Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 102578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
“I can’t hear you!” Colt’s booming voice carried all across the quarry, the echoes bouncing off the cliff walls. “One more time!”
“We will do what Sadists say!” the brats chanted. “They will always make us pay!”
“It’s like being back in the service,” Greer chuckled.
“Right?” I stubbed out my smoke and shut the last hard case of equipment.
Colt’s station was over once he deemed a brat sweaty enough. Depending on a sub’s limits, he’d either throw them off the cliff and into the water, or they’d jump on their own.
Noa had been literally swung off the cliff, Colt holding his feet, one of the spotters holding his arms.
So far, only one sub had safeworded red, but he’d changed his mind a while later and eventually made the jump together with his Master. No yellows so far, however a few calling out blue because the anticipation and not knowing became too much.
“All clear!” I heard KC yell. Poor bastard was one of the two spotters in the water making sure the next jumper wouldn’t land on top of anyone.
I felt like shit for having harbored doubts about KC’s responsibility in the water, when in reality, it was because of his partial paralysis that he’d become one of our strongest swimmers. Lucian would fret and fuss the moment KC was back on land—and would probably force KC to use his wheelchair—but not a minute sooner.
“You should probably take off if you wanna get there in time,” Greer told me. “I’ve got this.”
I nodded. “I’ll be back in about thirty minutes.”
“Please wrestle down a few extra hard for me,” he said.
I smirked and retied my boots. “For you? Anything.”
Once I was out of the sand, I took off in a jog and veered right, away from the beach, away from the meetup point, away from the cliff where brats were being tossed into the water.
I’d known about this place for a while. It was privately owned property—a former work buddy of River and Reese—but we hadn’t found a good event to host here until now. But maybe next summer, we could come here again. The guaranteed seclusion made it perfect for kinky barbecues and outdoor playtime.
It was during one of our countless safety checks that we’d come across what we now called the mud field. The tiny lake at the bottom of the quarry was shaped like a bean, and a huge chunk of rock concealed the other curve of the water. But a quick run up the rocky side, then a jog downhill, brought me to that other bend—and a beach that wasn’t a beach. The water was so shallow in this end that all it did was create a permanent patch of mud. About thirty feet wide and twenty feet long, the mud made for an excellent wrestling ground. It was like sinking down into thick, semi-wet cement.
The rocky ground underneath the mud, about a foot deep, however, was highly fucking unpleasant to step on, so everyone was gonna have to sacrifice their shoes and boots and get muddy. The only one facing a problem there was me, to my knowledge, because Tate didn’t own a single pair of shoes he didn’t love.
I hoped it infuriated him.
A couple other Tops were already prepared to buy new shoes for their brats.
That’s what I got for dating a man like Tate.
His ICE contact in his phone might as well be Nordstrom Rack.
I cocked my head as I started my descent when I heard hushed voices down the hill. It had to be the first group.
“Can this really be right?” That was Kit.
“There’re torches along the way, so I’m assuming yes,” Noa responded. “I bet we’re almost there.”
I picked up the pace, and it didn’t take me long to run past the four boys.
“Little ones. I see you’re having a nice, slow stroll.”
There was something about being cursed out by bratty hellions. They reminded me of the yapping little toy poodle my grandmother had cherished more than my grandpa.
Corey called me an old dickwad, whatever that meant.
“My legs are much shorter, idiot!” Noa yelled.
“If you put as much effort into running as you did into slinging cheap excuses, you’d be a lot faster!” I hollered over my shoulder.
“Arrgh! I totally get what Tate said now.”
I laughed and continued down the slope.
The run was plain comfort for me. Wet utility pants made for ice-cold legs, and now I finally had some circulation again. It was nice.
At the bottom of the hill, River and Reese came into view. They were on the other side of the mud field. Three tripods with cameras were set up to capture the event, and a laptop rested on a single cooler to the side. That was where the twins were working on something.
“We good to go?” I called. “First group’s here.”
Reese straightened up and turned to us. “Almost there. We seem to have lost the sound back at the house, but we think we’ve figured out the problem.”