Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 99040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
“Hundred percent.”
“And no one saw?”
“Nope. Don’t worry, Jo. Easiest shit I’ve done in a while.”
Well, she didn’t believe that, but she’d rest assured knowing no one else would be dying from Lobo’s laced drugs. And that Lock could return home soon, hopefully with the baby.
“Perfect,” she whispered, relaxing once again. Well, as much as she could. Where the hell was the nurse with that pain medicine?
“Almost perfect,” he said with a wry grin.
“Oh?”
He nodded. “One last very important thing to take care of.”
“Wh…” Andrew. “Oh. Don’t kill him.”
“Huh?” His eyebrows drew down.
“Andrew,” she said. “Please don’t kill him. And don’t let one of your brothers do it. I know something needs to be done about him, but we’ll think of a plan. You can’t kill a cop. It’s not worth it.” Her voice took on a note of hysteria.
Tracker kissed her. “Shh. First of all, anything that keeps you safe is worth it, including killing that man and any who threaten you, regardless of his profession. But I get it, and if you want him alive, we’ll come up with another plan, though I wasn’t referring to Andrew when I said one more thing needed to be done to make life perfect.”
One more thing? What did he mean? Oh?
His face hovered only a few inches from hers. “Jolene Baker, I love you. Whether you’re a beauty queen or a cop or a fucking shit shoveler. You’re tough, and you’re brave, and you kick ass. But you’re also sweet as fucking sugar. My family can’t get enough of you. I want you by my side every minute of every day. I’m head over fucking heels in love with you. And I will never waste another day not telling you.”
“Tracker,” she whispered as his words chased all her pain away. “I love you too. I never thought I’d find a man who saw me for more than my sashes and tiaras, but you’ve given me a life I love. One I want to experience for the rest of my days. God, I love you.”
He kissed her with more force this time. She ignored the sting of her cuts and kissed him back with everything she had. When they broke apart, they rested their foreheads together.
“A shit shoveler?” she whispered.
Tracker laughed. “I meant it.”
Her laughter joined his before they kissed again.
And that was how the nurse found them, followed immediately by her brothers, who refused to be held back any longer.
Jo sighed. Guess the cat was out of the bag. Earning her family’s approval would be damn near impossible, but where she’d been dreading this moment for so long, she found herself not caring about their opinion.
She loved Tracker, and they could take it or leave it.
He’d become the most important person in her life and would stay that way until her last breath.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
HE’D MADE A promise, and by extension, so did his entire club. At least, that’s what Jo informed him. Spec took the news hardest. He’d wanted to shed Andrew’s blood almost as much as Tracker did. The man got a little squirrelly if he didn’t inflict violence every so often. But as Jo had been the one harmed by Andrew, Spec and the rest of the club agreed to go along with her plan.
And that didn’t involve Andrew’s death.
Unfortunately.
Locating the asshole turned out to be easy as fuck when they tapped into Copper’s contact across the country. The guy who’d helped find Jo during the hurricane, Acer was his name, had tracked down Andrew almost before they’d hung up the phone. Acer’s hacking skills proved to be better than anyone the police department had on staff. According to Jo, they were still frantically searching for their missing colleague, who they assumed had been injured or killed in the hurricane.
As it turned out, the idiot had been holed up in his actual cabin on the Alafia River, not half a mile from where he’d tried to kill Jo. The cabin was in his late mother’s maiden name, which Tracker assumed was the reason the police hadn’t stumbled upon it yet.
Christ, how Tracker wanted the bastard to ‘fall’ into the river and end up dinner for a congregation of alligators.
“Doing okay, baby?” he asked Jo as Jinx navigated the truck to Andrew’s cabin. They’d decided to pay the man a surprise visit to enact Jo’s master plan.
She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes, dulled by pain. “I’m good.” If she didn’t stop trying to play the hero and admit how much she hurt, he was likely to start drugging her coffee. The woman refused to take anything stronger than a Motrin despite the sweat on her brow, the set of her jaw, and her unusually pale complexion.
Something had to be done to get her to take some pain medication. As she’d told him no less than ten times since being discharged from the hospital two days ago, she didn’t want to appear weak.