Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 55606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Book two in the Shields and Sins series
The better part of valor is often to run.
Jasmine "Smoke" Hoyer has decided it’s safer to run than to fight. Keep her head down and keep it moving. No attachments. No feelings.
Once so deep undercover that the lines between right and wrong had been blurred, she now trusts no one but herself. She’s drawn back into the world of espionage when her past catches up to her.
Lance Baldwin is no stranger to the twists of fate, years of undercover work suddenly hinges on the cooperation of a woman he once wished he would never lay eyes upon again. This case has plunged him in deeper than anything he’d done before. Double crosses, murders, attacks, safe houses being leaked, all lead to one conclusion. There is a mole.
Their forced proximity leads to eye-opening revelations and unquenchable passion. The fragile, budding trust is tested when he has to decide whose side he’s on. Will they still have a shot once the bullets stop flying and the truth is exposed or will it be shattered into pieces?
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Chapter One
The world breaks everyone, and afterward, some are strong at the broken places. ~Ernest Hemingway
San Diego
The sun beat down on him without mercy and one-time decorated Detective Lance Baldwin of the Atlanta PD—now undercover lowlife, mob errand boy rising up the ranks as Lance Beckner—wiped the sweat off his brow and lifted the brown bottle to his lips and drank. The beer wasn’t even cold any longer and he was so close to spitting it out and demanding another. Why? Because that’s what his asshole persona would do.
Day in and day out he’d spiraled down further and further until it had gotten to the point of did he even recognize himself in the mornings when he stood in front of the mirror? His Italian silk suits may remain but he wasn’t remotely close to the man he’d been a year and a half ago when he’d been tapped for this assignment.
And on the few rare moments he was honest with himself, he didn’t think he ever would be again. All he knew was he needed to get out of here and back to his life.
A hand smacked him hard on the back and he didn’t even grunt, aware that was what Michel Jankovic was going for.
The asshole lowered his bulk to the outdoor stool beside Lance and waved for a drink.
“Something happen for you to come seek me out on my time off?” He didn’t get a lot of it and guarded it like a dragon and their treasure.
“Actually, Lance, your time is mine. If you have me on your ass for the next month, you’ll accept it and do so with a goddamn smile.”
Lance put down the bottle and shook his head and he slid from the stool onto his feet. “Wrong. I put up with you showing up on my ass like this purely because I work for your father. Even your old man figures I deserve some time. I mean, how am I supposed to get some pussy when I have your fucking ugly mug shadowing my ass? I don’t do threesomes and you’re definitely not my type.”
Michel didn’t appear all that dissuaded by his soliloquy. He belched and scratched his chest.
“Can’t see at all why having you like a fucking anchor around my neck would hurt. Fuck, you can’t even dress up to respect your father. I’m not looking for a five-dollar whore. I have more class than that and don’t need to spend my days in line at the free clinic getting checked to make sure I’m disease free.”
Lance pulled out a wad of money from his pocket, ripped off two bills, caught the bartender’s gaze and dropped them down. The man nodded at him but didn’t approach. In fact, he continued his conversation with another man.
“Leave me the fuck alone, Michel. I need to get laid with my woman and I’m not offering up classes on how to make sure your partner is satisfied or how to be more than a three-pumper.”
Michel glared. “My women are satisfied.”
Lance leaned close, anger tinging his tone. “You don’t fuck women, you go after children. They can’t speak for themselves.” He inched nearer yet, daring the man to reach for him. “And if they could, they would tell you to stop.”
He spun away, only to pause when a bearpaw clamped down on his arm. Michel was back in his face.
“You don’t approve but you work for my father.”
“Money is one thing but no, I don’t see any reason to fuck a child when there are plenty of women who would even look past your lack of everything because you have money.” He pushed his finger in Jankovic’s chest. “Do not grab me again.”
Lance walked off, aware he was making himself a target, inviting Michel to attack. When the attack didn’t happen he was almost equal parts surprised and not at the result. Michel was a hothead and was well-known for losing his temper and beating people into little balls of pulp. Or having his bodyguards do it for him.
However he was also, and rightfully so, scared to fucking death of his old man. Lance had busted his ass to get to where he was. He hated it. And did so with every fiber of his being, but he had a job to do and he was going to continue doing it so he could bring this human trafficking empire down.
Burn it so not a single person in the family would ever think they could get away with it again in their life. Instill the fear of God, or the Devil, into them and make them shiver whenever his name was whispered.
A couple of blocks later he walked up to a different bar and ordered a drink. Nodding at the bartender, he made his way to one of the outdoor tables and took a seat beneath the brightly colored umbrella.