Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 69818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
“Is that a yes?”
He yanked his MK-13 from where he’d nestled it, retrieved the scope and a tripod, then fished out a box of .300 Magnum rounds. From deeper in the closet, he retrieved a gun case and arranged everything inside, then shut the lid with a final click. “Why not? You want someone dead, pretty girl, I’m your man.”
“You’re angry.” Brea’s face said that troubled her.
He grabbed a long-sleeved camo T-shirt from the hanging rod above, thrust it over his head, and lied like a motherfucker. “Nope. Just putting on my game face.”
Why tell her he was jealous? It served no purpose except to make him feel pitiful as fuck.
“I’m sorry.” She laid a hand against his chest and looked up at him, her expression imploring him to understand. “I know I have no right to ask, but only you can help.”
The shitty thing was, she was right. Sure, the Lafayette Police Department had a SWAT unit. Some of their officers had spent some time in the military. A couple had even served in war zones. But if someone was going to nail this guy from a few hundred yards away without alerting the perp while keeping the loss of civilian and LPD life to nil, he was the guy.
It just pissed him off that Brea was only eager to crawl into bed with him in order to save Bryant.
“That’s why I’m on it. Stay here.”
“Cage and Mama Sweeney are waiting for me back at—”
“No.” He pinned her with a glare. “If you want this done, stay here.”
She wrapped her arms around herself, but she nodded. “All right.”
Fuck, he wasn’t trying to scare her, but he also didn’t need anyone except him and the cops to know what he had planned—if they even agreed to let him try.
“I’ll be back.” One-Mile turned for the door.
Brea grabbed his arm, folding one hand in his. “Please be careful.”
Was she saying that because she actually cared or simply because she didn’t want his blood on her conscience?
“The gunman will never know I’m there until I put a bullet in his brain.”
She flinched but grabbed him tighter. “Will you keep me posted? I’ll text you my number.”
She really had no idea who she was dealing with. If she was never going to want him, maybe it was time to scare the hell out of her so she’d give him a wide berth. Because if he didn’t get distance between them, he didn’t know how much longer he could stop himself from tasting the sweet pink bow of her lips. And once he got his mouth on her…
Fuck.
One-Mile leaned into her personal space and braced himself against the doorjamb above her head, glaring down. “I already know it. I know everything about you because I made it my business. I’ll call when there’s something to say.”
She swallowed and glanced up at him nervously. “Thank you.”
He raised a brow. “You can thank me later.”
By staying the hell away.
He left his bedroom and the house, dragging his phone out of his pocket as he launched himself into his Jeep. Time to compartmentalize all this destructive touchy-feely shit and get down to business. Which of his three bosses would listen without losing his head and pave the way for him to get busy?
One-Mile finally settled on Hunter, dialing the former SEAL’s number as he turned down the main drag out of his neighborhood. Logan seemed to think he spoke the same language as his older brother. So far, he and the elder Edgington sibling had circled each other. Now he had to hope the younger Edgington hadn’t been blowing smoke up his ass.
“What do you want, Walker? It’s a Saturday. I’m spending it with my wife and son.”
“Unfortunately, unhinged gunmen with an ax to grind don’t work Monday through Friday. And your golden boy, Bryant, didn’t waste any time playing the hero and offering himself up as the sacrificial lamb.”
“What the…” Hunter sounded blazingly pissed as he swallowed a curse. “Kata, take the baby.” After some rustling, heavy footsteps clapped across the hardwood floors. “That goddamn son of a bitch. How long do we have?”
“Less than two hours before time’s up on the gunman’s demands.”
“And the shit hits the fan. Why the hell did the police clue you and not me?”
“They never said dick to me. Brea asked me to intervene.”
“Fuck.” A hundred questions hovered in his expletive, but to Hunter’s credit, he didn’t ask those now. He just cut to the chase. “You think there’s a kill shot to get?”
“I’m on my way to find out. Can you make a few calls, take care of some red tape for me?”
Hunter hesitated. “I could try, but I know who will succeed.”
One-Mile knew exactly who he meant. “Your dad.”
“Bingo. Everyone respects the hell out of the colonel.”
Since One-Mile was in that camp, too, he totally understood Hunter’s reasoning. “Good thought. I’m heading to the scene. Let me know.”