Page 152 of Distress Signal
“PTSD is a bitch,” West agreed.
“I have panic attacks too, you know,” Owen murmured.
“Great,” I muttered. “So we’re all fucked in the head.”
“Mental health struggles are perfectly normal and nothing to be ashamed of,” Owen said diplomatically.
“You sound like a shrink.”
“He definitely sounds like my old therapist,” I agreed with West.
During our time in the service, I’d heard too many horror stories of guys who let their internal issues—the shit they’d seen in war—eat them alive when they left active duty and returned home. Neither West nor I wanted to be another statistic. I worked incredibly hard that first year to confront and banish my demons. Since then, I’d been doing well.
But Reagan going missing? It brought all of that old shit, that same helplessness I’d experienced when some guys had been taken as prisoners of war.
No. I shook that thought off. I hadn’t been helpless then, and I sure as fuck wasn’t now.
But sitting here on my fucking hands wasnothelping matters.
I leapt to my feet and stalked to the other side of the house, where Trey’s command center was, and burst through the door.
“Anything yet?”
“We’re working on it,” Lane replied. Trey’s focus remained on the screens in front of him.
“Well work faster!” I shouted. “My girl is out there somewhere!”
I wanted to shake them both, to demand Trey’s stupid little fingers worked quicker, but an arm hooked around my shoulders and dragged me backward, out of the room.
When I faced him, Owen was chuckling and shaking his head.
“Nothing about this is funny.”
He held his hands up in surrender. “It’s not that.” He nodded toward Trey and Lane. “Dad always said when one of us went down, the rest of us would fall like dominoes.”
I frowned. “The fuck are you talking about?”
“You’re down so bad, brother.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “Trust me, I know the feeling. And it’s the scariest goddamn thing in the world. If I was in your shoes, and Delia was out there somewhere, I’d be tearing the fucking world apart.”
All I could do was stare at him blankly. “What’s scary?” I asked dumbly.
“Being in love. Youdolove Reagan, right?”
“More than anything,” I agreed, throat clogging with emotion.
Fuck, I didn’t know what I’d do if we didn’t find her in time, if this sick fuck harmed her and Lainey in ways they couldn’t come back from.
“They’ll find her,” Owen said, gesturing to the war room. “It’s what they do. Whatyoudo.”
Owen was nothing if not a master of the pep talk, and his reminder thatallof my brothers except him had trained for situations exactly like this put me a bit more at ease.
I knew Trey was working as quickly as he could, but standing around like a dumbass waiting for that big break was slowly sapping the remaining vestiges of my sanity.
I had to dosomething.
“West.”
“Yeah?”
