Journal Entry

I mean it, this time.

I'm blocking Sarica's number.

For real!

LORENZO WAITED UNTIL his wife was sure to be asleep before he started swearing in his mind.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

His heart was still beating like mad against his chest. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt this out of control. Or this much fear.

If he had been a few seconds too late, his wife would literally have fallen to her death, and all because of her stupid phone.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

He had the most violent urge to throw her phone out of the chopper, and he clenched and unclenched his fists in an effort to control his temper. He didn't even know why he was furious, dammit .

All he knew was that the thought of losing his wife had made him see black.

And the last time that happened—-

A lot of people died.

So many fucking people.

And he had killed all of them without remembering a single thing.

Breathe.

It was his turn to work hard at regaining control over his body.

Breathe, dammit .

His emotions.

Breathe .

His sanity.

Lorenzo slowly reached for his wife's hand before closing his eyes.

The blackness gradually receded.

And he found himself squeezing her hand as if needing to reassure himself that she was real.

Alive.

And still his .

The thought jarred him to the core.

Fuck.

He had never been the type to feel possessive towards anything, much less anyone.

Until her.

The phone he was holding suddenly buzzed, and Lorenzo stiffened.

Sarica : Oh my gosh, Gaz.

Sarica : I know why you're not texting me back.

Sarica : And I just can't believe our little Gazelle is all grown up!

Sarica : You're excited about your wedding night, aren't you?