chapter one
❝ cold as ice ❞
FTSD

OCTOBER 23 ; 07:34 HOURS
MISSION COUNTDOWN : — 00:21 DAYS

When she burned in, Kade Kazansky's life didn't flash before her eyes.

Not her whole life, just a little piece of it. Her favorite memory. It wasn't some risky flight maneuver she managed to pull off or a really sweet wave she caught on her board or a day spent laughing with her squadron or a night wasted lying in some guy's arms. Really, it was an inconsequential memory, one of many of the same kind, something that no one else would bother remembering.

But, burning in, hurtling towards the earth, the sky exploding around her, Kade remembered.

Rosy—cheeked in the heat, blue eyes peering at the sky, six year old Kade was on the beach, with her dad, her most favorite person in the whole world. Tom 'Iceman' Kazansky wasn't often able to get off work and now that she had just started school, she couldn't go with him to the base as much, but this was a special day. Just for Iceman and his shadow. Kade's mom wasn't feeling well again, consumed by morning sickness from a baby they would lose in a month. Of course they didn't know that, then. Right then, just now, everything was happy.

Kade was going to be a big sister, and she was going to be the best there ever was.

On the beach, her nose was burnt pink and her fingers were sticky from the ice cream cone melting in her hand. She was warmed by sunshine and her father's presence, basking in their glow. She sat between his extended legs, her back to his chest, as he rubbed sunscreen onto her fair freckled shoulders. He had a pair of dark sunglasses on, and of course she insisted she have a pair that matched perfectly.

Together, they were watching the squadron of aircrafts that screamed overhead — one jet in particular. This jet was cruising ahead of all the rest, practicing for an upcoming mission of which its details were highly classified. Suddenly the pilot of this jet pulled a particularly dangerous maneuver, so exciting that Kade's heart skipped a beat and filled her veins with thrill.

Her dad just raised a brow up at the plane soaring by, murmuring, "Cowboy."

Kade giggled at that. Iceman's brow arched even higher.

"You like that, Kadie?"

Guiltily, she giggled louder, "Mmhm."

"Oh no. Do I have another cowboy on my hands?" Iceman cocked his head down at her, tickling his fingers into her ribcage as she shrieked and hurriedly shook her head, still giggling, insisting she did not like that at all — that she was no cowboy. Humming suspiciously, her dad finally had mercy and went back to covering her in sunscreen, "What a relief. Don't scare me like that."

Grinning and trying to catch her breath, Kade's blonde head lolled back against his chest so she could peer up at him. For a moment, she pondered his words. Don't scare me like that. Scare? Absurd. Preposterous. Laughable, even. She was certain that no one and nothing could scare him. Especially not Kade herself — she could never scare him. It was a scientific impossibility. He was the bravest man she ever knew.

Still... Kade had to ask, "Does anything scare you, Daddy?"

"Mm." Ice paused, thinking, "That's a good question, Kadie."

She always beamed at her father's praise, no matter how often she received it.

As he continued thinking, Iceman picked her up and turned her around to begin slathering sunscreen onto her little face, making sure to get her ears because those always crisped the most. Kade waited patiently.

"Not many things scare me." His answer wasn't boastful or proud but deeply genuine as he considered her question, "I'm not exactly scared, but there's one thing I'm concerned about... I'm concerned about making a really happy life for you."

Concerned. It somehow sounded worse than scared.

She took his hand from her face, both still covered in sunscreen, and she held it tight in her lap. Her hand was still so small she could really only hold a few of his fingers at a time, gripping his ring and pinky finger as best she could.

Softly, Kade asked, "What's it feel like?"

Ice thought of how to put it into words, settling on, "You know that feeling when you're on the edge of a really high cliff, and you're worried that someone might fall? It's a bit like that. I don't want you to fall, Kadie. I just want you to be happy."

He just wanted her to be happy.

She just wanted to never scare him.

Years later, seconds away from the impact, falling further than she ever had, she realized neither of their wishes would come true:

Kade Kazansky would never be happy and she would scare her father for the rest of his life.

SEVEN YEARS LATER

Kade Kazansky shouldn't be alive.

But she was. Regrettably. Against all odds, and not for a lack of trying, the universe refused to let her die.

Water rolled off her naked body and dripped onto the tile, gathering in a small puddle beneath her feet. Two hands gripped tightly to the sides of a porcelain sink, steadying herself as she dryly swallowed a small handful of white and blue pills. Only once they were down did she wipe the steam from the mirror, startling at the stranger gaping back. Not quite a dead girl, just a half—alive one. Kade stared at the foggy mirror with a deeply furrowed brow, trying to reacquaint herself with her own reflection.

There was a stranger in her bedroom, in her house, in her life.

Kade's younger siblings looked more like their mother than she did. They had their father's height, true, as well as the famous Kazansky jaw, but that was where the resemblance sharply stopped. With their auburn hair, full cheeks, and brown eyes, they looked softer somehow.

Kade used to be all Tom, the pale blonde hair and those icy blue eyes, sharp features with a brow that was stern when she needed it to be. She had the Kazansky jaw and height too, with legs made for running and a stark white smile with laugh lines on its edges. She used to be just like him, a near mirror image, in more than just looks.

Years ago, she was her father's daughter... She wasn't sure what she was now.

The woman staring back was a gaunt, pale, weary—looking creature. Key word: creature. Seven years later, she was still scarred from The Incident. Rippled burns on her ribcage from the jet fire, a dark pink scar along her collarbone where her bone broke through, and a long pearled line curving through her right eyebrow that gave her a concussion and terrible headaches that lingered. Most of her track marks had healed by now, but... not all of them. Sometimes she caught herself gently massaging the damaged skin of her forearms, trying to remind herself of the pain, trying to remind herself to never go back again.

Imperfect on the outside as she was on the inside.

All her life, Kade tried so hard to be perfect. And she was.

Prom queen. Surf champ. Honor roll. Valedictorian. Best and brightest of her class at the Naval Academy. Graduated top of her cohort at the Naval Aviation School. Youngest ever to enter TOPGUN, winning the trophy and adding a second Kazansky to the list of champions. She earned the legacy and she earned her callsign. Perfect in every single way except one.

Kade's one mistake cost her dearly. Cost her everything.

She tried to hide her many imperfections as best she could, tugging on one of her long—sleeved shirts, even if it was over 90 degrees outside. Then, when she was sure she was totally covered, she forced herself out of the safety of her bedroom and down the stairs.

Sarah Kazansky looked up when Kade entered the kitchen, soft and slow, trying not to draw attention. Her mother's gentle features brightened instantly, and the blonde forced a smile back. She loved her mother; her understanding, her forgiveness, her strength. But Kade also pitied her — pitied her because she couldn't recognize a lost cause when she saw one.

Sarah pressed a kiss to the side of her head, cooking eggs for family breakfast, "Morning, Kadie."

"Morning..." Kade moved to the waiting coffee pot, hands shaking as she poured a steaming black cup, "Where's Finch?"

"Up with the sun, as always." Her mom smiled fondly as she arranged the plates, "That daughter of yours cannot sit still, Kadie."

A few years after The Incident, in the throes of The Dark Days, Kade found herself pregnant. It was... an accident, to say the least. Kids had never been a part of her plan, and the timing of it all wasn't convenient by any means. But at the time, it meant she was at least in control of something in her life. She still had something that was hers. Plus, now that she was living back at home, her parents got to see their granddaughter grow up.

It was good, Kade thought, that her parents had Finch. A mini—me, a near perfect replica, a replacement daughter.

"She's been entertaining your father with her stories ever since."

"The poor admiral," Kade forced a bit of an obligatory laugh, the sound foreign and uncomfortable.

Her mom was too good a person to mention it.

In Tom Kazansky, Finch had a constant captive audience. Literally. Since her grandfather couldn't speak much anymore, the little girl had taken it upon herself to fill those silences at every opportunity. It was... a lot. Kade pitied Ice sometimes, but he endured it all with smiles and nods in all the proper places.

Even now as Kade helped her mom carry food into the dining room, little Finch was already midway through some animated story, totally out of breath but showing no sign of stopping. She was also standing on her chair, hands flying as she talked down at her grandfather.

Kade walked up behind her, kissing her cheek and interrupting, "On your bottom, please Birdie."

The five year old quickly obeyed but did not stop her story, talking a mile a minute. Tom was still giving quiet hums to show that he understood as Finch went on and on with:

"And then—And then—And then—,"

"Are you listening, Papa? Papa, listen! Listen!"

"Guess what, Papa? Guess what?"

Kade took a seat on her other side, keeping her head down, knowing her father was trying to catch her eye. He always looked so happy to see her, and that was more painful than if he just ignored her like she wanted.

At least her brothers were good at that.

They were already at the table, eating their own breakfasts, preparing to go to school. There was a large gap between the three Kazansky children. After their daughter's birth, Tom and Sarah had a series of miscarriages and fertility issues that led to a fourteen year age gap between Kade and her youngest brother, Reece.

Tommy was seventeen and had the world ahead of him. He already had plans to join the Navy and then the flight academy as soon as he graduated next year. Fifteen year old Reece, on the other hand, was much more interested in books than the sky. Kade could see him as a lawyer or professor of some kind, safe and happy somewhere on the ground. Though she wasn't really sure what he wanted anymore; they hadn't talked in a long time.

Kade used to be a good big sister. She used to be a lot of things.

She wondered what was worse: having a sister they thought they couldn't live up to or having a sister they thought disappointed them.

At the head of the table, Tom looked around the faces of his family, eyes falling on the one who refused to look back. Kade just sat silently at the end, not listening to the family conversation, gaze on the world outside the window. Ever since she came home, he hadn't been able to read her. It frustrated him.

Tom 'Iceman' Kazansky loved his boys to death, but he would always have a special place in his heart for his eldest child, his only daughter.

Ice cold? Never, not for his baby girl.

Kade was his first baby, the only one he thought they would ever have.

He cherished her, poured all of his love into her, kept her close to him. He was fiercely protective of her, and he wasn't often found without her by his side. In fact, they were seen together so often around base they earned the little moniker: Iceman and his shadow. Kade used to love that. He started singing that to her each night he could, tucking her into bed, stroking soft blonde hair from her forehead.

"Me and my shadow..."

She'd sing back, "Love you—,"

"—More than life," he'd finished with a smile he reserved just for her.

Rosy chubby cheeks, bright white grin, blue eyes twinkling up at him. His little mini—me. As she grew, he always understood her, predicted her decisions before she made them, knew her thoughts before she expressed them. She was a part of him like no one else was.

They used to be so close.

Now, she could barely look him in the eye.

Kade hesitated outside the door of her father's study for exactly seven minutes before she gained the courage. She knocked once and entered, knowing not to wait for a response before she stepped just halfway inside, clinging to the doorknob like it was a lifeline. Tom turned at the sound of her entrance, trying to smile even though his breathing was ragged. His mouth was hidden by the scarf wrapped around his neck. Her body tensed at the sound of his thick cough, and she waited until he finished to softly speak.

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

Instinctive smile fading, Tom's brows creased a bit at that. He hated when his children called him 'sir'; that was all he ever called his own father. Never 'dad'. Never 'father'. Just 'sir'. Out of respect, out of fear. All the same, Tom waved her further in and motioned to the chair he pulled to the side of his desk.

As if the floor was glass at risk of shattering, Kade slowly crept into the study and made sure to keep her eyes away from Tom at all times. Instead, her gaze briefly swept around the space illuminated by the white light pouring from the massive windows. It had been a while since she was in this particular room; it hadn't changed too much. His rich oak desk and rows of books and that infamous photo of her father and godfather shaking hands on the carrier.

Iceman still displayed her accomplishments, Kade saw, just like he displayed the boys' and his own. School awards, surf trophies, naval certificates, her TOPGUN trophy. That last one was busted, broken and cracked and glued together again. To be honest, Kade was shocked to see it; after all, she was the one who broke it in the first place. She had no idea what it was doing here. She certainly hadn't taken the time to fix it, but she knew who probably had.

She wanted to be a naval aviator her whole life; now, she was lost.

What do you do when you can't do the one thing you've been trained to do, the only thing you've ever wanted to do?

Finally, Kade managed to cross the great divide between the door and her father, and she eased into the chair beside his desk. He gave his daughter one last smile, analyzing eyes trailing over her, before he turned to the computer beside him.

"There's a new mission." Tom began to type onto the black screen, "It's very dangerous. They're recalling the best of the best to TOPGUN for specialized training in order to prepare. They're even recalling Maverick to instruct the candidates."

Huh. Maverick back at TOPGUN — as an instructor, no less; she was sure her godfather was going to love that. The thought almost made her laugh out loud. But she didn't. For a moment, she waited for her father to elaborate, but... nothing came. She blinked once, twice, and then once more. Still, she had no idea how this was at all relevant.

"Why are you telling me this, sir?"

Tom studied her for a moment and then typed a series of words that ripped her heart from her chest: "Because they're recalling you, too."

The whole d—mn world stopped spinning. The sunlight pouring in was far too bright. Her heart was going to explode from how it pounded against her sternum. Her cheeks paled and for a full minute, her mouth opened and closed like a fish as she floundered for words.

"Me? Why the hell—?" Kade finally choked out, voice rough in her panic, "No, they aren't, they can't. Dad, I'm not even in the Navy anymore, I'm not—,"

Tom's one hand quickly tapped the desk, drawing her gaze and stopping her before she could descend into full blown hysterics. Kade's eyes locked on his chest and her lungs heaved as her breathing slowed. He always had the power to do that; comfort her when no one else could, make her see reality through the fog, sit with her through the panic. There was ice in their veins that pumped Kazansky blood, and while she was slow to anger, he always knew how to cool her down when she grew too hot.

Once he was sure her breathing had steadied and he saw her return to earth, Tom gave her a gentle frown and turned once more to the keyboard — slowly, as if he was reluctant to take his eyes off her.

"You're still in the Reserves, Kade, that means they can recall you anytime."

D—mn that deal. In order to get her an honorable discharge after some pretty dishonorable behavior, Tom had worked hard to make a deal on Kade's behalf. He made some calls. He pulled some strings. He saved her. She would leave the Navy with some remaining dignity and a chance at a future as long as she remained on the reserves. She only agreed because she thought she was safe. After what she did, she didn't think they ever would even want her back.

"This is a dangerous mission, and the last person to accomplish something this perilous was you," Iceman pointed at that last word, emphasizing his meaning.

Kade's cheeks were paler than snow, her twitchy hands fisted tightly in her lap, "I didn't accomplish it, Dad."

"You did." His fingers hesitated over the keyboard before finishing, "Despite the casualties."

"Those casualties were my fault—," Briefly, her voice cracked and she had to violently clear her throat to go on at all, "There's no way in hell they want me anywhere near a mission again."

"They want you to help prepare for the mission, not take part in it."

There was some relief in that, she supposed. Tom was relieved by that, too. She was safe in this way; their family would never have to see her in another hospital bed, broken and bleeding, trying to decide if she wanted to live or not. But safety didn't mean sh—t in the face of this. The humiliation was too great, her shame too strong. How could she ever go back? Back to TOPGUN. Back to where she once belonged. Back to where the old Kade Kazansky — the better Kade Kazansky — died.

Her fingers pressed painfully against her lips as if to keep any scared or angry words from spilling out. Her icy eyes trailed upward and locked on her father's face.

"Did you have anything to do with this?"

He smiled a bit, the soft clicking of the keyboard filling the silence where his answers used to be, "They said they wanted the best. Of course that would mean you."

Kade couldn't help but scoff at that, looking out the window to hide the fact that her eyes were burning with tears.

She felt sick. Truly and genuinely sick.

Why would he set her up just to fail? Didn't he know she would just disappoint him again?

Iceman reached out and gently rested his hand on top of Kade's, startling her so much that her entire body jumped and tensed. But he didn't take his hand back. Instead, he gently curled his fingers around and held hers tight. The tension in her shoulders lessened, just a little.

Painfully, Tom managed to whisper, "I want... you to be... happy."

Slowly, Kade stood and their hands fell limply between them, empty and cold without the other to hold it.

"Do I look happy, Admiral?"

When she finally got off house arrest, Kade became desperate to get a job.

Her parents had done so much for her and her daughter. Too much. Their love and forgiveness became suffocating. She hated being in their debt, hated feeling like she owed them, hated feeling like she was any more of a burden than she already was. She had to get out. She had to repay them. She had to provide for her daughter.

The Navy world was very small, and her parents knew Penny Benjamin through mutual friends and Kade's godfather, Pete Mitchell. As the new owner of the famous bar The Hard Deck, Penny heard Kade was looking for a job and hired her on the spot, no questions asked.

Nowadays, the bar was a good escape from the house and all the complicated feelings attached to it. It wasn't always that way. Those first few weeks, Kade kept her head down and trudged through her shifts, misery slipping off her shoulders to be replaced with something close to contentment. Not happiness, never happiness, but it wasn't misery. It was good enough to stay alive for.

So, after tucking Finch into bed, Kade helped Penny prepare for a busier night than usual.

"—We better be stocked full," her boss was explaining, "There's a recall of aviators coming in."

"I heard..." Kade's lips twisted downward.

This was the inevitability of living in Miramar; she was always going to cross paths with pilots no matter what. The only blessing was that most of them were new to the Navy, or at least new to TOPGUN, and the likelihood that they had heard of The Incident with the admiral's daughter was slim. But this was not the case with a recall.

No. There was now way in hell they wouldn't know who she was.

Penny gave a sympathetic smile, "Why don't I have Jimmy work the floor tonight? That way you're safe behind the bar."

Kade sighed gratefully, "Thanks Penny..."

"You got it, sweetheart. Now, hold down the fort, I gotta go check the back."

She saluted sarcastically, "Ma'am, yes ma'am."

"Smarta—s." The older woman rolled her eyes and stepped away.

As Kade wiped down the bar, the brass bell over the door dinged and in walked a very familiar face. Her hand stopped mid—swipe, her jaw dropped, and she asked:

"Uncle Pete?"

Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell mirrored her own expression of shock.

"Kade?"

It had been two years since Kade last saw her godfather in person. Back then, she was still in the trenches of recovery, but Pete looked exactly the same as she remembered. Same nearly black hair, same bright white smile, and same smell of jet fuel on his clothes when he hugged her over the bartop, scrubbing the back of her head as was custom. Maverick had always been the cool uncle. He rode motorcycles and got into trouble and didn't care about the rules. Cowboy, her father's word for him rang in her ears.

In this ever changing world, it was at least reassuring to know that no matter what happened: Maverick would always still be Maverick.

When she drew back, Kade pulled a beer just how he liked it and slid it across the bar so he could catch it. Drink in hand, her uncle dropped onto the stool closest and rested his arms on the counter with a wide grin on his face.

"I didn't know you were working here now, Kade." Pete bumped her chin, "How're ya, kid?"

"About as good as I deserve. Better even."

She seemed smaller somehow. She always used to be larger than life, born with confidence, razor sharp and icy cool. Now, Pete thought, she looked like a scared little girl.

Her godfather gave her that sad smile, that one he had ever since The Incident, but the way he treated her hadn't changed. He just ruffled her hair and talked to her like he always did, "God, I'm so happy to see you, kiddo. I've missed my godbaby."

She coughed out a laugh, "I'm so not a baby anymore, Uncle Pete. I'm almost thirty."

"You're... You're almost thirty?"

Amused, she nodded.

"Holy sh—t..." He ran a hand over his face, voice muffled behind his palm, "I'm getting old."

"Yeah, you do have some greys coming in." She curiously brushed at his sideburns and he batted her hands away like she was a fly so she'd laugh again — the sound tinny and foreign to her ears.

"Alright, alright." Pete huffed and then gave her that smile again, "Well, you'll always be my baby, Kade."

As far as Maverick was concerned, he had two children — even if neither of them were by blood. He was just glad this one was speaking to him. The sweetness of his words, the love in his expression, it was nearly too much for Kade to stand. She quickly cleared her throat and glanced around the bar, taking stock of the customers around the room. It wasn't busy by any means, but a few aviators were already here, throwing darts and messing around in the corner. Business was only going to pick up as the sun dipped lower.

"Scoping out the new candidates?"

"Mm." Her nails bounced against the bartop, nervously glancing up at him through her lashes, "I know you know I'm going to be helping you with this mission, Uncle Pete. And I want you to know that I'm not going to disappoint Dad again."

"Aw, kid... You didn't disappoint him. He's so proud of you. We both are."

She swiftly shook her head like she was dismissing this. Still, she cleared her throat and raised her chin, "Then neither of you are going to regret this. I promise."

Maverick smiled, thinking, There's our girl, Ice.

"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me," said a sudden voice behind her, "Pete."

Maverick and Kade both turned to find Penny standing there with a hand on her hip and a disbelieving smirk on her face. Her uncle's hands dropped to the bartop when he smiled incredulously, "Penny? What are you doing here?"

Her boss chuckled with a shake of her head, "Ah, I should ask you the same thing."

"That is a long story."

"And that's where I leave you," Kade smirked, ducking her head as she slipped away.

She was more than ready to escape that little conversation between exes so she got back to business. Eventually, Mav got the bell rung on him for the phone on the bar rule, and the entire room cheered at the free round. Kade attended to customers, pulling beer and mixing drinks and thanking her lucky stars (whatever ones she had left) that she hadn't recognized anyone yet. More aviators began to filter in, but she did her best to ignore them. Maybe if she didn't acknowledge them, they wouldn't acknowledge her.

If she was lucky.

She wasn't that lucky.

Now standing by the pool table with his fellow candidates, Jake 'Hangman' Seresin noticed the blonde behind the bar and did a double take. In some strange foreign reaction, his mouth went dry, his breath picked up, and his brows went up a little. She had all the features of a classically pretty woman, true, but there was something else about her... Something that he couldn't help but feel drawn to, something he couldn't put his finger on. He was shocked he hadn't noticed her before.

"Target ahead." Hangman subtly nodded to his wingman, gaze never leaving the bar, "Check your six."

Javy 'Coyote' Machado glanced over his shoulder, eyes widening, "Nevermind mine. Check hers."

Together, they checked: long legs, great a—s, blonde and beautiful.

"Her six is a ten." Coyote decided appreciatively, "Bogey... now at 11 o'clock level."

"11:30." Hangman corrected before raising a brow, "Bogey? You assuming she's a hostile?"

"Well, someone should make contact and check her out."

The two pilots exchanged a long, lingering glance, and then:

"Dibs." Hangman rushed out before his wingman could say any different, "It's my turn."

"Dude." Coyote made a face, "It's always your turn."

"I can't help my God—given talent with the ladies. It would be a sin to waste such good looks."

Coyote groaned and Hangman slipped away with a smarmy grin, making his way back to the bar. He casually called, "Penny, my dear, can I have four more on the old timer?"

Penny slid Maverick a teasing look as Kade smoothly filled the order, handing the four beers to the aviator without ever once actually looking at him.

"Much appreciated, Pops." The pilot told the older man before focusing all his attention on the blonde with a truly chivalrous smile, "Thank you. You know, I used to be a regular 'round these parts, and I know I'd remember a pretty face like yours, but I can't say I do. You new here, kid?"

Kade slowly looked up with a raised eyebrow, and carefully, she replied, "Something like that."

He was intrigued now, no doubt about it.

"The name's Hangman, darlin'."

"Really? That's unfortunate."

"It's my callsign."

Innocently, Kade blinked and cocked her head, "Your what?"

"It's a—," The man quickly opened his mouth to explain, then stopped, and stared at her for a long moment. And, slowly, his eyes narrowed and he began to smile, "You're screwin' with me."

"Whatever gave you that idea?" She handed him a small smirk.

Hangman smirked back. Oh, this was not a woman to be trifled with. This was getting more interesting than he expected. She knew the game and she played it well. She wasn't going to be won over and she could hold her own against his flirting; he liked that.

"So you're a pilot?" Kade kept her tone light and naive, "You a thrill seeker or something?"

"Well... The thrill of it is half the fun, but between you and me, kid, I honestly think a lot about the danger up there." The aviator — Hangman, apparently — was speaking with a sincerity that could not be taught. His line was just as polished as his appearance. "One mistake and I'm a smoking hole in the ground."

Feigning surprise, she gasped and clicked her tongue, "I never knew it was that dangerous."

"'Fraid so. But it makes everything down here more meaningful." Oh, here it comes... Hangman leaned closer, head cocking as his voice lowered seductively, "You feel a certain intensity of life, and you just want to chase down every possible chance of pleasure you have left..."

Wow. Just... wow.

Kade couldn't help but scoff out a laugh, arching a sharp brow at him, "Tell me, Hangman. Aren't you scared someday you're going to give a line that gets you punched and you're going to be embarrassed?"

"Not scared at all, darlin', embarrassment is good for the brain cortex. Keeps blood in the cheeks."

That made her laugh for real, and the aviator smiled wider because of it.

Amused, the woman hummed, "Now I see why all the girls come here. They know you guys are chasing skirts."

He waggled his finger between them, "This is not that."

Kade toyed with him just a little, "It isn't?"

"Well, it is." Hangman conceded with a laugh, "It is that, too."

"That's a real comfort to me."

He leaned closer, drawling, "I could be, too."

"Is that so?"

"Mmhm." Hangman nodded his chin over her shoulder, motioning to her uncle Pete, "I'll be saving you from making a big mistake with the old timer."

Pushing through the immediate disgust of ever thinking she'd have that sort of relationship with her godfather, Kade decided to play into it — just for a little fun. In a move that felt very unnatural nowadays, she tossed her hair and batted her lashes, "And risk making a bigger mistake with you, Hangman?"

"Yeah, most likely."

She grinned and he grinned back.

At the sudden rush of hot air, Kade glanced back at the front door opening to let in new customers. But then she recognized these new customers, putting names to faces, and it was suddenly like she couldn't breathe. Her cheeks blanched and immediately she was overcome by a crashing wave of intense nausea. A sweat broke out on her hairline, hands shaking on the bartop.

"Hey. You okay?"

Hangman's voice. Kade's wild eyes darted back to his face. He must have seen the sudden change in her because he tentatively reached out, brushing fingers across the back of her hand. His voice had lost that flirtatious drawl it had carried since the beginning, and his eyes were crinkled with what sort of looked like... concern. She hadn't noticed how green they were until just now. She needed to end this conversation, smoothly and swiftly.

Breathlessly, she asked, "Was there ever a girl who didn't like fighter pilots?"

Drawn back into the game, Hangman smirked and drawled, "I heard of one once."

Kade shakily smirked back, ice cold and razor sharp, "Glad my reputation precedes me. Enjoy your drinks and have a nice night."

Without another word, she slipped away from him.

Hangman was left hanging, smirk still on his lips, words still on his tongue.

Kade fairly tripped back over to Penny and Maverick, breathlessly saying, "I have to take ten. Or maybe thirty."

Their faces immediately wrinkled in concern and Maverick touched her trembling hand, "You okay, kid?"

"Uh, yes. Yeah, no, I'm fine. Just... a lot of people I recognize."

Penny's expression softened and she touched her arm, "Why don't you head out? I can handle it from here."

Guilt immediately began to eat at her, "I'm already going to be busy with the special detachment, I don't want to leave you completely in a lurch, Pen—,"

"Not at all. You go, sweetheart. Take all the time you need."

She didn't need to tell her again.

Snatching her bag, Kade ducked under the counter and slid quickly through the now very busy bar, dropping her hair to hide her face from the aviators in the corner. She nearly fell out the side door and into the sand, dragging in the warm beach air with ragged gasps. And as if matters couldn't get worse, she heard the intro of a familiar song as an even more familiar voice began to sing:

"You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain!"

No. Not Bradley, please not him.

Kade was gasping through her dry heaves, fighting back sobs while her heart fought against her ribcage. Her whole body ached. Her burns and scars always hurt more when she got like this; on the edge of the cliff, trying not to topple off. She had been doing so well. So d—mn well at shutting this out. Moving on. Forgetting. Why was this happening? Why now?

Bradley's singing reminded Kade of another pilot who used to sing on every one of their missions, no matter how many times the squadron begged for him to shut up. She wished she could hear him sing just one last time.

"We're outnumbered! Fall back, fall back now!"

Planes circled each other wildly, snapping past one another like ends of bullwhips. It was a brutal dogfight, missiles and flares and gunfire going in every direction. A mad hornet's nest, jets like bees swarming all over the sky.

"We're hit, we're hit! Oh God, we're going—!"

"I don't see any chutes!"

"Holy God... I'm out, Frosty — missiles, flares, guns, I'm done for!"

"Stay with me, Apollo. I'm gonna get you home, I promise you, just stay with me—!"

Kade thought of her father, who sang to her and only her, when she couldn't sleep, when she was sick, when she outgrew it. She thought of how he didn't sing to her again until she was at death's door and he was trying to convince her to stay alive.

She had never seen fear on his face like she had when he showed up at that hospital after The Incident. Absolute panic. Genuine and total terror. Her big strong dad, who was never scared of anything, was scared because of her. That fearful look in his eyes faded over the coming weeks, but it never completely went away and it lingered even now.

"I don't want you to fall, Kadie. I just want you to be happy."

Kade thought of Bradley, who teased and loved and annoyed her to no end. Bradley who might as well have been her brother, and it was so nice to have a big brother, wasn't it? Someone on her level, who looked out for her, who had her back. She could see them both now, spinning in their tube socks as they sang this song at the top of their lungs:

"Gonna tell the world that you're mine! Mine, mine, mine!"

Bradley who called and called, but she never picked up. Her big brother who just wanted to see her, comfort her, hold her close as her life fell apart all around her, but who she pushed away with both hands. When she ran away and disappeared for two years, her family wasn't the only ones she abandoned.

"Goodness, gracious, great balls of fire!"

Kade pitched over with the force of her rebelling body, hands on her knees as she lost the contents of her stomach. She gagged and coughed through her sick, throat burning with bile until she had nothing left in her system. She startled when a hand suddenly touched her back, nearly falling into her own vomit before she realized it was her uncle Pete. He held her hair back and gave her a sympathetic smile, though his own eyes were painted with pain.

"Come on, kid." Maverick's voice was sad and quiet, "I'll drive you home."

He helped her to her feet, wrapped an arm around her back, and they disappeared into the night.

ANNIE SPEAKS

ahhh chapter one done!!