Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 142939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 715(@200wpm)___ 572(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 715(@200wpm)___ 572(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
She jumps onto it and turns it toward the hangar door.
I make a split-second decision. With a jump, I lunge for her and tackle her from the board. She screams as I turn and cradle her in my arms, cushioning her with my body as we hit the concrete floor.
It knocks the breath out of me, and she fights like a cat, screaming and writhing in my arms. I roll her over, pinning her to the floor. She’s warm beneath me, her body made for mine.
“Let go! Get off me!”
But I don’t let her go. Even though I taste blood from my busted nose and one of my ribs might be broken–I’m never letting her go.
5
OCEAN
Vane keeps me pinned under him. In the few times I’ve met him, I noticed he was a big man. With him on top of me, he feels twice the size I recall. It didn’t go unnoticed that when he tackled me, he wrapped his body around mine to make sure he took the brunt of the fall onto the concrete floor.
Oh, it felt like concrete, but I’d bet my life it is some high-tech flooring that’s filled with pressure sensors. It’s why I hoped the board would get me inside and buy some time before it set any alarms off.
I don’t know who is breathing harder, him or me. Vane could fit in with the Predict Six if they suited him up in their gear. The team has been in a few meetings I was dragged into by Buffy. I hate when she does that to me.
Buffy knows exactly how to sink her claws into me. Flashing pictures of women and children that need to be saved. Ones that I could help. She targets my weak spot to get what she wants. Knowing damn well that I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t assist the helpless who needed a hand.
The weight of it can be overwhelming, but then guilt always gets me. How did I get tossed into the foster system with such gifts as mine? Did I waste that all on my silly projects in my warehouse, or did I do what I thought was the right thing?
The Predict Six are the real assassination team for America. Sure, they show you a group of Marines and tell you that they’ve taken out an atrocious leader, but really it was the Predict Six. Whoever they flashed across your screen weren’t the real people behind the mission. They are just the faces they want you to see.
Few people know who they are. I don’t even know their names. Even in meetings, their faces are often covered in black masks with only their eyes showing. I could only make out that at least one of them is a female. A tiny thing but I bet that’s part of her surprise when it comes to the enemy. They probably underestimate her and she uses it against them.
Magic might know more about them or be able to find out additional information but it’s not something I’d ask her unless needed. I don’t always agree with some things our government did, but the Predict Six did what a lot of us couldn’t. I’m happy I don’t have to make those decisions.
They are a bonded team. That’s something I can relate to. As long as they stay in line, I’m not putting my nose where it doesn’t belong, and I have a feeling they think the same.
This is why I need Rebel. She is my team. But she can’t be rolling around on a hard floor while she’s knocked up. Vane would never have gotten the drop on her, but she couldn’t have found the panel as quickly as I did. I know it’s crazy, but when I simply touch a machine, everything about it starts to bleed into me. Thoughts of what I would do if it was mine and I crafted it myself almost overwhelm me. It doesn’t take me long to find what I'm searching for typically.
I’d been so lost in the beauty of the drone and focused on wanting to know everything about it that I hadn't seen Vane. Honestly, I didn’t think it would be him I would come up against but one of his security.
“Motherfucker,” I hiss in realization. There hadn’t been much security at all, which could only mean one thing.
“Are you hurt?” he asks me.
“You’re dripping blood on me, and I can’t get this dry-cleaned.” I glare up at him. Vane smirks, the blood dripping down his nose not bothering him in the least. It doesn’t help that my fucked-up brain thinks he’s even hotter now.
“I’ll replace it. Pretty sure it’s my technology. I could upgrade it for you if you’d like.”
“Upgrade?” Is there something new? Wait, I remind myself to stay on task here. “It was your very basic design already, but I’ll take what you got.” I smirk right back up at him. “Obviously I made a few improvements.” I can’t help but go in for a small jab. I’m sure it’s my ego. At least I can admit that.