Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 53862 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 269(@200wpm)___ 215(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53862 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 269(@200wpm)___ 215(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
A mysterious billionaire saved my life.
Now, I owe him.
My team’s job: Save Lyra by any means possible.
My goal: Convince her she’s mine.
Lyra
Music is my world.
Too bad my love life always falls flat.
Maybe a small gig at Danger Bluff is just what I need.
If only that hunky fireman didn’t ooze Daddy vibes.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Prologue
“They’re ready for you, Mr. Duggan,” said the cheery receptionist who sat outside the fire marshal’s office. The smile on her face was all sunshine and roses.
Phoenix was not feeling the sunshine and roses. He was pissed. Besides being quite certain he was about to get fired, he was equally confident he would be arrested by the end of the day.
Phoenix stood, trying hard not to growl at the woman watching him. He wasn’t going to thank her. He didn’t have it in him. He’d been scowling for weeks and wasn’t about to stop now.
After two weeks of unpaid probation, during which Phoenix had basically been under house arrest, he was anxious to get this process moving forward, for better or worse.
The thing that sucked the most was that Phoenix was a damn good firefighter. He loved his job and took pride in it. At least, he had up until about three months ago when someone had decided to start setting fires all over the city and framed Phoenix for the arson.
Worse than that, not one person believed his story—that he was being framed. Even his immediate supervisor and a man he’d considered a close friend until recently, Captain Marks, had expressed his skepticism with regard to Phoenix’s innocence.
Reminding himself to remain calm, he took a deep breath and opened the door.
Jerkins, the fire marshal, and Marks, Phoenix’s captain, sat at a small conference table. They both rose as Phoenix entered.
Jerkins pointed toward the empty seat at the table. “Thank you for joining us. Please, have a seat.”
Marks was fidgeting, looking anywhere but at Phoenix.
Jerkins, on the other hand, looked calm and oddly pleased.
Fuck both of you, Phoenix thought to himself. At least there wasn’t an officer standing in the room with handcuffs out and ready. Small blessing. Phoenix took a seat in the offered chair.
Marks lowered onto his seat, too, busying himself by straightening a file folder in front of him. It wasn’t open, and it was huge. Several inches thick. Phoenix was sure it contained a mountain of evidence that would prove Phoenix was a serial arsonist. Didn’t even fucking matter that it wasn’t true. The evidence was substantial. He was well aware.
Jerkins cleared his throat as he resumed sitting. “Let me begin by expressing our apologies for the hell you must have gone through for the past few months.”
Phoenix lifted a brow but held his tongue. Apologies? Fuck you.
“I’ll get right to the point,” Jerkins continued when Phoenix offered no response to his previous comment. What the hell had the man expected Phoenix to say? Oh, thank you. I feel much better knowing you’re sorry that my entire life has been destroyed, and I’ll probably end up doing thirty to forty behind bars. It makes me feel so much better that you’re sorry.
“There’s been a development,” Jerkins continued. “A man came in this morning with a file of evidence that exonerates you from every incident of arson you were framed for.”
Phoenix stared at him. For several seconds, he simply processed the man’s words in his head. “Pardon?” he asked, his mouth dry.
Marks finally lifted his gaze. “We were wrong. We see that now.”
Phoenix slowly leaned forward in his chair, his spine going rigid as he set his elbows on the table. He stared at Marks and then shifted his gaze to Jenkins. “You’re fucking with me.”
Jenkins shook his head. “No. You’ve been cleared of all crimes. You’re free to return to your job. If you’d like to take some time off first, we’ll give you all the time you need.”
Phoenix glanced at Marks again. “Return to my job?” His heart was racing. He was still struggling to process this unexpected development. “My job?” His voice rose significantly.
Marks flinched and sat taller. “If that’s what you’d like, yes. You’re one of the best firefighters I’ve ever worked with. I’d like to have you back with the company.”
A slow rumble of laughter escaped Phoenix’s mouth. It came from someplace deep. It was ugly and made both men wince. Still laughing sardonically, he rose and wandered to the window to stare out at the city while he processed.
He ran a hand over his short-cropped hair and then down to stroke his recently shaved jaw. Exonerated… “Who?” he asked without turning around.
“Who what?” Jenkins responded.
Phoenix spun to face the men and leaned against the windowsill. He had no interest in sitting. He was antsy. “Who provided you with this sudden influx of evidence?”
Marks flinched. “We don’t know. He didn’t give his name. He simply dropped off this file folder and told us to take care of our internal problems.” Marks patted the giant folder under his palm.
Phoenix stared at the folder with new appreciation. He’d assumed it had been a mountain of evidence proving his own false guilt. Instead, it was apparently a pile of information that proved his innocence. Who the fuck had brought it in, and where had they gotten the data?