Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 120631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 603(@200wpm)___ 483(@250wpm)___ 402(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 603(@200wpm)___ 483(@250wpm)___ 402(@300wpm)
Soren swallowed, still processing the relief that he wasn’t dying. “I’ll get right on that.”
“Mr. Hawthorne, whether you believe in anxiety or not, it doesn’t make it any less dangerous. Your body is trying to tell you something. I suggest you listen before it gets louder.”
She held out the clipboard and asked him to sign on the line. He handed her back the pen and returned the ice pack to his head.
“You’re probably going to sleep for a while. I suggest having a balanced meal and getting some rest. If you feel it happening again, try going on YouTube and looking up some breathing exercises. Once you’ve rested, think about identifying the stressors in your life and resolving them—sooner rather than later.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.” She waved a hand for them to exit the vehicle.
Logan followed him to the front porch where Soren dropped to the first step, ice pack pressed to the back of his neck.
When the ambulance pulled away much quieter than it arrived, his brother laughed.
“Shut up.”
“Sorry.” Logan flared his fingers in a calming motion, and he said, “The last thing I want to do is stress you out.” The last few words came out choppy as he bottled up another laugh.
Soren punched him in the arm. “Asshole.”
“Hey, I just saved your life.”
“You can’t save someone’s life if they aren’t in real danger.”
“Whatever.” Logan pulled out a lollipop, unwrapped it, and plugged it in his mouth, proud as a peacock.
The scent of artificial fruit filled the air. “Where did you get that?”
“The cute paramedic gave it to me. Because I did a good deed.”
Soren frowned. That woman wasn’t exactly what he’d call cute, and the other one was a two-hundred-fifty-pound man.
Now that the ordeal was over, he could laugh at himself. “I can’t believe that happened.”
Logan sighed, twirling his lollipop. “What can I say? You’re a delicate flower.”
He tossed the ice pack aside and groaned. Was the paramedic right? Was this because of stress? Maybe part of it was work, but at the core of all his worries was Jocelyn.
“What am I going to do, Logan?”
His brother sighed again, resting his arms on his knees, lollipop dangling from his fingers. “You’re going to do whatever it takes to fix this.” He clapped a hand on Soren’s back. “You’re going to do the right thing. Because under all that polish and tight-ass perfectionism, you’re actually a good guy, Soren.”
He held his brother’s stare, waiting for the punchline. When it didn’t come, he simply said, “Thanks.”
Logan popped the lollipop back in his mouth. “Hey, that’s what heroes do.”
Soren rolled his eyes, ripped the lollipop out of his mouth, and threw it into the dirt.
“Dick.”
CHAPTER 18
“YOU FEEL YOUR DREAMS ARE DYING…HOLD TIGHT”
Soren drew the curtains shut and the office collapsed into shadows, a confessional insulated from the October light beyond. It had been four days since his episode, and he’d spent every second of that time thinking about what he actually wanted and prioritizing his goals in life.
Today was the first step in a long line of steps that would bring him closer to his end goal.
His body moved in a metronome-like rhythm, mind focused, breath controlled, each pace deliberate. He’d done as the EMT suggested and looked up breath work on YouTube. Now, his body naturally followed those patterns whenever he felt the slightest tremor of tension.
In, hold, exhale.
The words of his memorized speech burned through his brain as he silently mouthed each statement with practiced cadence, while also following the breath routine.
A soft knock fractured his concentration. He glanced at the clock. Marie knew better than to interrupt before it was time, which meant the knock could only be his brothers.
“Come in.”
Greyson and Logan crossed the threshold, rolling into the space like an undertow. A sense of ease settled over Soren at the sight of them.
“Ready?” Greyson’s voice held the sturdiness of an oak.
Soren glanced at Logan, and their gazes locked as his youngest brother gave a confident nod.
“I’m ready.”
“No change of heart?” Greyson asked.
Soren shook his head. He’d thought long and hard about where he stood and knew what he wanted for their company moving forward. “No change of heart. Let’s do this.”
Right on cue, Marie knocked. “Sir, it’s time.”
The three men moved through the corridor with militant coordination, power in motion. Employees flattened themselves against the walls with instinctive deference. Three brothers, carved from the same ruthless lineage, bound by blood, locked in loyalty, yet each one uniquely different in their own way.
The boardroom doors opened inward. The ten seated members lifted their eyes in unison, posture snapping to attention as the air shifted.
“Good afternoon,” Soren greeted, taking his seat at the head of the table. Murmured responses followed, getting the pleasantries out of the way first.
The windows framed the harbor beyond. Grey water, pale sky, and the amber glow of the trees holding on to their past as they faced the inevitable peak of fall.