Changing Trajectory

Chapter 1

If you don’t have your own emergency contact one will be assigned to you

Finn

I dropped onto the bench and pinched the bridge of my nose, digging my fingers into the corners of my eyes until I saw stars.

The pounding in my head had lessened slightly now that I was alone in the dark side yard of the mansion.

I’d have to thank Enzo for insisting on quiet pockets around the property where guests could escape the crush celebrating the “engagement of the century”—or at least the engagement of the decade so far.

My Hollywood-famous twin, Dominik Walker could have done much worse than Enzo Zanetti—had done much worse—and I was grateful there was someone who had stepped into Dom’s life so easily when I couldn’t be there for my brother.

It helped that Enzo happened to be a stunt double, meaning he was someone who understood the addiction of adrenaline and risk the way I did.

Someone who got why flying felt more natural than sitting in traffic.

Enzo also understood my need to escape when there was too much going on around me.

My seventh tour as a Navy pilot had been cut short during what should have been a routine training flight.

My wingman, Cisco, suffered an aneurysm at thirty thousand feet—his Super Hornet veering straight into mine before I could even process what was happening.

I made it out. He didn’t. Eighteen weeks in a hospital overseas—first in a medically induced coma, then fighting to recover any semblance of the person I was before.

Dom and Enzo whisked me to their Hollywood Hills house the moment I landed stateside, and Enzo had treated me like family from day one.

Between their doting and my top-notch care team, I was faring better than I might have on my own.

Still, my brain’s propensity to spontaneously combust inside my skull remained a thing, and that thing was exhausting.

Instead of just enjoying the moment, I had to monitor everything—crowd noise, lighting, how long I could concentrate before my brain started misfiring.

Tonight it had been the thumping bass that burrowed into my bones and too many people wearing too much cologne jostling me as Enzo moved us through the crowd.

To his credit, Enzo could tell when I was at my breaking point—something Dom was wildly terrible at for being my twin—and had sent me off to breathe for a bit.

I clenched my teeth as the DJ dropped the beat on a new track, the entire residence shaking at my back.

A cheer went up from the crowd, and I took a deep breath, dropping my elbows onto my knees.

I pressed the heels of my palms into my eyes until the pressure behind them eased slightly.

I couldn’t hide forever, but I desperately wished the nauseating threat of migraine would lessen so I could at least return to the party.

Dom and Enzo deserved my full presence, or at least as much as I could manage.

Something pressed against my right shoulder and I squinted up toward the source.

A woman—framed by the glow of the party behind her, held a bottle of water toward me.

Between the glare from any light source and the dark shadow I was hidden in, her features blurred, but I could tell her body was larger than most of the Hollywood crowd in attendance.

She nudged my shoulder again with the bottle, more insistent this time.

“Take it,” her voice carried a hint of dry amusement, “before you pass out and I have to explain to someone why there’s an unconscious man in the bushes.”

I sat up to take the bottle, untwisting the cap as she settled onto my left.

Her round hip brushed mine with efficiency that suggested she’d already calculated the exact amount of space she’d need.

She sighed before taking a sip from the glass she held, the sound holding layers of exhaustion I recognized.

With her positioned away from the party lights, I could see her better.

Light bounced off her bare shoulders and raspberry pink hair—which was pulled back revealing a shock of blonde.

Her deep blue eyes seemed to ascertain everything about my condition.

She slipped her feet out of her platform sandals and pressed them into the grass, neon pink-pedicured toes wiggling against the blades.

Her face looked untouched by a surgeon—arched nose, small lips, round chin. But her eye and lip makeup were perfectly Hollywood, and I got the sense she knew exactly how to play the game when she needed to. Her pale skin was flecked with freckles across her shoulders and cheeks.

“Do I know you?” I asked finally after taking several gulps of the ice-cold water, the relief almost immediate.

I had only been back in the states a handful of months, but Dom had dragged me all over Southern California as much as I’d allow.

We didn’t look like twins much anymore—I looked older than thirty-one while Dom looked younger.

“I suspect not,” the corner of her mouth pulled into a half-smirk.

“I just needed a quiet spot, and you looked like you might need hydration without a percentage attached to it.” She closed her eyes and took a deliberate breath.

“I made sure it was sealed so you wouldn’t think I was trying to roofie you. ”

“Thanks,” I hitched a smile, leaning against the house and emptying the rest of the bottle.

My head still throbbed, and I wasn’t sure how much small talk I could handle.

I sighed, knowing what I was about to say might cause drama I didn’t want, but it was important to set expectations early.

“Though if you’re tryin’ to get to Dominik through me, it won’t work. ”

“Noted,” her tone held no offense or warmth. “Lucky for you, I have zero interest in getting to your brother through you.”

The music suddenly cut out, and we both cringed at the sharp whine of mic feedback. A fresh wave of nausea hit me and I groaned, leaning forward to rest my arms on my legs and put my head between my knees.

“Everyone! If I could take a moment!” Dom’s energetic voice cut through the crowd. “Please!” He sounded tinny and distant as the chatter died down. “Babe, join me up here, would you?”

A cool hand settled on the back of my neck, massaging gently as I fought to remain upright and keep the contents of my stomach inside. Her touch was careful but confident as she ran her hand down my back before returning to my neck.

“Enzo and I want to thank you all for coming tonight,” Dom carried on, the rest of his words fading out as I rubbed my face, sitting up a bit and pressing my forehead to my clenched fist. The hand stopped moving and gave a gentle squeeze at the back of my neck.

“Medication?” she whispered near my ear, her voice dropping to gentler territory. “Please tell me you have something stronger than Advil for this.”

I managed to nod, the movement sending fresh waves of pain through my skull.

“Where?” Her fingers worked at the knots in my neck again.

“Front pocket,” I ground out. “Left.”

“I’m going to get it now.” I felt her lean away. “Try not to read too much into it.”

I huffed in amusement despite myself. Her touch was careful, but her fingers found the small case quickly. After a moment she pushed me upright, pressing the small pill into my hand and her drink into the other. I pushed the glass back toward her.

“I can’t drink this,” I swallowed hard, prying one eye open to look at her. “No alcohol with the meds.”

“Good thing it’s ginger ale then.” I could hear the smirk this time. “Now take it, and let’s get you inside before you become part of the landscaping.”

“... brother, Finn! Where are you, Finny?” Dom’s voice floated back again as I did what I was told. She took the glass and pulled me to my feet.

“Damnit, I can’t...” I swayed, suddenly grateful for her steadiness.

“Ignore him,” she pulled my arm around her shoulders with movements that brooked no argument. Her grip was surprisingly strong as she hooked her arm around my waist. “He’ll forgive you for not showing. Enzo will make sure of it.”

“... and, of course, Alex, to whom we owe everything!” Dom’s voice added as she moved us toward a side entrance. She punched in the code to the door and pushed me into the dark house. The cool, near pitch-black silence hit me like a blessing and I sighed deeply.

“Wait, I want to meet Alex,” I fought her slightly, my scrambled brain finally registering the last thing I’d heard Dom say. I hadn’t met the guy responsible for making my brother happy.

“I’m sure you can meet Alex another time,” her voice was carefully neutral as she guided us toward the guest room.

“I have a room upstairs,” I muttered, consciousness starting to slip away.

“Yeah, I’m not hauling you up two flights of stairs.” She tapped the small night light on the bedside table and setting me on the bed. “I have no interest in playing Sherpa.” She pressed a button on the wall panel and the shades rolled down, blocking out more light and noise from the party outside.

I watched through heavy eyelids as she moved confidently around the space—pulling a water bottle from a small fridge in the en suite and setting it on the bedside table before moving the wastebasket closer. She leaned over and pulled my shoes off next, her movements gentle but no-nonsense.

“Have you met Alex?” I sank into the soft pillows as she draped a heavy blanket over me.

“I have.”

“I heard he’s a tight ass,” I mumbled, the medication pulling me toward blessed unconsciousness. “Flew in from Salt Lake City just to boss everyone around because he doesn’t trust Dom and Enzo to handle anything.”

“Hmm,” she adjusted the blanket with a bit more force than necessary. “Alex probably has reasons.”

I felt her hesitate beside the bed, the warmth of her hovering close and the smell of something familiar filling my nostrils. Then, so gently I almost thought I imagined it, her lips brushed my forehead, her hand lingering on my temple as her thumb traced once across my brow.

“Get some rest, Finn. I’ll relay your regrets to the boys.”

“Tell Alex I heard he’s a real tight ass,” I whispered as she tapped the lamp again. Darkness enveloped us.

“Of course,” came the whisper back, then the door-click, and then nothing.