Page 53 of Faron (The Golden Team #8)

Blue

S omething wasn’t right.

It had been four days since Faron left for Afghanistan. Four days without a message. No check-in. No update. Nothing.

I’d tried to stay calm. Rational. Told myself it was probably just bad reception or a blackout op. But my gut—my soldier’s gut —knew better.

Tag had been lingering close, trying to distract me, cooking breakfast with Bear underfoot like some kind of therapy dog. But even he kept glancing at the door like he expected Faron to walk through it at any second.

He didn’t.

I sat at my desk in the back of the clinic, flipping through patient files I couldn’t focus on. My hands trembled as I typed an email to River, deleted it, then typed it again. He hadn’t contacted me either. And that meant they were keeping something from me.

I shoved the laptop aside and stood. “Tag!” I yelled down the hallway.

He appeared in the doorway within seconds, chewing on a piece of toast. “Yeah?”

“Something’s wrong.”

“I know.”

That surprised me. “What do you mean, you know ?”

“I mean I haven’t heard from River or Cyclone in four days either. And Faron—who always sends one-word texts just to mess with me—hasn’t said a thing.”

“So you knew and didn’t say anything?”

“I didn’t want to panic you.”

I glared at him. “Too late.”

He blew out a breath and rubbed the back of his neck. “Look, I didn’t want to say anything until I knew more. But yeah. It’s off. Real off. Like… maybe even hostage-off.”

I sat down hard. “No. Not Faron.”

“He’s tough as hell, Blue. You know that.”

“I also know he didn’t want me there because it was too dangerous. And now he’s gone silent, and my gut is screaming at me to do something.”

“You’re not going,” Tag said quickly.

“I wasn’t asking permission.”

He crossed his arms. “And what? You’re just going to fly into a war zone alone?”

“No. I’m going to talk to Emery and see if she’s heard anything. I’ll get my ducks in a row first.”

Tag opened his mouth to argue, then closed it again. “You’re serious.”

“You’re damn right I am. Faron’s out there. And if he’s hurt—or taken—I won’t sit here and wait for bad news.”

He gave me a long look. “Then I’m coming with you.”

I didn’t smile, but I felt the weight in my chest shift.

“Good,” I said. “Because I’m done waiting.”