Reckless Heat: A Hostile Operations Team Prequel by Lynn Raye Harris

in her blood. I’ll be surprised if she isn’t the CEO in ten years. My sister is the Girard who’s going to take the company to new heights, not me. My father doesn’t know that yet, but he will eventually.
    “Proud of you, Mattie.”
    “Thanks, sweetie.”
    I don’t remember everything that happened next. Lots of congratulations from teachers and friends, and a lot of high fives and shit with my classmates. We have a good time.
    And then it’s over and everyone’s driving away. There are parties—of course there are parties—and I hit a few of them. But there is no one there I want to see, and I end up going home earlier than I planned to.
    I lie in bed, alone, and stare up at the ceiling. It was supposed to be a great night, and yet I feel empty. Emptier than I ever have before, because everything I’ve worked for is finally here. Yeah, I have to make it at West Point—I can’t wash out and get sent home—but I’m not really worried about that. I’ve dealt with the old man long enough that nothing about the military scares me.
    Sure, maybe he collapses and falls apart after his rages, but his psychological warfare is top-notch. He never surrenders there. Never.
    I close my eyes but sleep won’t come. I had a beer or two, but not enough to affect me. I throw back the covers and prowl downstairs. The house is quiet. Christina is in her room, reading or asleep, and our father is still not home.
    I go into the study. I open my father’s liquor cabinet and take out a bottle of whiskey. He might notice it’s gone, he might not. I don’t much fucking care.
    I take it back upstairs and slug it straight from the bottle. I don’t want to get wasted. I just want to sleep. It takes a few pulls before the alcohol hits my system and makes me mellow.
    I’m not trying to think about anything in particular, but before I know what I’m doing, I pick up my phone and dial a number I got by stealing it from her phone while she washed up my cereal bowl. It takes a few rings, but she answers.
    “Hello?”
    “Hey, Evie. Whatcha doing?”
    “Matt? What’s wrong?”
    “Nothing. Can’t sleep.”
    “Me either…” I don’t believe her because she sounds sleepy. “Hey, how’d you get my number?” she asks.
    “I programmed it in the other night at your house.”
    “Oh. I would have given it to you if you’d asked.”
    “Just as easy to take it off the phone.”
    “I guess so… Can’t believe I won’t see you in the halls next year,” she says softly.
    I can hear the sadness in her voice. I wanted to graduate, wanted to go, but now it’s kind of scary too. It’s here, it’s real, and there’s no going back.
    “Yeah, it’s kinda weird. But after next year, you’ll be done. Then you’ll go off to college somewhere too.”
    As soon as I say it, I wonder if I’ve said the wrong thing. I know Evie’s mother doesn’t have a lot of money. There’s no guarantee that Evie is going to college. She might stay in Rochambeau and get a job. Or maybe she’ll learn to be a hairdresser and work with her mother. Then again, I expect she’ll do something with food. She’s been interested in recipes and flavors for as long as I can remember.
    “I suppose so. Still have to put up with Mrs. Watson’s English class next year. She has it in for me.”
    I laugh. “She has it in for everybody… Hey, you going to Billy Davis’s tomorrow night?”
    “That’s the plan.”
    “Then I’ll see you there.”
    I can hear her yawn. “Yep, see you then.”
    “Night, Evie.”
    “Night.”
    I end the call and sit in the dark, staring at nothing. Then I pick up the whiskey bottle and take another swig. I need to fill this emptiness inside, at least for a little while.

Chapter Fourteen
    EVIE
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    I ’m nervous . I change clothes three times, finally settling on a silky pink tank top with a lace hem and a pair of low-rise jeans that are artfully ripped and flare over the flat sandals I’m wearing.
    Maybe I should wear a