Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 61149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
“That means that’s where our girl is!” Kid prematurely flies to a better sitting position. “Let’s go get her!”
“Calm down, Superboy,” our attorney quickly insists. “We can’t just storm the grounds – the icy grounds by the way – of the property, halfcocked. We need a plan-”
“The plan is rescue her!”
“That’s not a plan,” Garcia corrects. “That’s an objective.”
Irritation shoots from my future husband prompting me to rest my palm on his thigh once more. “Breathe, Kid.” The glare I’m given is immediately returned. “Now.”
He sucks in a sharp breath, ultimately whimpering through the agony.
“That,” I calmly reiterate. “That is why we need a plan.”
His body gingerly reclines back to its previous position.
“We’re tryin’ to minimize the risks of injuries and potential loss of our lives.”
“I’d like Garcia alive at least until he delivers my snacks,” Zero comments, face in the camera, fingers flying across the keys.
“Touched,” my best friend states on a snarky smirk.
“You may wanna get that plan into cheetah speed,” advises the computer lead at the same time he looks into the camera again. “Fyght or Flyght just finished filing a flight plan for that exact location.”
Chapter 22
Kipp
Unfathomable frustration rips through my tone, “Why don’t we have more guns?”
Nolan doesn’t pause his tool tossing to answer. “’Cause this isn’t your favorite movie of all time.”
Garcia quietly chuckling pushes my irritation over to him. “And why don’t you have more ammo for the one you’ve got?”
“Perhaps because I’m not in my car but Zero’s.”
The answer – while understandable – fails to calm my frazzled nerves. “So, they’ve got our girl, more guns and definitely more manpower than we do.” I fold my arms firmly across my chest, doing my best not to wince at the pain it conjures. “Fucking. Fantastic.”
“At least you’re using full words again,” teases the man I’m a little less concerned about now that I’ve witnessed his “Sir” side come out for someone.
And I get it.
Zero has the same vibe to him that his bike does.
Exceptional.
My type?
No.
Still.
One in a few ever made is the style he revs.
“Not sure those last two are true, Woods,” Post unexpectedly announces upon his strolling into the garage.
“What are you doin’ here?” Surprise has my head slightly tilting to one side. “I don’t remember Nolan calling you.”
“I did,” my fiancé promptly clarifies.
“This is my town, Woods,” he casually informs on a crooked grin. “Of course, I’mma answer the call to help protect it.” Before I have a chance to ask any more questions, he gestures to other faces, I wasn’t expecting to see. “And so are they.”
Garcia and Nolan both halt their actions to join me in assessing the new arrivals.
“Mornin’,” warmly greets Norm Cotterell prior to adjusting his hunting rifle Suzie bragged about snagging him for Christmas this year. “Heard our town has a little trouble that needs to go.”
“And I heard you found the man responsible for giving my girl Posie a bad scare,” states the well put together, almond beige skinned male that joins his other side.
Seeing Paolo fills me with unanticipated pride.
Glad the man Posie’s picked has a pair.
She deserves that.
For all that she’s done for our girl, for all that she’s done for us, I’m glad she finally has someone willing to strap in and go the distance for her.
“And I heard…” begins a voice I barely recognize, “you’re dealin’ with my kind.” The muscular male dressed in all black places himself in line beside Post at the same time he shoots me a shy grin. “Long time no see, Woods.” It’s impossible to ignore the swipe of his lips his tongue takes. “Too long.”
“Those are come fuck me eyes,” jovially pokes Garcia.
Bewilderment immediately pushes my brow down. “Brax?”
“Little November?” echoes Nolan during his relocating to the situation.
“Jus’ November now, sir,” he politely corrects while offering his palm for shaking.
“Nolan,” my grumbly protector insists as they clasp palms. Once they’re grips split, he wraps his arm around my shoulder and states, “Sorry about your old man. Would’ve said somethin’ to you day of the funeral but…” He innocently shrugs. “You weren’t around.”
“I was on an assignment.” His sun kissed chin kicks a little higher into the air. “Contact for non-mission reports was prohibited.”
“Marine?” questions Garcia alongside his arrival beside me.
“Former, sir,” retorts the retired soldier I hate myself a little for imagining looked pretty damn good in his uniform. “I now work in the private sector.” His open palm is extended towards our attorney. “Braxton November.”
“Victor Garcia.”
Post their cordial gesture, he returns his attention to my partner. “I hate that I wasn’t around to bury him. I hate that he had to be buried too soon even more.” His crystal glare darkens. “I appreciate the opportunity to aid in delivering a bit of justice that the law could not.”
A smug smirk is attached to our sheriff announcing, “Little November here-”