Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 101501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Time was critical, so Duke reached for his phone to call emergency services but dropped it when a large hand closed over his mouth. His attacker was stealthy. Quiet on his feet. He’d never heard Chance coming.
He struggled to break free, aiming his weapon behind him. He tried to pull the trigger, but the gun was yanked from his hand. He was a dead man. Knew it when the gun flew across the room. His fears were confirmed when the sharp sting of a blade sliced across his Adam’s apple before he could react.
Duke clutched at his throat as his life began to fade. The last thing he heard, as a white light engulfed him in its warmth, was the ticking of a clock. Its second hand taunting him as blood fled his body at a rapid rate. He should have gone to Mexico last year, his brain fired at him in the closing seconds of his life. He would have loved to feel the sun on his skin in the middle of winter.
Nine
Then Don’t Let Go
A SHARP BARK had Logan reaching beneath his pillow for his 9mm, as he tried to adjust his eyes to the dark. There were no trees surrounding him, no water lapping at a shore. He wasn’t under the stars somewhere in the middle of nowhere he realized, but in Big Sky Saloon sleeping on a cloud compared to some of the places he’d bunked the past six months. Glancing at his watch, he noted it was 4:00 a.m., one hour since he’d crawled into bed, then scanned the room for Max. The war dog was watching him from the doorway. His hackles were raised, his ears pinned back. Max was on alert, so Logan slid out of bed and threw on his clothes, ordering, “Seek,” when he was dressed.
Max sprinted through the bar and sat at the main entrance, an indication that whatever had set him off was outside. With his 9mm in his left hand, Logan turned the lock and opened the door without hesitation. If someone was on the other side, they’d have a rude awakening when Max got ahold of them. Within seconds though, Logan knew what had Max’s attention. He could smell it in the air. Something was burning.
Logan ran into the street and immediately checked the bar for flames. When he didn’t see anything but Big Sky’s glowing neon sign, he spun in a circle searching the other buildings. A pinpoint of light flickered through the trees several blocks up, so Logan took off at a sprint. Most of the structures in town were businesses, but he’d noted a small apartment complex as he drove into town in the same direction as the flames.
As he started to round the bend, a loud explosion rocked the little town. It punched him hard in the chest, sending him flying back the way he came, taking him to the ground. He shielded his head as hell rained down around him and confusion settled in from the concussion, sending him back a year into the past, to a time when he watched his brothers die before his eyes. He raised his gun automatically, searching for the enemy, then felt Max latching on to his ankle. He was trying to pull Logan out of harm’s way. It took him a moment to clear his head as images streaked through his mind’s eye. Ones of his brothers scattered on the ground, mostly in pieces they’d had to identify through dental records and DNA. But Big Sky Saloon’s neon sign, the one he’d forgotten to turn off after locking up, pierced through the confusion and brought him back to the here and now. Skylar’s face erased the other images battling for dominance, until all he could see were her green eyes smiling back at him.
Logan kept his head covered until the last of the carnage settled around him. He rolled to his back and got unsteadily to his feet, searching the area for other victims of the blast. When he saw none, he moved toward the blast zone, storing his 9mm in the back of his jeans. He rounded the curve until he saw what was left of the flames. He had no clue what business had just exploded in front of him, but most of the front half of the building was obliterated.
Lights from area buildings and an apartment complex shone through windows one by one. Residents began to pour into the street with matching masks of shock, heading toward Logan. A man in his fifties, Logan had seen earlier at the bar, came running up to him with a phone in hand.
“What happened?”
Logan didn’t answer, just started barking out orders. “Call fire and rescue.”
The man blinked and looked at his phone, then swiped it open and started dialing.