Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 125248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
God gave him work running errands for the team. Grocery pickups, mail deliveries, lunch runs. Simple things that all of them paid generously for. And it didn’t take long before that kind, nervous kid had every hardened man on the task force wrapped around his finger.
Especially Green. Ruxs pretended not to be just as affected, but it was amazing the way they both watched over Curtis too.
When Curtis was seventeen, his mother died, and Ruxs and Green had adopted him without a second thought.
By some miracle God didn’t understand, Curtis grew up gentle and good despite his fathers being two fucking mad men.
“Fine. But if anything happens to Curtis while he’s out here, you’re on your own with his dads.
Day grimaced.
The door beeped after a keycard was scanned…and speak of the devil.
Ruxs and Green walked in carrying the kind of tension that told God the situation had been worse than their initial reports suggested.
Behind them was Xander Vale.
On the star’s six was Morrison and Steele.
Tech and Free rose from their chairs at the same time.
For a moment, they both forgot every professional bone in their bodies as they stared in wonder at the-fucking-Xander-Vale standing in his hotel suite at four in the morning.
God couldn’t blame the way everyone was watching him.
He wasn’t polished in the fabulous way his films made him appear or when he walked the red carpet. Not tonight.
Tonight he looked like a regular guy, wrung out in a way sleep alone wouldn’t fix.
His round, hairless cheeks held almost no color, his skin appearing even more pale beneath the black ball cap he had pulled low over his forehead.
His blue eyes were rimmed red, too wide and alert. His mouth was pressed tight as though he was holding a sob back with his teeth, and faint tremors moved through his hands despite the way he tried to hide them inside his jean’s pockets.
A tight pull of sympathy tugged at God’s chest.
Him and his team dodged death so often that sometimes he forgot what it did to people who weren’t built for it.
Xander wasn’t a cop or military, he was an entertainer.
And this was the second time in a couple of weeks that he’d narrowly escaped death.
Wes and Law hadn’t exaggerated, their friend was in serious danger.
LA law enforcement wasn’t going to provide twenty-four-hour private protection for a movie star, no matter how beloved he was, and the studio’s security had failed him twice.
Morrison didn’t have enough reliable manpower to cover both the production lot and Xander’s private detail at the level this threat required.
That left God’s team.
When they needed Wes and Law in Atlanta, those two reckless pyrotechnic maniacs had come through for the task force in a way few men would’ve, risking their lives and careers to help him and his team.
It made them brothers, and God honored brotherhood above everything.
Wes and Law had asked them to protect their friend, so Xander Vale was their responsibility now.
Morrison stood close behind him. A little too close for standard protective spacing. His position blocked half the room from Xander’s back, his body angled in a way that shielded him completely.
Tipping his head down so his mouth was near the rim of Xander’s ear, Morrison spoke in a rough, but quiet voice, as though a loud sound might startle him.
“Xander, these are Wes and Law’s friends from Atlanta.”
Xander’s gaze moved around the room, landing on each of them for a second before flicking back to Morrison.
“Lieutenants Godfrey and Day head-up an elite task force in Atlanta. They protect a very big city from a lot of dangerous people. I checked them out.” Morrison’s eyes shifted briefly to God. “They’re good…better than good.”
Morrison’s hand rested at the small of Xander’s back, and Xander leaned into the contact.
Interesting.
Neither of them seemed aware of what their bodies were doing.
God stood from where he’d been leaning against the back of the couch, and Xander’s eyes widened when he rose to his full height.
Six-four had a way of changing the dimensions of a room.
Xander pushed back half a step into Morrison’s chest.
God softened his approach, stopping at a respectable distance before extending his hand.
Xander blinked at it for a second before he took it.
His grip surprised him. It was firm, strong, despite the tremors.
“Xander,” God said. “I’m sorry for what happened tonight. But I can promise you this. It won’t happen again.”
Xander swallowed, then nodded, but he didn’t look convinced.
God couldn’t blame him.
Promises didn’t mean a damn thing when fear was still breathing down his neck.
“This is my husband,” God said, as Day stepped up beside him. “Lieutenant Leonidis Day. We head up the task force together.”
Xander’s eyes widened again, bouncing between them.
He usually just introduced Day as his partner and left it at that. But he wanted no uncertainty regarding his ability to do this job.