Page 71 of The Wild Card
“Dinner!” Linda calls from the kitchen, and I’ve never been more grateful for food in my entire life.
* * *
The dining table is chaos.
Platters are passed back and forth. Everyone is talking at once. Linda piles food on my plate before I can stop her. Gavin watches me like he’s waiting for me to slip up. Robert asks about the Star’s chances this season. Emmie’s hand finds my knee under the table, squeezing once.
I’m drowning. But somehow, it doesn’t feel like drowning. It feels like… something else. Something I don’t have a word for.
“So, Crew.” Linda settles into her seat, finally done serving everyone else. “Tell us about yourself. Emmie’s been very secretive.”
“There’s not much to tell.”
“He’s being modest again,” Emmie says. “He’s basically a superhero.”
“I’m not—”
“He diffuses bombs. He rescues hostages. He kicks down doors.”
“That’s a very simplified version of—”
“Tell them about the bank thing.”
I shoot her a look. She grins back, completely unrepentant.
“What bank thing?” Linda leans forward.
I sigh. “It was a hostage situation a few years ago. Guy with a gun, three hostages, standard negotiation wasn’t working.”
“So what happened?”
“We breached. Neutralized the threat.” I shrug. “Everyone went home.”
The table falls silent. Gavin leans forward, looking perplexed.
“You make it sound so simple,” Robert says.
“It wasn’t. But that’s the job.”
“He got shot,” Emmie adds.
“Emmie.”
“What? You did. He has a scar and everything. Very rugged.”
Linda’s hand goes to her chest. “You got shot?”
“It was a graze. Barely counts.”
“Show them,” Emmie says.
“I’m not showing them.”
“He won’t show anyone. I’ve only seen it once, and that was by accident.”
Gavin is watching me differently now—less hostile, more… assessing. It’s as if he’s recalculating something.
“What about the car chase?” Emmie prompts. “Tell them about the car chase.”
