Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 65108 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65108 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
“Enjoy it.” He hugs me close. “And let any of us know if you need anything.”
“Thank you. I won’t.”
“Stubborn woman.”
“Independent.” I poke him in the ribs, making him wince. “I’m an independent woman.”
“So you are. And a bully at that.”
“You deserved it.”
Chapter 5
~Liam~
Gunfire.
“Retreat! Retreat, goddamn it!”
They can’t hear me. My men are sitting ducks in the middle of the street, being picked off by snipers one at a time.
“Adams!” I scream his name, but my second-in-command can’t hear me. He looks around as if trying to find something, panic in his eyes. “I’m right here, damn it! Adams, get those men behind that building!”
He doesn’t respond, doesn’t follow my orders. Before my eyes, each of them dies, one by one until I’m the last one standing.
I run behind the building, and suddenly, there’s Adams. He’s talking fast.
“They’ve got snipers up on the top of the buildings,” he says.
“I know. We can’t get past them. It’s going to be a massacre.”
“We’ve got more firepower,” he insists. “We need to point up and keep firing until we get down the street.”
“It’s a suicide mission.”
Didn’t we just do this? What’s happening?
“I’m scared,” a private by the name of Beller says to the man next to him. “I have to tell my mom I love her.”
“There’s no time,” Adams says. “We’re going now. There’s no time to waste.”
“Don’t go,” I insist. “Do not do this. You’ll die. I’m telling you, you’ll die.”
It’s as though they can’t hear me. Again. Why the fuck won’t they listen?
They run away, and I hear the gunfire again. The screams. The cries.
I shoot up in bed, panting and dripping in sweat. The sheet is tangled around my legs. I barely free myself fast enough to hurry into the bathroom, where I heave until my stomach is empty.
I fucking hate the nightmares. Adams didn’t die in that firefight when it happened.
But yesterday morning, he put the business end of a Sig Sauer P320 in his mouth and pulled the trigger. In the note, he said the nightmares were too much, the meds weren’t helping, and he couldn’t deal anymore.
He left behind a young wife and a two-year-old daughter.
“Fuck.” I splash cold water on my face, rinse my mouth, and then stare at myself in the mirror. It’s been almost ten years since that horrible day, and the nightmares have been less frequent. When I sleep, that is.
But Adams offing himself was a hard blow. It’s been chewing at me since I received the call yesterday.
I need a run. The sun isn’t up yet as I throw on some running gear, grab my bear spray, and jog down to the kitchen where my night shift guy, Aaron Reynolds, keeps watch on the perimeter cameras.
“Anything happening?” I ask.
“It’s quiet. A couple of raccoons were on the driveway a while ago, but other than that, not much going on.”
“Good. I’m going for a run. I won’t be more than an hour.”
Reynolds nods, and I take off through the back door and head down the path that connects to the trail system the city of Cunningham Falls laid about ten years ago. I’ll go a short seven miles today, just enough to burn off some of this grief and energy.
Not to mention the sexual tension. Now that Charles and Nick are gone, accompanying Sebastian and Nina to Africa, I’m pretty isolated with Ellie. Which means I’ll have an easier time of being with her.
But that’s also bad because Ellie isn’t the kind of woman that you fuck a few times and then go on your merry way. No, she’s the type that sticks. I’ve always sworn that the sticking type isn’t for me.
Yet I’ll be damned if I can stay away from her. My blood runs thick when she’s around, and my dick seems to have a mind of its own. She’s just so damn beautiful.
And sweet. And everything good.
The pavement is even under my feet, the air brisk. Despite the heat during the day, Northwest Montana still cools off nicely once the sun goes down.
I push myself harder and faster, making my heart rate rise, and my breaths come quicker. The rush of blood in my ears drowns out the last of the gunfire from the nightmare. The sky starts to lighten from black to grey, and I decide it’s time to turn back toward the house.
Cunningham Falls is sleepy this morning, with only a few vehicles out and about, manned by those going to work for the early shift. A paperboy rides his bike past me, tossing papers onto porches.
It makes me smile. In most of the modern world, people read the news on their phone or tablet. But here in this little town, a daily newspaper is still delivered.
I like it.
I’m dripping in sweat again as I slow my pace and head down the path to the house. Movement on the dock near the boathouse catches my attention, and I veer that way to check it out.