Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 64702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Her eyes go wide. “Why would I do that?”
“Because I want more than the names of who you sold those bullets to. I want inventory of every last bullet stocked in your warehouses.” Alarm slides across her face, and she looked like she might refuse, so I softly add, “We can do this the easy way, Mother, or the hard way.”
She glowers, her gaze skittering to the gun and two knives strapped to my hips, swallowing hard as she inventories how easily I can make good on that ultimatum. Without looking at me, she turns on her heels and marches down the hall, turning to the office on the right that had once been my father’s.
I’m behind her solid mahogany desk by the time she’s on the opposite side. She isn’t doing anything I don’t supervise. I sit and key her MacBook to life.
“Already logged in,” I note, glancing up at her. “I’m ashamed, Mother. You should be more careful.” I point to the visitor’s chair across from me. “Sit.” Her lips purse, but she does as she’s told.
I pull out my gun and set it on the desk, reminding her how easily I can use it, and start typing. A second password screen pops up the instant I type in “Green Hornets.”
“What’s the password?”
“Creed,” she informs me, giving me a go to hell glare.
I don’t miss the implication that she made those bullets to kill me and those like me. She hates me almost as much as I hate her. I type in my name.
The information I need appears on the screen, including storage locations and past shipments, which indicate sales to only one buyer—the U.S. Army, just as she claims.
Or so the sales documents indicate.
“Call your security team. Clear Caleb Rain to pick up a shipment.”
She goes ghost-white. “You won’t get away with this,” she vows.
“Just make the call.”
She makes the call, and the instant she hangs up, I snatch my cell and contact my Renegade team.
“We’ll wait together while they retrieve the bullets,” I tell her. “That way, you can help me clear up any trouble they might run into.”
In the meantime, I want the specs to manufacture those bullets. I return my attention to her MacBook and get to work downloading her data onto a drive.
That’s when my nostrils flare with the scent of sex again and something else that’s familiar. My gaze jerks to hers with realization. It’s Lawrence. Holy hell, it’s the fucking general.
I pick up my weapon and stand. “Get up,” I command. “And take me to him.”
Chapter Thirty
Creed
“Where is he, Mother?” I demand, standing in the center of her bedroom that reeks of Lawrence. She smells of him as well, and it’s killing me to know she’s been with him.
She perches on the edge of the mattress and smirks. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”
“I’m losing patience,” I ground out after wasting valuable time searching for the bastard.
A thin, dark brow arches. “And here I thought you were a man of control, like your father.”
I move my neck from side to side as I draw in a slow, agitated breath. “Make no mistake, Mother,” I say, my tone low and lethal. “I am like my father. And we both know what he would have done if someone crossed him, now, don’t we?”
If Lawrence is still here—and every instinct I own says he is—I’m going to find him. I’ll end this now, once and for all. I’ll fucking force him to tell me where Red Dart can be found. Screw digging through the trenches for his secrets. If I don’t drag it out of him, Julian will.
My cellphone rings, and I answer the call to hear Caleb announce, “We have the bullets. The men are on the outskirts of Sunrise City waiting for us.”
“I’ll catch up,” I say, not about to leave without Lawrence.
Silence. “I’m on the front porch when you’re ready.”
Considering I didn’t tell Caleb I was coming here, I curse silently at being busted. And I know him, just as he knows me. He anticipated how I’d react to finding out my mother is responsible for those bullets injuring our men. He’s trying to keep me grounded. Trying to remind me there are issues at hand bigger than this anger. Bigger than the past.
And he’s right.
I grit my teeth, end the call, and slide my phone into my pocket. With a look of contempt directed at my mother, I start walking, and I don’t stop until I’m on the front porch, where Caleb leans on a banister. “How’s Mommy Dearest?” he asks, all nonchalant, as if him showing up here is not a big deal.
I fold my arms in front of me to keep from punching the damn wall. “Lawrence is fucking my mother. Pretty sure he was here when I arrived, but I couldn’t find him. He has to be underground.”