situation needed was someone from Personnel to make the bile in his throat burn even worse than it already was.
“I’ll get right to it,” the LT said, eyes boring into Dustin. “There’s been a...concern, I guess you could say.”
“A concern?” Dustin repeated. The LT was being unusually guarded—he usually missed no opportunity to knock heads together or complain. That frisson of dread in Dustin’s insides grew, making it hard to not look at Wes, look away, look anywhere but at the LT’s unreadable face.
“A concern. And I’m just going to ask this once, and I want a straight answer. Is there anything going on between you and Lowe that I should know about?”
Dustin gulped. He honestly wasn’t sure he could speak without puking. He’d worried about this moment for weeks and weeks, had nightmares about this question, and still didn’t know what his reply would be.
“No, sir.” Wes spoke first, quiet and decisive, voice as firm as Dustin had ever heard it. “There’s nothing going on.”
“That so?” The LT looked at Dustin, eyes narrow and hard, as if he could sense Dustin’s quaking knees and nauseated stomach.
Dustin couldn’t afford to hesitate now—if this was how Wes wanted to handle it, he had to follow suit. “He’s one of our men. That’s all.” Dustin made the words come out level, which was no small feat.
“You friends?” The LT wasn’t letting this drop.
“No, sir.” Wes spoke first again. “Lieutenant Strauss was nice to me when my sister was sick. Said a few words to me, but I wouldn’t call us friends.”
Oh, that was a good touch and totally believable. Dustin nodded. “I was concerned, same as I’d be for any of our guys.”
“You’ve always put the welfare of the team first,” the senior chief added, a welcome strong voice of support. “I’ve got no doubts you and Lowe are telling the truth.”
Oh, you have no idea. Dustin nodded. “Can I ask what brought this on?”
“You cannot,” the LT said. “It’s a confidential concern, but one I’m content to let drop. For the time being. But if the person concerned brings it up with Personnel as a formal complaint, we’ll have to let them investigate—I doubt they’ll simply take your word for it like the senior chief and I.” There was a warning there, loud and clear. This wasn’t done, not by a long shot.