Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
The assignment is simple.
Don't let the client get kidnapped.
Don't let someone kill her.
Don't confess that I've secretly been in love with her since we first met.
It's the last part that complicates what would otherwise be a fairly routine operation.
Well, that along with having to move said client aka my best friend into my penthouse because pretending to be a couple is now part of our cover.
All of these things make my mission significantly harder.
As does her ex boyfriend who just so happens to be our boss.
As does my partner who gets a kick out of making things uncomfortable for me.
As does my best friend herself when she has us crossing a line we can't uncross.
To the company I work for, my main objective is to stop an unidentified threat from eliminating one of their most valuable assets.
But to me?
My only job is to protect the love of my life - or die trying.
(This is book 1 of a duet. The story will conclude in book 2, Shockproof)
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Chapter 1
Slater
There are people in this world who jump out of planes for their country.
Others who do it for work.
Some who simply do it for fun.
Me?
I’m one of those rare individuals who’s done it for all three.
But currently?
There’s an R&R contract – Rescue and Recovery – with the company I work for – Haworth Enterprises – that requires a certain willingness to plummet from the aforementioned aircraft into the coldest depths of the ocean.
I’ve done it to help rescue astronauts from water landings.
Why wouldn’t I do it now to save a child that’s being held for ransom?
A playful grin glides onto my face at the same time I lock eyes with Khary Blumel, my second for the mission as well as one of my best friends. “You ready, Blu?”
“Why do you look so fucking excited?” His caramel-colored forehead scrunches in irritation at the same time his voice bites through my state-of-the-art, waterproof ear com. “No motherfucker should be that excited to jump out of a plane, Wahl!”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” Arrogant chortles are launched into the air. “Every asshole should be this fuckin’ excited to jump out of a plane, Blu.” One cocky wink is wedged between sentences. “See you down there.”
Without another word, I shove the mouthpiece in place, take a step backward, offer a two-finger wave, and then jump.
My lack of looking before I leap is what I call style.
And where’s the fun in life without a little bit of that shit?
Plunging into the deep, frigid waters is about the level of exhilarating that I was expecting. On one hand, the uncharacteristically low temp for October would be enough to make my balls retreat for being put in such hostile fucking territory if they could actually feel it – shout out to the tactical tech team for creating such an amazing suit that they can’t – but then again, on the other hand, water this cold is the type of shit that’s good for the soul.
Cleanses it of the laziness that comes from working on the chiller side of shit better known as PS – Private Security – and then buffs out whatever remains of the complacency in order to make an actual fucking difference in this world.
And don’t get that shit tangled.
Rescuing children – regardless of who their fucking parents are – always makes a difference.
It sure as hell did for me.
And I believe with every ounce of my heart, it will for those I’ve helped return home.
Most only take R&R assignments if the price tag going in is high, then even higher once you’ve returned the target; however, me and Blu live by a different set of standards. If the mission involves rescuing a child – in any fucking way – we’re in.
Not kidnap.
Not transport.
Not exchange.
Just. Rescue.
Does it always pay as well as some of the other avenues?
No.
Does the reward of returning an innocent victim back to somewhere they belong outweigh the other bullshit?
Every. Fucking. Time.
Blu’s eventual arrival nearby signifies that it’s time to start moving. In tandem, we lower ourselves back below the undulating surface and begin to swim north for the beachside territory we need to infiltrate. Unlike when I sporadically take a couple days off to snorkel and surf and submerge myself in sex on the beach with a beautiful lady who has been drinking a sex on the beach, I ignore the alluring colors. Disregard the hypnotic blue magic and mysterious creatures calling to me to come play, to investigate more about them than the eye can merely see. I swiftly glide through the water, effortlessly crossing the miles of space we need to cover in great time.
Not record breaking though.
That number is still attached to my maroon beret.