“Uh, sure,” Nick said. “You do you, Burrito Jerry.”
He stepped back to allow Miles and Trey a chance to say goodbye to their daughters.
Once finished they joined Nick, Dad, Cap, and Bob.
“Daddy?” Jazz said, leaning her head out of the van.
“Yes, my love?” Miles said.
“You got this. Dad Squad.”
He grinned at her. “Dad Squad.” When he looked back at the others, he was determined. “Let’s go.”
They joined the massive crowd moving toward Burke Tower, sticking together as best they could. Nick kept his head ducked low, surrounded by the adults—Cap in front of him, Bob to his left, Miles to his right, Trey and Dad bringing up the rear. Dad kept his hands on Nick’s shoulders, guiding him forward so Nick didn’t have to raise his head.
The closer they got to Burke Tower, the louder it became. Music blasted from somewhere, the sound cacophonous, bouncing off the sides of the high-rises around them. Between that and the noise from all those moving around them, it should’ve been horribly distracting, but Nick thought this was like being trapped in his own head, an overloading of his senses. He’d had years to get used to it and was able to block out the worst of it, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other, keeping his breaths even, calm.
They passed by cops in tactical gear lining the sidewalks, white lettering across the front:NCPD.
“Hold up,” Dad whispered. “Left. The third line. Chris is already there.”
They shoved their way to the left. A dozen lines all told, moving fast, cops and security making quick work of going through purses and backpacks. Rows of metal fences gleamed in the sinking summer sun.
Sweat dripped down the back of Nick’s neck as they got closer to the front, shuffling forward, then stopping. Forward, then stopping. By the time they reached the front, he was soaked, his shirt sticky with sweat, backpack heavy.
“Cap,” one of the cops said as they reached the front of the line, sounding surprised. “What are you doing here?”
“Celebrating with friends,” Cap said easily. “Collins, was it?”
The cop nodded, pleased. “Yessir.”
“Good. You’re holding up the line, Collins. Get us through so these good people can enjoy the fireworks.”
“Yessir,” Collins said. Cap didn’t have a bag to check, and Collins waved him through, sweat dripping down the side of his face.
“Where’s Chris?” Nick hissed, panic bubbling underneath his skin.
“I don’t know,” Dad muttered. “He was here. Can’t see him.”
Miles went next. Then Bob. Then Trey, who looked back at them when finished, eyes wide.
“Next,” Collins said, looking at Nick. “I’ll need to check your bag.”
Nick froze, Dad’s finger digging into his shoulders.
“You,” Collins said, sounding aggravated as he pointed at Nick. “Come on. Keep moving.”
“Shit,” Nick whispered. “Shit, shit—”
“I got this,” Chris said, appearing out of nowhere. He was in uniform, his duty belt cinched tight around his waist. “Take a break, Collins. You’ve earned it.”
Collins looked surprised. “Morton? What are you doing here? I thought you were assigned to crowd control.”
“Helping out,” Chris said, and if he was nervous, Nick couldn’t tell. “Don’t want to you to collapse in this heat. Go hydrate. I’ll cover for you.”
Nick held his breath.
Collins said, “Hey, thanks. I appreciate it.” He looked back at Nick and Dad, gaze lingering for a moment before shaking his head. “Officer Morton will take care of you folks. Have a great night!” He spun on his heels and disappeared into the crowd.