"Originally, I thought having a low tolerance for alcohol was just a minor issue. At worst, I could drink less or restrain myself after getting drunk. But after what happened last night, I realized that I don't even know what I did when I was drunk, let alone control it.
I don't recall having laid hands on Jared Holbrook, Franklin Miller, or you."
Ben Lucas spoke as he picked up a can of beer from the table.
His long, attractive fingers pulled open the can tab.
He raised his dark, profound eyes towards Harrison Lucas, reflecting a slightly cool light: "As a soldier, I can't leave such an obvious weakness for myself. So, starting today, I need to undergo Special Training."
"Special Training..." Harrison Lucas looked at the table full of wine bottles, holding onto a last sliver of hope and asked, "What kind of Special Training?"
How she hoped it wasn't the kind of special training she was imagining.
