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Authors: Jennifer Lane

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BOOK: Streamline
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Both Leo and the assistant principal stood, and his father shook Mr. Morrison’s hand. He didn’t even look at Leo. “Wait outside while I talk to Mr. Morrison,” he said.

“Yes, sir.”

After a few minutes, his father stormed out. Leo could barely keep up with his brisk pace to the car, and they didn’t exchange one word on the way home. He was utterly panicked about how his father would respond. His only glimpse of his eyes revealed violet, an unsettling sight.

When they walked in the front door, his father took hold of Leo’s arm and shoved him into the study. His mother called down from her bedroom. “Is everything all right?”

“Go back to sleep, Mary!” Leo’s father ordered. He shut the door and sidled up to his son. “I can’t believe you embarrassed me like that.

Having to pick you up at school for getting in a fight? Jason was no saint, but I
never
had to do that with him. Start talking, young man.” Leo felt strangled by fear. His father paced behind him, and he had no idea when or from where he’d pounce. “I screwed up, sir. I — I acted impulsively, and it was wrong.”

“What’d that Ryan kid say to you?”

“I should’ve known better than to hit him, sir.”

“Damn straight, you should know better. What’d he say?” 

Leo hated how his father hissed in his ear. “He insulted Audrey, sir.”

“This wasn’t even about
our
family?”

“Yes, sir. I mean, no, sir — ”

His father circled around, and Leo saw his eyes, flashing with fury, before he found himself doubled over from a slashing undercut to his abdomen.

The beating was swift and sharp. It left Leo dazed on the floor, bleeding from the lip and moaning. His head pounded with each beat of his heart. As he watched his father stalk away in disgust, Leo realized the irony of his dad teaching him not to be violent by beating the crap out of him.

The pain. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t sleep, and it hurt to breathe. That afternoon Leo had first taken Oxycontin.

10. CS

Leo arched his eyebrow, feeling Audrey’s slender body beneath her thin coat as they hugged. “Is this really the only jacket you’re bringing?”

They stood on the curb at the Pensacola Airport on a Friday evening. Audrey was about to depart for her second recruiting trip.

This time to Northwestern University.

“It’s the only coat I own,” Audrey said. “Do you think it’ll be cold?”

“Yes. CS took me to the Great Lakes Naval Base up there once, and it was bitter.”

“Who’s CS?”

Leo looked at her incredulously. “I’ve never told you the little nickname my brother and I came up with for Dad?” Audrey shook her head.

Leo grinned. “It depends on who’s listening. If my dad’s within earshot, it stands for Commander Scott. Jason came up with it right after he moved up in rank. If my dad’s nowhere around…” He scanned the departing flights area. “Then it stands for Cruel Son of a bitch.”

Audrey smiled, but her eyes were sad.

“It was really cold in Chicago, and that was November, not January. Hold on a sec.” Leo ducked into the back seat of his car and came out with a tattered Pensacola Panthers sweatshirt. “Why don’t you take at least one more layer with you?” Audrey smirked. “Thanks, Dad.”

Leo realized her
father
should be the one to drop her off at the airport.

She pouted. “I wish you could go with me. It sucks it’s the second weekend in a row we’ll be apart.”

“You know my father won’t let me go on recruiting trips in season,” Leo said softly, looking down. “Especially the way I’ve been swimming.”

“Well, you’re not missing much. I loved Florida State last weekend, but I’d rather catch up on sleep than travel again.” She glanced at her watch. “I better get going.”

She stepped closer, looking up at him. He gently leaned forward, and their lips met for a lingering kiss. Audrey clung to him for a final hug.

“You’re trembling,” she said.

Leo heard worry in her voice and immediately pulled away. “I am? That’s weird. Maybe I’m cold or something.” Audrey placed a hand on his forearm. “Leo? Anything you want to tell me? You really haven’t been yourself since, wel , since our senior year began, I guess. Is everything okay?” He held his breath. He wanted to tell her. He really did. “I’m fine. Six fifteen on Sunday night, right? I’ll be here to pick you up.” Her frown lingered. As she walked toward the entrance he called, “Good luck with the Wildcats! I’m sure they’ll love you up there.” 

On the flight north, Audrey tried to study for her upcoming calculus exam, but her mind kept wandering to Leo. She stroked his sweatshirt in her lap and brought it to her face. It smelled like him — a combination of chlorine, soap, and musk. His eyes had looked so sad when they kissed goodbye.

When had he begun acting so strangely? It seemed to start with that suspension from school — when Audrey hadn’t seen him for an entire week. And now his declining swimming performance, the shouting matches with Matt…

Audrey sighed. She also wondered why Leo hated his father so much. CS sounded very strict, but lots of parents were strict. At least he still had his dad in his life.

A lot of thinking and only a little calculus later, Audrey found herself smiling at the Northwestern coach in the terminal at O’Hare Airport.

“Welcome, Audrey,” he said.

“Good to meet you, sir.”

He blanched. “We’re pretty informal here. I forgot for a second you’re from a military family.”

Audrey looked down, embarrassed. Though she hadn’t told any college coaches about her father’s situation, she was sure most of them knew, and she dreaded the awkwardness. Their curious glances, their hesitation about whether to mention it, their sympathetic stares — Audrey hated all of it.

“So.” She coerced a faint smile. “How long’s the drive to campus?”
 

The next night Audrey reluctantly accompanied a swimmer to a fraternity party across the quad. She’d had to sign a contract not to use alcohol or other drugs as a Pensacola student-athlete, and she was nervous she’d be pressured at the party.

Once they entered the dimly lit mansion, Audrey followed her host over to a group of swimmers. She wished Leo was by her side.

“Audrey!” yelled a tall senior with black hair. “Let’s get you some beer, girl!” She disappeared into the crowd. A few minutes later, she thrust a plastic cup into Audrey’s hands. Audrey glanced at the swimmers. They were laughing about something, not really paying attention to her. She could probably dump the beer and nobody would be any wiser.

She’d been on edge all weekend, not knowing when somebody might ask about her dad and frustrated she couldn’t communicate with Leo. CS didn’t allow him to have a cell phone. Deciding to try a sip, she cringed from the bitter taste. But forcing down the rest of the beer helped her to loosen up a little.

After three more cups, she’d joined in the laughter. Why hadn’t she done this before? This party was a blast, and the college swimmers were
so
nice. When a cute guy passed around a bottle of tequila, Audrey shrugged and took a big swig, barely noticing the burn in her throat.

She loved feeling so carefree — testing limits and not being so darn worried about everything. When an irresistible song coaxed the swimmers off the couch and on to the dance floor, Audrey joined them, throwing her head back and swaying her body to the pulsating beat.

A thousand miles south, Leo wasn’t feeling so high. He sat on his bed, alone on a Saturday night, hugging his knees to his chest.

Despite his previous declaration that being grounded was for losers, CS had kept Leo at home because of his meet performance.

Leo had tried to last all day without Oxy, which had left him shaking and nauseated by the afternoon, and he now felt lonely and desperate. He’d finally given in and popped a pill — his last one — a few seconds ago.

But Oxy didn’t even make him feel good anymore. It had taken over his life. A tear slid down Leo’s cheek, and he angrily wiped it away. He missed simpler times, he missed Jason, and most of all, he missed Audrey.

11 . Betrayal

James stood in the doorway of his superior’s office and adopted a deep, mysterious voice. “You called?” Captain Russell Payson smiled as he rose from his desk. James immediately noticed the man’s protruding belly — it strained the lower buttons of his uniform tunic. Had age or the stress of the job grayed the captain’s hair?

“Have a seat, James.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Coffee?”

“That’d be great.”

Nanoseconds later a young woman entered carrying two steaming cups. James followed her every move, and she seemed more than a little uncomfortable as she stood at attention next to the captain’s desk.

“Thank you, Petty Officer. That is all.”

“Aye, sir.” She completed a smart about face and exited.

James smiled. “I don’t believe I’ve met Petty Officer…?”

“Richards. She just started, and she’s been a pleasure to have in the office.”

“I’m sure she
is
a pleasure, Captain. And she’s lucky to have you as a mentor. It makes our jobs easier to be so visually stimulated.”

Payson appeared taken aback, and James hoped his superior hadn’t heard about his extracurricular dalliances. But he wasn’t too worried. His work performance would no doubt wash away any questions the captain might have about him.

Payson finally spoke. “Well, Petty Officer Richards isn’t quite as beautiful as Lt. Keaton,
your
former assistant.” James stopped breathing for a second, but recovered quickly.

“Yes, sir, I hear Darnell’s doing well as an instructor at the Academy.”

“You know, James, I’m quite impressed by how you’ve managed to run your division so wel despite losing key personnel. To have Denny Rose and Bill Walsh gone in one fell swoop? And then Darnell requesting immediate reassignment? Those are devastating blows.”

“Although they’re big losses, we have excellent people in Air Department V-Four, sir.”

“And you’re an excellent leader, James. Do you realize your division reached a ninety-nine percent safety rating in the last quarter?

Your numbers keep up like that, and you’ll be XO before we know it.” James basked in the praise.

“While I enjoy celebrating your success, Commander, your next assignment’s the reason I asked you here. Air Department in Miramar needs some help, and I’m ordering you and Roland to provide it. You’re leaving in three days.”

James immediately thought of Leo’s invitational swim meet, but the military wouldn’t rearrange their needs to meet his. “Yes, sir.” Captain Payson rose, and James followed, then shook his hand.

“I’m sure you’ll make us proud out there, James.”

“Thank you, sir. Good day.”

Once the door closed behind him, James muttered under his breath. He returned scads of salutes from inferiors passing him on the base, but barely registered their faces. He didn’t like Roland Drake one bit and dreaded their trip together. The fact that he’d been promoted to Lt. Commander Drake immediately after Bill Walsh’s murder wasn’t lost on James. It seemed a little too convenient.

Back at his office, he sat down in front of his email and began putting out fires. Apparently the new flight deck supervision schedule left a gap in crew coverage. James shook his head. How did these idiots keep their jobs? He quickly created an alternate schedule and sent it along.

BOOK: Streamline
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