Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 29744 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 149(@200wpm)___ 119(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29744 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 149(@200wpm)___ 119(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
"Text me the address," I growl to Trick. "I'll be there."
Less than two hours later, I pass through a throng of reporters before pulling up to the security gates at Saunders Management on Music Row. Once the stressed guard figures out who the hell I am and why I'm there, he waves me through, side-eyeing the crowd of reporters as if he suspects one of them may be the shooter. Hell, maybe one of them is. Wouldn't be the first time someone in the media tried to drum up a story by doing something completely mental.
The garage is virtually empty. I pull into a spot near the elevators just as two men and a petite woman step out of the stairwell. I recognize Kasen Alexander on sight. His mug has been plastered all over the place for long enough. The dark-haired giant beside him isn't nearly as famous but is just as recognizable. Cash Jamison, one of the biggest billionaires in the southern United States. Which means the curvy woman at his side is Riley Jamison, his wife. She's been making waves in this town for half a dozen years or longer.
They head my direction.
"Ronan Gallagher?" Cash growls when I step from my truck.
"That's me."
"Hi," Riley says, holding her hand out for me to shake. She smiles, though she looks tense and stressed the fuck out. "I'm Riley Jamison. Thank you for meeting with us on such short notice."
I shake her hand and then quickly step back, not missing the warning look in her husband's eyes. He's territorial, possessive. I know better than to linger where I'm neither welcome nor wanted, and I'm neither of those things in his wife's personal space.
"This is my husband, Cash," Riley says, "and this is Kasen Alexander."
The three of us don't shake hands. We just give each other chin lifts. They're sizing me up, trying to decide if I fit in around here or if I can be trusted to guard Winter. They're protective of her, careful who they let close to her. That's a good sign. It means they're taking this shit seriously.
"Elliot says you were a Ranger," Cash says.
"Yeah. I was on an RRC team."
"An RRC team?" Kasen asks.
"A specialized recon team," I murmur.
"They're one of the most elite teams in the Rangers," Cash says.
Kasen eyes me with his head cocked to the side. "But you lost your whole team two years ago?"
"Kasen!" Riley hisses, smacking him across the chest.
"What?" he growls.
Riley glares daggers at him before turning to me. "You can ignore my idiot friend," she says apologetically, rolling her gray eyes like she's used to dealing with him saying whatever the fuck he wants to say. "He never learned manners."
"It was a valid question," he mutters.
Riley casually elbows him in the ribs. Hard.
He curses, doubling over.
"If he's going to be protecting her, I'd like to know that he's good too," Cash says quietly, though he's looking at me, not his wife. "Two years isn't that long after a loss like that."
"That's what I was saying," Kasen says.
Maybe the comment should piss me off, but it doesn't. It's a valid concern. Two years isn't that long. It's a lifetime and a mere blink at the same time, both far too long and never long enough. I forget their faces but never the charred remains of the village, the sound of their laughter but never the sound of the blast. Two years isn't long at all.
"I'm good," I mutter. It's mostly true. I've been through the program. I make it through every day without snapping. I'm not a danger to myself or anyone else. It's the goddamn nights that still fuck me up, those interminable hours when my subconscious takes over and I have to rewatch the whole damn day from beginning to end. There is no easy cure for those. No amount of group therapy or talking to a shrink to make them magically disappear. I know because I've been there and done that, over and over again. The goddamn nightmares still plague me.
Neither Cash nor Kasen looks entirely convinced.
"I was in the Army for twenty years," I say, crossing my arms. "I was a Ranger for most of that. I've been to every hellhole on this planet. I've trained with every elite fighting force there is to train with and know every weapon there is to know. More importantly, I know exactly what it feels like to be hunted and exactly how to avoid being captured. That's what I was trained to do. If there's a man in this state more prepared to protect your songbird than me, Trick would have sent them. He sent me because he knows I can keep her safe."
Cash and Kasen share a look and then Cash mutters a curse.
"You're the boss, little goddess," he says to his wife. "If you want to hire him, let's hire him."