Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 147789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
Aaron probably didn’t understand how badly they were using him. He was a genius in his field, but young enough that he still had that youthful idealism about him. No doubt he’d believed he could make the world a better place and proved that fact when he’d gone over a closed case file, found a problem, and made calls on Christmas Eve to everyone involved.
His brother Derek had that same way about him, too. Man, he missed his brother.
Instant grief blanketed Kreed, gnawing at the raw void in his heart. He’d spent Christmas at home with his parents for the first time in years to help ease the burden of this being the first holiday without his little brother. Yeah, that sucked on every level. His pop had already been in his late thirties when Kreed had been born thirty-eight years ago. His brother was twelve years younger than him. Derek had come as a surprise and no matter how old he’d gotten, everyone always considered him the baby of the family. God, that kid was so loved.
The loss had taken a major toll on his family. Kreed could see the decline in his parents since the Marines had informed them of Derek’s death. Damn if grief wasn’t a bitch to deal with.
For Kreed, his true problem lay in all the unanswered questions and the refusal to release information about the cause of Derek’s death. He knew that secretive side of military too well, probably better than anyone. Their refusal to provide any real information had him questioning everything and suspecting the worst.
Honestly, the whole thing just sucked balls. He fought the anger forming. There was more to the story than what his parents were told. He stopped the monotonous flip of the knife, grabbing the hilt of the blade a little aggressively as he moved his free hand to rub a palm across his aching heart.
The possibilities of what caused his brother’s death… “Stop, Sinacola,” he growled and mentally forced himself to quit thinking about all the inaccuracies, anything to keep from going to that dark place deep inside his soul. Nothing would be gained from him losing his shit right now.
Lifting his head, he looked for something to focus on, anything to help keep him on a level playing field so he could tie this case up for Knox. A weather alert beeped loudly on the TV and the information began to run across the top of the screen. The weather… Okay, he’d think about the weather.
Thank God he wasn’t sitting in an airport somewhere waiting out the storm. Somehow, on his trip from San Antonio, he’d just managed to bypass the storm blanketing the Southeast. Connors and his family were in one of the Carolinas visiting family for the holiday. Aaron was traveling from Miami. Both men were en route and most likely stuck in that icy mess.
From what he’d heard—and the best he could tell—the storm was fast-moving. Good thing, because the Southern states weren’t equipped to deal with the extreme cold weather. Hopefully, the temperatures would rise quickly tomorrow, but for now, it was enough to be a major pain in the ass for travelers.
Once it had become apparent they weren’t working on the case today, Special Agent Brown had done the standup thing and invited Kreed over for dinner. That had been a nice team-oriented gesture. Kreed appreciated the thought, but it was the holidays, and Brown had a house full of small kids… Kreed again crinkled his nose at the thought. Yeah, that just seemed torturous as hell, so he had respectively declined with a straight up hell-fucking-no and ended that with a loud bark of laughter. Good thing Brown had a sense of humor—that being the key difference between Brown and his partner, Special Agent Connors, who would have taken great offense to his invitation being so rudely declined.
All in all, seeing Connors get upset would have been kind of fun to watch, too. Connors’s straight-laced, by-the-book, goodie-two-shoes persona just drew guys like him and Mitch to the task of rattling his chain any chance they got.
Kreed’s cellphone started playing Justin Timberlake’s “SexyBack,” alerting him to a call from Mitch Knox. Mitch had assigned the song to himself when he was going through his Timberlake-slash–Flo Rida phase.
Looking down at the phone, Kreed paused. He’d been waiting for this call. All agents were under strict orders not to tell Mitch about the latest development in the case. The guy had been placed on mandatory leave for the time being, and Kreed had received a very private message from their director stating he’d be reassigned to a new partner as soon as this detail was complete. He figured that meant they were just waiting to tell Mitch he was on desk duty from this point forward. That caused another little ache to trickle across his heart.
Mitch had to see this coming, but his buddy had a way about him. He could change minds when he chose to, but Kreed didn’t think that would work this time. Mitch had been directly targeted by the people they were investigating, and his lover, Cody Turner, had been shot at point blank range as a message to Mitch. Only a freak occurrence had Cody surviving the vicious attack. At this point, Mitch was a liability to anyone he worked with in the field, but Kreed hadn’t wanted to be the one to tell his best friend he’d be becoming a suit if he wanted to continue being a deputy marshal.
Yeah, like having Mitch Knox in an office all day was ever going to work out for anyone involved. Kreed huffed a laugh and pushed that thought from his overactive head too. He didn’t want to think about all that right now either. Instead, he let the phone ring four times before he answered. Mitch Knox hated waiting for anything, and Kreed loved pushing his buttons. Kreed grinned as he swiped his finger over the screen to accept the call.