Total pages in book: 213
Estimated words: 202770 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1014(@200wpm)___ 811(@250wpm)___ 676(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 202770 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1014(@200wpm)___ 811(@250wpm)___ 676(@300wpm)
“Tell me about Walker Security.”
“Started by the Walker brothers. Three of those bastards. All ethical as fuck and tough as nails. Royce is ex-FBI, Luke is ex-SEAL Team Six, and Blake is ex-ATF. Blake’s the hacker everyone in the world, and I do mean world, as in leaders of countries, wants on their job. Aside from that, we have a clusterfuck of ex-everything from CIA, special forces, and every special this, that, and fuck that you can find. The best of the best.”
“And you are?”
“Green Beret. Mercenary. I was an off the grid kind of guy until Blake gave me a reason to stick around. I don’t fuck up and I know how to pull in the resources you need.” He holds his hand up, wiggling fingers at me. “Talk to me.”
Talk to him. Where the hell do I start? My dead brother seems logical and I scrub my jaw and wave to the bartender. “Whiskey Sour. Make sure it’s North Whiskey, gold label.”
“That bad, huh?” Savage asks.
“Does anyone need you when it’s that good?”
“Excellent point,” Savage says. “Excellent fucking point.”
My drink is set on the counter and I motion to a small round booth. “Let’s sit.”
Savage nods and we take a seat. I run down everything with him. The relationship between the families. My father’s death. Emma’s father’s death. The list of targets Emma found and plenty more.
“And your brother died how?”
“An accident or suicide. The investigation was inconclusive but suicide was what ended up on the death certificate. I get the impression they threw accident in there to make us feel better about what happened.”
He asks for details about the “suicide,” gory details that have me ordering another drink. When I finish telling the story, my drink is gone and he’s studying me. “You think he was murdered.”
“I know he was murdered and to complicate matters, I’m now involved with Emma Knight.”
“I got enough information from your former PI to know who that is. So, let me get this straight and I may need another drink to digest this. You think the Knight family did kill your brother, but you’re presently playing touch football in bed with the princess of the Knight Empire?
“That about sums it up.”
He waves to the bartender.
“I’m also now protecting her.” I detail everything that happened at her apartment and my upcoming event that needs proper security in Maine.
When I finish, Savage grimaces. “You do realize she could be playing you, right?”
“She’s not.”
“Said every man who got fucked over by a woman.”
My patience now runs thin. “How much to do everything I need done?”
“A big number, but it will be done right and you’ll get your answers.”
“Expected considering the Maine location and event,” I say. “When can you start?”
“Now. I’ll update you on a full rollout in a couple of hours. I’ll have an invoice emailed to you.”
I reach in my pocket and hand him a card for my email address. “I don’t want anyone to know you’re there. I’ll arrange invites for your team to the Harvest. Just get me names.”
“I need you to detail everyone at the castle and their role. We’ll check them all out.”
“Most importantly,” I say, “Jill is my operations manager. She’s also my brother’s ex-fiancée.”
“And you brought her up because something hits you wrong about her?”
“Something in the way she seemed to want to get me away from here and Emma.”
“We’ll start with a focus on Chance, Randall, Jill, and Emma.” He arches a brow, waiting for me to cut him off for naming Emma. I don’t, but not because I think Emma is guilty of anything. There’s a reason she’s shut out of the family, and I don’t even think she knows what it is, but maybe, just maybe that reason has something to do with all of this.
Savage leans closer. “Emma could become our weakness. Make sure she tells you everything.”
“She has.”
“Speaking from experience, man, she hasn’t. She’s known her family her whole life and you only a few days. Even if she’s your future wife, right now, she doesn’t know that and neither do you. If this is about murder, one misstep could make her the weakness that gets you killed.”
Emma
After inhaling two more pieces of pizza, I grab my father’s journal and sit down on the bed, holding it. Tightly. I don’t want to open it and yet, inside I know there are clues that I dread for the pure logic of what they say about my idol. I’m not a big drinker, but for inspiration, I go to the fridge, pull out the mini bottle of North Whiskey and head back to the bed. I open the lid and down a drink, the burn sliding all the way to my belly. I do it again, starting to feel warm all over. With a deep breath, I open the journal and start reading, page after page, until I finish the bottle. The voice on those pages has me getting another bottle, and by the time I’m ten more pages in, and it’s gone as well, my head is spinning. I lay on my back and rest the open journal on my belly. There are secrets in this journal I don’t understand, but there are things that I do understand.