Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 144908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Jackson rested a hand on his shoulder for a brief second, then it was gone. “Thanks, man, for taking me down when you did.” Then he was up and sprinting toward the alley again.
Master could read people easily; he’d grown up having to do so in order to survive. He’d known the moment Jackson lifted his head and took a cautious look around that he would be on the move quickly. He matched him step for step.
Jackson didn’t bother to snarl at him for inserting his body between the deputy and the buildings. Master was used to protecting Czar and the others. That was his purpose—taking care of the others.
“You must drive that woman of yours out of her mind,” Jackson observed when they managed to reach the alley without incident.
They paused just inside, both leaning against the wall of Donna’s Gift Shop.
“I think I do,” Master conceded. He didn’t mean to. He didn’t know the first damn thing about relationships. He did know how to keep people alive. One way was to keep them from leaping onto his back during a gun battle. “My little fairy princess turns into a fiery little hellcat sometimes. Restraining her is a full-time job.”
Jackson again looked at him over his shoulder, his eyes piercing, seeing too much. “You love that woman.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“No, you really do. Your marriage to her is the real deal. I thought maybe you two got together in order to find whoever murdered her parents, but it’s clear she’s the real thing for you. I should have seen that right away. I was too busy trying to get Savage back with our pranking feud. She’s beautiful, Master. Ambrielle is really beautiful, and she’s gone on you. She didn’t hesitate to protect you when the shooting started.”
“I’ll be having a few words with her about that.” Master knew he sounded grim, but he couldn’t help it. He felt grim. “She could have been killed. She’s a financial advisor. She doesn’t know the first thing about some asshole deciding to shoot up people going about their everyday lives just for the hell of it.”
“No, but she’s learning fast. She just lost her parents. She doesn’t want to lose you too, Master,” Jackson warned.
Master didn’t need to be reminded. He looked up at the body hanging from the roof. One arm dangled down just past the head. The wind had died down enough that only a few leaves were swirling around the dead man’s chest and face. Master paid attention to his hand and the tattoo on his index finger—the one with the snake coiled around it. He was careful not to look too closely at it. The man had tattoos concealing the tops of his knuckles, fingers and hand and a heavy sleeve that nearly covered every inch of skin.
“You ever see him before?” Jackson asked.
Master hadn’t. He shook his head. “No, but he’s Russian. We attended a school there, as I’m sure you’re aware. He wasn’t part of it, but there were other schools. I’ve heard a rumor that there’re some graduates who banded together to form a business. He might be part of that.”
He looked closer to see if there was a gold ghost worn on him anywhere. The man wasn’t wearing a suit, so there weren’t any cuff links, and he didn’t see a gold ghost pin on him. The snake tattoo told him this man had been part of Helena’s, or whatever she was calling herself, hit team. Jackson had killed three of them. If they were lucky, Jonas had killed one or more. Helena was going to run out of assassins if she wasn’t careful.
“Do you have any idea who these men were shooting at?” Jackson asked, easily climbing up the side of the building to the roof.
“How the hell would I know that?” Master demanded. “I just had a procedure done on my throat. I’m tired, hurting and want to go home and go to bed. If you think you can manage to stay alive all by yourself, that’s where I’m headed.”
“You need to stick around and give your statement.”
“I need to go to bed before I fall on my face. You know where to find me. Ink has to drive me home. I was put under so I can’t drive. My statement is I don’t know a fucking thing, Jackson. I walked my wife out of the tea shop and someone started shooting at you. Or Jonas. Or just at everyone. Hell if I know who they were shooting at.” He stopped as if just having the thought. “You don’t think they were shooting at Hannah, do you? She was standing right in the doorway of her shop. Jonas will lose his mind. My head hurts so fucking bad I can’t think straight.”
He ran all his words together so Jackson would have a difficult time separating truth from lies. If he was very lucky, the deputy would give him a pass, thinking the anesthesia had scrambled his brain. He’d already turned away, striding back toward the Floating Hat.