Page 141 of Facing Off
That’s always beenmyrole, asking all that. So I don’t have an answer. I have to think about it, but in the meantime, I realize there’s more I should share.
How I went to the memorial today.
Sonya interlaces her fingers with mine. She’s stroking the divot between my thumb and finger so softly. Calming touches.
I swallow, brace myself and tell them. It takes a while. Almost two hours of talking back and forth. Answering questions, taking breaks, and then speaking some more. There are starts and stops.
By the end, everyone is crowded around me. “Thank you for opening up,” my mom says sniffling into my shoulder. “We didn’t know. Now we do.”
There’s a flurry of hugs waiting for me. Beyond the crowd of my sisters and nibling huddling around me, Sonya waits, tipping her head at me.
My heart squeezes.
To have you feel like you belong here, I would do absolutely anything.
Good job, she mouths.
Please want this, I want to mouth back.
But I don’t. Part of the reason why is fear. I can’t risk what we have right now, jinxing the fragile connection growing between us, but also her audition is coming up. I’d never do anything to distract from her dreams.
So I smile and cheekily mouthgood jobback at her, when I really meanI’m completely yours.
Her eyes roll beautifully.
And then while I’m thinking of more secret messages to send, loud voices crash the dinner.
The Wings have arrived.
55
ADRIAN
My team spreadsacross the lawn like pirates boarding a ship, except way more polite.
“Sorry for intruding, Mrs. Hughes,” they apologize to my mom, one by one.
“Thanks for confirming he was here,” says Macklin. “We kind of figured but wanted to be sure.”
She waves their concerns with her hand. “There’s enough food for everyone. You boys are always welcome!”
Unlike her, I’m panicking. There’s a good chunk of the team here. Over ten men in my mom’s backyard, greeting my sisters animatedly.
What’s going on?
Quinn steps forward and spots Sonya standing behind me—and his eyes widen before he recovers smoothly and whistles. “Everyone get into position. We practiced this.”
The Wings stop chatting with my family and come together. They spread in a semicircle around me and go down to one knee, even Lokhov with his old injury. It’s the same formation as our pregame huddles.
Gawking at them, I follow their lead, kneeling in frontof them on the grass. “Seriously, someone tell me what’s going on. I’m ten seconds from freaking out.”
“This is an intervention,” Quinn announces. “Because we’ve been noticing how much you’re taking on.”
Automatically, I open my mouth to deny it when Jung raises his hand. “Sorry, I confirmed how much you’ve been training some of us personally. Putting your everything into it.”
“And I confronted Forrester,” Lokhov adds as if it’s no big deal. “He told us about the GM’s threats.”
Adrenaline and dread shoot through me as my knee digs deeper into the dirt. They all know? I can’t believe it.Now what?
