Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 74315 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74315 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
-Life Lesson
Miller
One week later
“Wow, I’m surprised you graced us with your presence,” James drawled.
James was the resident sniper for the SWAT team, and a really good guy…most of the time. Right now he just pissed me off.
I was in a bad mood. Probably overthinking the last thing Mercy had asked me to do as I walked out last night. To her. For her.
Something that I thought about all night long, and kept thinking about since the moment I woke up from what little sleep I was able to get.
“Fuck off,” I said, lacing up my boots.
So I’d been spending a lot of time with Mercy. Big fucking whoop. He spent a lot of time with his own wife and kids, yet you didn’t see me giving him shit about it.
“Somebody’s grouchy this morning. Who pissed on your bran muffin?” Foster drawled as he practically fell into the seat beside me.
He looked tired. Which I guess was normal for a man that stayed out so late that he was home after the streetlights went off for the morning.
He did have a nice smile on his face, though.
“Pissed in your Corn Flakes,” I corrected him.
“Whatever,” he muttered as he started yanking his clothes out of his locker and shrugging into them.
“Did you really wear no shirt or shoes up here?” Luke, the team captain, asked as he walked into the room already dressed.
“Sho’ nuff’,” Foster confirmed.
Luke just shook his head and turned his gaze on me.
“How’s our girl doin’?” He asked curiously.
I smiled. Mercy had become quite the popular girl among the SWAT team.
She’d practically been everywhere that I had for the past week, and she’d come to be a part of the team.
Well, not the team, because I sure as fuck would never let that happen, but she’d become an add-on to me.
Where I went, she went, and vice versa…when we were off, that was.
Her parents had just returned last night from their Caribbean cruise, so I assumed that’d slack off, which made me unexplainably sad.
We’d literally spent every waking moment that we weren’t working together, and it’d kind of suck if her time with me was stolen away.
Yes, call me selfish, but I was really taking a liking to having her around.
“What the hell are we doing here so early? What the fuck is wrong with nine in the morning instead of six?” Bennett, another member of the SWAT team, grumbled as he walked in the door.
“The problem with that is that we need team hours, and that can’t be done by ten if we start at nine. Not to mention the place we’re going to has to open late to let us have the place to ourselves,” Luke snapped.
“What the hell is your problem?” Downy asked as he followed closely behind Bennett.
Downy was our hostage negotiator, and damn good at his job. Oh, he was good at the SWAT part of it, too, but not like he was at negotiating.
The man was a natural at what he did, and if he could talk the situation down instead of us having to use force to get inside, then that was a good thing in my book.
I didn’t want to put my life on the line if I didn’t have to.
“Where are we going, anyway?” John asked from his position in the corner of the room. “I left my nice, cozy bed with my sleepy, soft wife in it for the first Saturday I’ve had off in a month to be here. It better be good.”
John was our computer expert. He participated in all the drills, and kept up his part of the training, but he didn’t participate in the SWAT operations unless he was needed, instead staying in the truck to work his mojo magic with his computer.
He was also newly married. As in, last week newly married.
Which had surprised not just us, but the entire department. Mainly because he’d married a young rookie cop that’d been out of the academy for less than a month.
She was cute, though, and they were happy. Who was I to say anything to the contrary?
“You’ll see. Get in the truck, boys,” Luke said cryptically.
We arrived at Extreme Paintball less than thirty minutes later, and every one of us had a grin on our face.
“Fuck yeah, that’s what I’m talking about,” Foster said as he got out of the truck first.
“This counts as team time?” Bennett grinned, hopping out of the truck and walking towards the front door.
The place was massive, and all indoor.
I’d heard about the place, but had never stepped foot inside.
There hadn’t been enough time.
The first month I’d gotten stateside, I’d applied at a few locations that had SWAT teams, but, in the end, had been recruited by Luke to become a part of Kilgore SWAT team.
Once I’d attended the academy, I’d immediately started the normal every day work of a patrol officer in the Kilgore area. Then had gone through training.
From there, I’d had a lot of busy things to do, such as getting a house, fixing up the house, taking care of the property, and spending time with my family.
A family that I’d neglected in the eight years I’d been a Navy SEAL.
No to mention that Foster got out only two weeks after I had, deciding with me that it was time. Especially after how the last mission had ended.
Which was horribly, but that wasn’t something I should be thinking about right now. Not when we were about to go into a paintball place and play for fun. My mind didn’t need to go to those dark places again.
There was a time and a place for that, and there needed to be whiskey. Lots and lots of fucking whiskey.
Something that they didn’t allow if the sign on the door was any indication.
Michael’s hand came down hard on my back, snapping me out of my thoughts like a cold hand clutching the beating heart from my chest.
I reacted on instinct, going down low and sweeping my leg out.
However, he must’ve been ready for my reaction because he jumped up and out, missing my sweeping foot, and then the follow-up uppercut with practiced ease.