Eyes Turned Skyward

by Rebecca Yarros

  “It says, ‘I am the master of my fate. I am the captain of my soul.’”

  Unable to stop myself, and careful not to move my upper body, I touched the black ink, his skin hot under my fingers. “‘Invictus.’”

  He sucked in his breath. “It’s my turn to be impressed.”

  “I’m fixing to be a librarian, remember?” I forced my fingers away. “What language is that?”

  “Tok Pisin. It’s from Papua New Guinea.”

  “What?” I laughed, despite the pain wracking my ribs.

  “Hey, don’t move, or you’re going to have some very different words over here,” Matt threatened.

  “Sorry, Matt,” I said over my shoulder. “So, is English too trendy for you?” I joked at Jagger.

  He looked over my shoulder. “What, Matt, you’re not chiming in?”

  “Nawh, man. My job is to keep the secrets, not to expose yours.”

  His eyes flickered to mine. “They’re my truths and no one else’s. If I want to share them, it’s my choice. Well, unless I travel to Papua New Guinea shirtless, I guess.”

  His wry smile didn’t fool me. “How many people know what it means?”

  “Just you.” He swallowed.

  My breath stilled, and it felt like we existed in a time all our own. “Thank you for trusting me.”

  His face was a kaleidoscope of emotion, changing too quickly to identify. “We’re friends.”

  Before I could respond, Matt sprayed my skin again and wiped it clean. “You’re all set, Paisley.”

  I looked over, scared to see if I’d end up as one of those epic fail posters with the wrong tattoo, but it was perfect. Fierce. “It’s exactly what I wanted. Thank you.” My voice nearly broke, but Matt took it in stride, cracking a smile.

  He slathered on ointment, then bandaged it. A set of directions and a paid bill later, and Jagger and I were on our way back to Enterprise.

  I loved my tattoo. I loved every black line, every curve of ink, every feeling that washed over me when I looked at it. I’d never done anything so permanent, or anything that was liable to get my butt whooped. But I wasn’t afraid. Peyton wouldn’t have been afraid. No, she would have strutted into the house in a sports bra and rolled her eyes when Mama said something.

  Maybe I wasn’t as fearless as Peyton, but she’d been right. I was fierce in my own right. As if the ink reached deeper than my skin, it seemed to bleed into my soul. I had given up so much in the name of being safe, and not only in regard to my heart. How much was there to give before I wasn’t me anymore?

  “Mission accomplished?”

  “Absolutely. Best tattoo guide ever.” I gently squeezed his hand, then released it. “Tell me why you have ‘Invictus’ across your stomach?”

  He stared quietly at the road so long that I didn’t think he was going to answer, our soundtrack only the chirping of crickets.

  “What’s with the Shakespeare?”

  I smiled. Quid pro quo. He’d never give up something of his own without learning something equally deep. “I read it my sophomore year, and it spoke to me. Peyton was always bigger than life, and growing up with that…well, it makes you feel smaller somehow, and not just in height. She was fearless. The last time we were together, she said, ‘I may be wild, Lee, but you’re fierce. Your heart is so much stronger than mine.’” I swallowed and closed my eyes for the smallest moment, almost feeling her arms around me that last time.

  “Then she slipped this”—I pulled the paper I’d had my tattoo drawn from—“into my back pocket.” His eyes darted to mine. “I may be little, but I’m fierce, and I’m going to live every day remembering that. She wouldn’t want anything else, and I’m so sick of accepting anything less.”

  Silence stretched between us while he deliberated. I kept my focus on his profile, letting him know that I expected his trust in return for mine.

  “I left my house, my father, as soon as I was legally able to emancipate myself. I abandoned every plan he ever made for me, every expectation that anchored me to his world. I became the captain of my ship.”

  “The master of your soul,” I finished. What could have happened that he would walk away from his family? My parents drove me crazy, but I couldn’t imagine not having them.

  “Yes. Don’t feel sorry for me, Paisley. I can feel pity pouring out of you. I’ve never once regretted my decision.”

  I tried to blank my expression. “How old were you?”

  “One day over seventeen.”

  I knew he wasn’t ready to tell me why…yet. “Thank you for telling me.”

  We pulled into the driveway, and Jagger came around to my side, lowering me without brushing the tattoo. My feet hit the ground, and I smiled at him, all too aware of the shiver that raced through me at contact with him.

  He cleared his throat. “How did you lose her? Peyton?” I felt the blood in my face race out of it like someone had pulled a drain plug, and he flinched. “I’ll understand if you don’t want to tell me.” His hands lingered at my waist before he drew them back.

  I wanted him to know, to put it together as much as I needed him to stay away from my personal nightmare. “She had a heart condition no one knew about. It gave out one morning while she was away at school, and she was gone. Sudden cardiac death. Just like that. No good-bye.”

  He hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his shorts. “I’m so sorry you lost her.”

  This was it, my chance to tell him naturally. Right. Now. Chills raced through me, but I opened my mouth anyway. “Jagger, you should know something.”

  “Yeah?” I saw it then, the flickers of trust in his blue eyes, the slightest opening in the doorway he kept so tightly locked to himself, and I just… I just…

  “I really like being your friend.”

  I chickened out.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jagger

  The hardest moment was when I saw you for what you really were…a liar.

  My feet swung off the tiny seat my ass perched on. “Come on, little man! You got this!” The kid looked about seven, lifting his leg off the ground as he wound for the pitch. The ball released, sailing through the air, but fell short of the target.

  He looked devastated.

  “Hey, Dad!” I called out. The guy raised his eyebrows at me, and I tilted my head to the side, motioning to the lever that would dunk me.

  He smiled in gratitude and carried the kid up to the red-and-white-spiraled target. “Go ahead, Brody.”

  The boy’s eyes lit up as he looked at me beneath his Iron Man face paint. “You sure?”

  “Show me what you got!” I took a deep breath as his little hand flew out, pressing the lever. The seat dropped out from under me, and I plummeted four feet into the tepid tank of water. I surfaced and gave the kid a thumbs-up as I climbed the ladder.

  Masters held open the cage door. “Your shift is up.”

  “Thanks, man.” I jumped out of the dunk tank, sluicing the excess water off my hair with the towel he handed me. “I have a couple hours off.”

  “Why the hell would you sign up for two shifts of this?”

  “The kids are cute.”

  “And that had what to do with Walker skipping out?”

  “We got tasked. It’s for charity. The guy never gets to see his girl, and I don’t mind getting dunked for two hours. He’s done far worse for my sake.”

  Masters nodded. The guy was harder to crack than a nuclear code. “You might want to get your shirt on. The CG is wandering around here somewhere, and you know how he feels about ink.” He started to motion to his arm and then his pecs, then gave up and generally gestured to his torso. “You’re kind of…colorful.”

  “What do you think he’d have to say about this?” I flicked my tongue stud across my teeth.

  “Jesus, Bateman. It’s like you’re asking to get kicked out.”

  He reset the lever and climbed into the tank. Montgomery, a warrant officer from our class, took the money, and the next shift started.
Shit, my toes were pruned.

  The fair was in full swing behind the CG’s house. Guess he didn’t mind loaning out his helipad for the day. People wandered the booths, bouncy things had squealing kids, and the smell of fried food made my stomach grumble.

  I changed into my cargo shorts in the dressing area and then walked behind the booth where I’d left my shirt and shoes.

  “Bateman.” Shit.

  “Major Davidson, sir.” He wasn’t in uniform, but he stood between me and my shirt, snacking on a bag of peanuts. They were fucking mad about peanuts down here.

  “Staying out of trouble?”

  “I haven’t recently relocated any giant bears, if that’s what you mean.”

  He cracked a smile. “Yeah, that was along the lines of my thinking.”

  “I was debating one of the stationary helicopters, but you’ve made me see the error of my ways.”

  “I somehow doubt that, but I’ll take what I can get when it comes to you.” He popped another peanut and motioned toward my shirt. “Please.”

  I walked around him, cursing as water splashed me from Masters getting dunked.

  “Well, Bateman, this takes casual to a whole new level.”

  Fucking Carter. My fist flexed automatically, and I swallowed the need to force his West Point ring down his throat. If he tapped it on his desk one more time… “Just grabbing my shirt, Carter. Nothing to worry about. When are you working?”

  He checked his watch. “I’m up after Masters in about an hour. I came by to see how it’s going.”

  I had half a mind to hide his clothes while he was in the tank. Mature? Nawh. Fun? Yup. “Have fun with that.” I reached around him and grabbed my shirt.

  “Yeah. I’m supposed to be meeting Lee here. You haven’t seen her, have you?”

  I shook my head, pulling my arms through the shirt. “Never met her, so zero chance of me recognizing her.”

  “Right.”

  I put the bottom button through the hole and started on the second.

  “We dress for the festivals around here.”

  General Donovan. Fuck my life. “Yes, sir. I was just getting out of the dunk tank.”

  “General, sir, this is Jagger Bateman. He’s another lieutenant in my class.” Carter introduced us, looking all chummy with the CG.

  The general’s eyes looked like they were about to bug out of his head. “Bateman?”

  Why is everyone all over my last name today? “Yes, sir.”

  His jaw flexed, and he folded his arms across his chest. That was not the answer he wanted. “Exactly what are you doing here?”

  “Working the dunk tank, sir,” I repeated, gesturing behind me like there wasn’t a huge fucking dunk tank in eyesight. “Our class was tasked with it.”

  He looked at Carter. “He’s still in your class?”

  Carter nodded, and a gleam came across his face. Prick. I had to give it to General Donovan. Other than his arms and that tic in his jaw—there it was again—it was hard to tell he was angry, but I’d grown up with a man skilled at hiding emotion. Yeah, the general was more like livid.

  “Major Davidson?”

  The major stepped forward. “Yes, General?”

  “Can you explain why Bateman is still present on my post? I asked you to handle this.”

  Well, shit. My stomach dropped fourteen stories and landed in the realm of nausea.

  Major Davidson stopped chewing those peanuts. “You told me to handle it, sir. I tasked the lieutenants accordingly. Bateman was willing to take the fall for all three, and the other two came forward of their own volition. I felt obligated to give them another chance.”

  “I want him gone. Now.” He left no room for argument. Carter had the gall to look a little shocked, and then fucking ecstatic. Prick.

  “Daddy?” That voice soothed me like nothing else could. Paisley, dressed in the sexiest white sundress I’d ever seen, walked around Carter toward General Donovan. “What’s wrong?”

  Wait. “Daddy?” My eyes narrowed, and hers widened as she saw me. Her eyes lingered where the skin of my chest was exposed before dragging them to my face.

  “Jagger?”

  Now Carter and General Donovan stared her down and called her out at the same time.

  “How do you know him?”

  “You know each other?”

  My teeth ground, more pissed at her betrayal by omission than General Donovan threatening to kick me out of flight school. “You’re General Donovan’s daughter?”

  “You’re in flight school?” Her mouth hung slack. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I told you I was in school here. You assumed college. You?”

  “You never asked for my family pedigree.”

  “Lee, how do you know Bateman?” Carter asked his question over again, and this time I put it together. William Carter. Carter was Paisley’s Will.

  The blood drained from my head, leaving me feeling drunk, and not in a pleasant-buzz kind of way. Oh, no. This was an I’ve-done-twelve-shots-of-tequila-before-a-game kind of way. I would rather have been cross-checked into the boards with no helmet than hear this.

  She gave her forced smile to Carter, the one where she didn’t show her teeth. “He’s teaching me how to swim.”

  “He what?” Her dad growled.

  “Bateman?” Carter’s mouth turned down like he’d tasted something disgusting.

  I knew the feeling well.

  I buttoned up the rest of my shirt. If I was getting kicked out of flight school, I was at least going to have clothes on. “Hard time believing I can swim, Carter?”

  “Wait, you know him, too?” Now it was Paisley’s turn to look incredulous.

  “He’s in my class, Lee! He’s Bateman!”

  Ah, so he’d been talking about me. Nice to know.

  Her gaze snapped toward mine. “You’re the one he’s competing against?”

  “Yes.” And I’ll win…if I stay.

  “Get him off my post, Major Davidson. I won’t have him here.” The general’s jaw was set, just like his opinion of me.

  “Sir, all due respect, but you told me to deal with him, and I did. He’s completed his extra duty and then some. He made a stupid mistake.”

  “He put that damned polar bear on my lawn!”

  I sucked in a breath and closed my eyes before I could see Paisley’s reaction. I could handle everyone’s disapproval, but not hers. The silence got to be too much for even me, and I manned up and opened my eyes.

  Paisley didn’t look disgusted. Nope. She had a shit-eating grin on her face. The general may as well have not existed—I couldn’t pry my eyes off Paisley’s thousand-megawatt smile if he’d told me I was on fire. Then her expression fell, and she glared over at Carter. What the hell was that about?

  “Process his paperwork. There’s no chance he’s staying.” General Donovan delivered sentencing and turned on his heel, making it a couple feet before Paisley stopped him.

  “Daddy, no! You can’t kick him out! He saved my life!”

  “Lee-Lee, what on earth are you talking about? Because of the swim lessons?” He shook his head. “I love you, but you don’t get a say in these matters.”

  She glanced at me. “I went to Florida. When I told you I had that appointment with my academic advisor? I really went to Florida with Morgan.”

  Man, if I thought he’d been pissed before, the shade of mottled red he turned was far worse.

  She cleared her throat. “I needed to go. It’s hard to explain, but I was thrown into the water. I would have drowned if Jagger hadn’t jumped in to save me. He’s the only reason I’m still here. He pulled me out of the water, and then he took me to the doctor even after I told him I didn’t need it. Thank God he did, because I needed…” She blushed, the color just…enchanting. Shit, there’s that word again. “I needed to be seen. He saved my life twice in the same day.”

  She hadn’t said a thing. Had she had an asthma attack when they’d taken her to be examined?
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br />   The muscle in his jaw flexed once. Twice. “Is this true?” He asked it like a dare.

  I wanted to lie, for the sheer satisfaction of letting him believe I was the asshole he thought I was. But I wouldn’t make Paisley a liar. “It is, sir. She’d been thrown in by some asshat who didn’t know she couldn’t swim.”

  “Language,” Carter growled.

  I ignored him. “I was just in the right place at the right time, sir. But it’s the best thing I’ve done with my entire life.” Her indrawn breath was all I heard.

  A splash broke my concentration and jarred General Donovan, too. He looked past me to where I knew Major Davidson was standing. “He stays under one condition.”

  “Sir?” Major Davidson sounded as confused as I felt.

  “You all stick together, Lieutenant? You and your fellow delinquents?”

  “Yes, sir.” My stomach dropped and my mouth watered, like that second before puking. I really didn’t want to see breakfast again.

  “How about this—your position on the Order of Merit list for aircraft selection can stick together, too. Wherever you place after the primary phase of flight school is where they do. Fail, and you drag them down with you. Enjoy primary.” He walked off, dismissing us all without a word. Major Davidson clapped me on the back and followed.

  Enjoy primary. He wasn’t kicking me out, but he’d tied Josh and Grayson to my epic-fuckup fate.

  “Will Carter, you get your rear in the house. We’re fixing to have a few words that shouldn’t be spoken in polite company.” Paisley shot a glare at Carter and stalked off, leaving him to trail her like a wounded puppy. We really needed to talk, and I moved in her direction until I remembered that Carter was the one with the right to her time. Not me. We were just friends. My shoulders drew up, and my torso tensed with my jaw.

  Carter. Will-fucking-Carter. He touched her. Kissed her. Damn it, he knew how she tasted. And he didn’t deserve any of it, that ring-tapping asshole.

  I spun and slammed my fist into the Plexiglas side of the trailer. My knuckles split open, the blood streaking a garish line across the white material. Pain radiated up my arm, but it never reached my chest, where I desperately needed it to quell the fire like it usually did.