Hyper Lynx (The Lynx Series Book 6) Fiona Quinn (the dot read aloud .txt) 📖

You won’t stop trying to assess me until I do. Let’s just nip that in the bud.”

“I’m not the bad guy here.” He put the car in gear and started to navigate his way out of the lot.

“No, you’re not. There’s been a parade of bad guys today, and you are most emphatically not one of them. I don’t want to go to the doctor because I’m always afraid the other shoe’s gonna drop, and she’s going to tell me something devastating about my health.” I pinched my lip. “I’m changing the subject. Did I tell you I got a job working at the diner? I start as a server tomorrow morning. The four to noon shift.”

“So much for beauty sleep.”

“You think I need beauty sleep?” I flapped my hand to tell him I was kidding, let the question go. “At the diner, when they put my name on the schedule, I noticed I’d be there with a woman named Destiny. I didn’t see Modesty on the list. Hopefully, at the FBI, I’ll find out if I found the mark.”

“And not the wrong diner.”

“I’m not saying that I didn’t consider that. I triple-checked the text from Finley. And if that was a mistake, I just won’t show up tomorrow. I’ll mark it up to the Universe asking me to intervene with the gal being attacked.”

“You’re not a weapon for the Universe to wield.” Striker’s tone was emphatic.

“But you are, oh tip of the spear?”

“Okay.” He lifted his hand to salute the guard as we passed the security check. “I get what you’re saying. Let me clean that up. It’s my druthers that you weren’t used as a weapon by the Universe. Is ‘Burger Go!’ okay for lunch?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. About tonight, thank you for remembering Mom loved sunflowers.” I touched my hand to my chest. “But I think I’m going to skip a trip to the cemetery. I just want to go home and curl up on the couch with you. Watch some mindless TV, maybe. And go to bed super early so I can get up at three to get to the diner in time for my first shift.”

“All right.”

“I…mmm. Thinking about Mom this whole week… I’m not sure what it is that I’m feeling. Conflicted, I guess, is the best word. I wish she were alive. I wish I could introduce you to her. But I’m glad she’s out of that horrific pain, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” He reached over and took my hand.

“She wrang every possible kindness and joy out of her life even with the misery and pain she went through. I think that the biggest gift I was able to offer her in return was that she saw me as a capable adult before she died. She told me as much.”

“You know, when I met you as Lexi at the hospital and learned about all the things you knew and could do, it was astonishing, almost overwhelming that you had that expanse of skills at nineteen.”

“Oh, please. When you were that age, you were a SEAL, putting in your time and acquiring expertise to join SEAL Team Six.”

“Stop deflecting, listen.”

I pressed my lips together.

“I always wondered if you weren’t busy gathering accomplishments so that your mom could see that you were a success and capable. That she’d know it was okay for her to let go of that pain.”

I squeezed my nose then sniffed. “Yeah, you may well have something there. That pressure to be an adult as soon as I possibly could. Capable. I worked hard at it, from waking up in the morning until I fell into my bed at night. I don’t regret it. Everything in my life, even the garbage things, served me. And the tools in my toolbox have kept me alive where other people might have failed.”

“Would certainly have failed.” Striker’s voice was adamant.

“Okay, I’ll agree with that. So I get to stay alive because my mom was dying, and I needed to demonstrate my competence to her.” I paused. “I was thinking up at the CIA about nature versus nurture in terms of how DNA could or couldn’t tell us what someone looked like. I’m really not sure that I agree with the artist’s premise for her found chewing gum. But for an art installation, it’s fine. For intelligence gathering? Murky.”

“Agreed.”

“It’s an interesting thought, though. I wonder what I would have become with this same DNA but different nurturing background—if I’d gone to school instead of homeschooling, for example. If Mom hadn’t been sick, and I didn’t feel the need after Dad died to be the adult of the family. What career would I have picked had I not known Spyder?”

“An interesting series of questions.”

“I also wonder what would have happened to you if your sister Lynda wasn’t your sister.”

“How do you mean?”

“Because she has—what shall we call it? A checkered past? Poor judgment? A danger gene that led her toward destructive choices rather than using them for good the way you did joining the Navy to become a SEAL. What would have happened without Lynda in the picture? You’d still be on SEAL Team Six.”

“Maybe. I think it works out. By joining Iniquus instead, I get to do the same kinds of mission work. I’m still serving our country. And I got to meet you.”

“Bonus.”

“But I get what you’re saying. Lynda and I come from the same gene pool—nature. But we put those genes to different uses.” Striker pulled into the line at the Burger Go! “The usual?”

“Thanks.” I laid my head back and closed my eyes while Striker ordered our lunch. Good thing he would be driving. I’d have enough time to shove the fast food in my mouth en route, then climb out of the car and run up the steps to the