Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 52851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
“Jesus Christ!” The nearest ER when she was a kid would have been over an hour’s walk. And Preacher had been so close to finding out…
“Then the day happened,” she sounded almost robotic, like she’d locked that day away.
“Did you ever try to tell your dad?”
Her answer was just to shrug. I would bet my bike that the bitch had told her that he’d never listen or believe her, or she had threatened her in some way. Preacher was going to have a fucking shit fit over this, but I now understood why she had issues with him.
“I’m tired now,” she still didn’t sound like the Kyle I had come to know in such a short time.
There had been contradicting flashes of the woman who was pretty much a legend. On one hand, she was a kick-ass tactical ace who could take down anyone without blinking. Then, on the other, was this vulnerable woman who had never opened herself up emotionally apart from to her team. I was going to have to tread more carefully than I thought. The other issue was, how did I tell Preacher without breaking the trust she’d just placed in me?
I was about to move us so that we were lying down when she turned around and straddled my lap. The warmth of her pressed up against me almost made me groan.
I watched her as she held my face in both hands and looked into my eyes. Then, shocking the shit out of me, in a move that was tender and something that seemed so far away from the regular Kyle, she gave me a soft kiss.
“Thank you,” she murmured against my lips.
Wrapping her up tightly in my arms, I hugged her before moving us, so we were lying down again. After turning off the light, she went back to sleep almost instantly while I lay there trying to get my head around it all. Preacher was going to be nearly feral when I told him what I’d found out. I had to find a way to do it when Kyle wasn’t around because she’d know that I’d told him. I also had to find a way to get Kyle to forgive me when she did find out.
Then there was the secret that Preacher was still holding back from her. When had my life become so fucking complicated? Usually, the shit keeping me awake was the jobs we were doing and the people involved. That all still weighed on me, too, but now there was Kyle.
Fucking hell!
Chapter 5
Kyle
The numbness had started creeping in, a slow, insidious tingle spreading from my thighs to my core as I lay stretched along the thick branch of the tree I’d chosen for the job. In theory, it had seemed like a good pick—solid, sturdy, plenty of cover. But in practice, the bark was rough, digging into my ribs, and the pressure against my pelvis was becoming borderline unbearable.
I shifted slightly, trying to redistribute my weight, but there was no escaping the discomfort. My vagina was practically screaming at me now, a steady pulse of protest that was hard to ignore. I’d spent hours lying on the ground before, elbows pressing into unforgiving dirt, neck cramping, waiting for the perfect shot. But at least then, I could adjust, do my usual focus drills. At least then, I wasn’t balanced precariously in a goddamn tree.
Still, I had to count my blessings. No scorpions skittering around my arms, no blistering sun roasting my back. It could be worse. It had been worse. The joke among my team was that we could endure just about anything—bullets flying, wounds bleeding, bones aching—but swamp ass? Swamp ass was the true enemy. It led to swamp crack, and that was a nightmare no one wanted to deal with when you had to lie still for hours or trek through a hellscape of heat and sand.
The tiny earpiece crackled to life, and Preacher’s voice came through, smooth and controlled, as always.
“On my signal. Kyle, take two. Hunter, proceed west, we’ll take east. Jagger, hit north. Duke, south.”
Hunter and I had been skeptical when Preacher first laid out the plan, but after running through the options, we’d both agreed it was the best way forward. Even if it stung to follow orders instead of calling the shots myself, Perry’s safety was the priority.
I reached up, pressing my throat mic twice in acknowledgment. A low-pitched tone confirmed my response, and then I heard the faintest shuffle of movement as my team advanced.
Two guards stood at the front of the compound, armed to the teeth and oblivious to the fact that they were already dead men walking. My job was simple—take them out and provide cover.
Just as I adjusted my sight, a cricket landed on my forearm, its tiny legs prickling against my skin. I ignored it, exhaling slowly, steadying my shot. The targets were a joke. Heavily armed, sure, but if you were running an operation like this and wanted to stay under the radar, maybe—just maybe—you shouldn’t be parading around with RPGs strapped to your back and firing random shots into the air like an action movie reject. Fucking amateurs.