Degrees of Wrong Read Online Free PDF Page A

say. All the while my stomach churned with…?
    “Did I say something funny?” he screamed, the warmth of his stale breath pushing against my face.
    I stood straighter, looked him in the eyes. “No.”
    “NO?” he said, incredulous. “No WHAT?” A vein on the side of his tree-stump neck appeared to have been provoked. It now pulsated as he yelled at me.
    “No, you didn’t say anything funny,” I clarified. Somehow, my answer infuriated him more.
    “What is your name, cadet?” He yelled much louder at me than he had at the others. Maybe it was just that he was closer now. “And what are you hiding behind your back?” He reached around me and snatched the laptop from my hands. “What do we have here?” He tossed it around in his hands. My stomach tightened. “This is prohibited paraphernalia, cadet. It gives me great pleasure to take this artifact off your hands today.” He motioned to Little-Man to retrieve the item. I heard snickers at the end of the line again.
    “Stanley, is that you? Boy, I will slap the spit outta your mouth!” Horan screamed.
    And then I was able to identify the burning sensation in my guts. It was rage. I was losing my temper. Had lost it already.
    Perhaps if my home hadn’t been destroyed, I could’ve overlooked his rude welcome. Perhaps if I hadn’t been tazed and abducted, I could’ve forgiven his obnoxious demeanor, his insults. Perhaps if I hadn’t been drugged, then handled like a rag doll, I could’ve turned the other cheek when he screamed in my face, spraying spittle with each bitten-off word.
    Perhaps if I’d been given breakfast, I could’ve patiently and politely asked him to return my laptop to me.
    But that just wasn’t the case.
    As he allowed himself to be distracted by the imbecile Stanley, I snatched the laptop out of his hands. His head jerked back with a force that should’ve snapped his neck. The shock on his face lasted only for a second before turning to fury. If the vein in his neck pulsated before, it threatened to burst now. His whole body shook with rage, his face smoldering into an erratic-blood-pressure red.
    The line of cadets became silent as a cemetery.
    When he could speak, Lt. Frank Horan bellowed, “WHAT. DO. YOU. THINK. YOU. ARE. DOING.” As far as questions go, that one wasn’t.
    To his surprise—and mine—I took a step toward him, our noses almost touching. And for his ears alone, I whispered, “If you ever put your hands on anything that belongs to me again, I swear I will—”
    “Enough,” an authoritative voice roared at the end of the line. This cut short my threat, which I supposed was good, because the lieutenant looked like his blood might be made of hot sauce.
    I admitted to myself that, as a doctor, I’d acted irresponsibly, given the visible signs of his deteriorating blood pressure. I resolved to feel guilty about that later.
    Ebony gasped, but I refused to unlock eyes with Lt. Horan until he turned to answer the voice addressing us—I had toed the line and couldn’t back down.
    “What the hell is going on here?” the anonymous man demanded.
    Irritable, I redirected my dirty look to the new accuser—and gasped too.
    If I thought Blue Eyes was the most attractive man I’d ever met, I was mistaken several times over. This man was magnificent. He regarded us with muscled arms crossed over a wide chest. His short black hair complemented his flawless olive skin, and even though his brow was drawn into a scowl, it called attention to his long black lashes and dark, penetrating eyes. His perfect mouth was now set in a frown, his strong jaw tight with irritation. This man was nothing less than breathtaking. Tall, dark and handsome was an insult to this marvel.
    I lost my breath as his glare shifted from Lt. Horan to me. Of course, only I could aggravate the most desirable man in existence without so much as an introduction.
    “Are you threatening an officer of my ship?” His voice was powerful, conducive to