Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 63895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Read Online Books/Novels: | The Hammerhead Heist (The Rainbow's Seven #2) |
|---|---|
Author/Writer of Book/Novel: | Max Walker |
| Language: | English |
| ISBN/ ASIN: | B0B2KMR5Z6 |
| Book Information: | |
Roman and Wyatt’s sunset job didn’t go as planned. Now, the Rainbow’s Seven is fractured and at their lowest point yet, defeat right around the corner. Each of them are going to have to dig deep if they want to come out on top and pull off the most important heist of their lives. _________________ Full blurb and cover reveal coming soon. | |
| Books in Series: | The Rainbow's Seven Series by Max Walker |
| Books by Author: | Max Walker |
Chapter 1
Roman Ashford
Roman had never felt more defeated.
He’d been in bad situations before but never like this. Never trapped inside of a tiny white box like a powerless rat, ready to chew off its own tail if that meant a successful escape.
Three excruciatingly long weeks had passed since the sunset job blew up in their faces. Three weeks of being held in solitary confinement at a maximum-security prison, unsure of who or what could get him out of this.
Three weeks of wishing Salt was back in his arms. Wondering how he was doing, what he was feeling. That was probably what hurt him the most. Not the fact that they’d lost their shot at being billionaires, but that he’d fucked up his chance to be happy with Wyatt. It was history repeating itself in the worst possible way, and Roman felt like there was nothing he could do about it.
Well… almost nothing.
Roman didn’t land his position as the head of the Rainbow’s Seven just because of his looks. Even though defeat and depression blunted the edges of his usually sharp thoughts, he could still push through and glimpse the light on the other side. It kept his mind busy, spinning in multiple directions, trying to figure out what could be his best possible chance of escape.
No windows, no clearly marked exits, food was delivered to him, the bathroom was in the corner of his cell, and he got no yard time. To many, it would seem like an insurmountable challenge.
But Roman saw opportunity, and her name was Aimee Saurez, the corrections officer assigned to bring him his food and walk past his cell every hour on the hour. He understood that this impenetrable fortress only appeared that way on the surface, but wherever there were humans, Roman had learned that there’d be mistakes. He’d already managed to get a few cordial sentences out of her and was beginning to notice a difference in the care she’d take with the food. At first, it would be shoved into the receptacle in the bars and left there, two stems of soggy broccoli hanging off the plate next to what could be presumed to be mashed potatoes.
Now, the plate would be placed down gently with a “here you go” and the faintest of smiles.
And there were three stems of broccoli instead of two.
“Here you go,” Aimee said, pushing the plate into the tiny case.
“Thank you,” Roman replied as he grabbed the paper plate with a warm smile, surprised to see a flicker of it returned his way.
“Eat up. I’ll be back in fifteen to take you to your lawyer.”
Roman nodded, unable to feel any kind of optimism over the meeting. He knew the law wouldn’t help him in this situation, not when he was up against the United States government. He had money from his past jobs and knew he could hire the best legal team this side of the Milky Way and he’d still be fighting an uphill battle.
He chewed on the green, mushy rope cosplaying as a vegetable. He sat on the edge of his steel cot, staring down at the cement floors painted in a Pollock pattern of various suspicious stains. His thoughts began to drift, floating toward Wyatt, picturing his smile and trying to imagine his fingers tracing gentle circles across his back. The sensation of his kiss, of his lips, his body. The sound of his laughter and the brightness behind those freckle-framed eyes.
He’d give everything up to be back with him. More than his freedom, more than the sunset job. He’d give up anything if it meant being able to hold Wyatt in his arms again. Their past had been an incredibly rocky one, and he’d been counting on their future balancing out with a smooth road. He never pictured that the road would be made of fucking lava and fireproof piranhas. Nothing about this could be considered “smooth.” Nothing about this was the happily ever after Roman had envisioned for him and his other half.
“Fuck,” Roman said, setting the plate on the bed and dropping his head in his hands.
How could he get out of here? This wasn’t like in the movies, when someone would use a flatted toothbrush to dig a way out or would have a hole in the wall covered by a Playboy poster. He needed to be smarter than that. Had to use the system against itself. Exploit the biggest weakness he could manage to find.
“All done?” Aimee asked, her keys jingling from the belt on her hip. She stared at him through the bars, hawk-like brown eyes scanning him and the cell. She had a few arm tattoos on her left arm. One of them caught Roman’s attention—a realistic black-and-white photo of a baby boy, smiling up at him from her forearm.