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)
Finally, the secured door buzzed.
Ruxs came out first then Green.
Neither appeared injured. Ruxs had a scrape along his left cheekbone and Green’s jacket was torn near the sleeve.
God stared long and hard at them.
Ruxs and Green looked everywhere they could to avoid his glare.
Ruxs scratched the back of his head. “In our defense—”
“Don’t,” God growled.
Ruxs closed his mouth.
Free smiled at them. “I’ve wiped all the videos of you two buffoons offline, so we should be good with IA.”
God took a step forward. “You chased a suspect,” he said, voice low, “through a crowded restaurant, onto a public street, during an active protection detail, in a city where we have no jurisdiction.”
“Look. I admit it wasn’t our brightest idea,” Green sighed. “But it’s the only solid lead we’ve had.”
God pointed at him. “When the Cap says trouble follows me wherever I go, who the fuck do you think he’s talkin’ about?”
Ruxs rolled his eyes.
Day stood. “All right. Let’s move the lecture back to our hotel.”
God didn’t move.
Day stepped closer and lowered his voice. “Cash. Time to go.”
God’s eyes stayed on Ruxs and Green for another blistering second before he turned toward the exit.
As they walked out, Day caught Captain Vega watching from the hall.
Day gave him a friendly salute that he didn’t return.
Outside, the California sun hit them bright and hot. Slade was waiting for them at the curb.
Once they were all inside, Free inhaled a sharp gasp that made them all jerk around in his direction.
“Um, fellas,” Free said slowly, “I think we might have a bigger problem back home than IA.”
“What? What is it?” Day asked.
Free didn’t answer right away. His fingers flew over his tablet, then slower as if even he needed a second to believe what he was seeing.
God leaned forward from the second row. “Free.”
Free turned the tablet around.
Illustra’s homepage filled the screen in black and gold lust.
At the center of the glamour was Furious Styles—his sergeant’s boyfriend whom he coveted with a possessive devotion that was a little frightening.
Honey-blond hair spilling over one shoulder, peach skin glowing beneath low midnight-blue light, black silk opened enough to show ink, muscle, and that impossible face.
He looked unreal. Immortal. A perfect image of the exotic fantasy every man and woman had, splayed out in real life, ripe for the taking.
Across the top of the page, in huge glowing letters, were the words: HE’S BACK.
Day’s mouth fell open.
So did Ruxs’s.
Green leaned forward between the seats, eyes wide. “Holy-fuckin-shit.”
Tech snatched the tablet from Free’s hand and brought it closer. “This video has over sixteen million views and…” His brows shot up. “Jesus. Nine-point-six million paid downloads.”
Ruxs groaned. “Oh boy. This can’t be good.”
Day was thinking the same thing…probably all of them were. Syn was extremely protective of Furi, and private.
God’s expression darkened and Day reached for his phone knowing what his husband was going to demand.
“Get me Syn on the line,” God ordered.
He hit Syn’s contact and put it on speaker. It rang once before it went to voicemail.
He tried again.
Same.
God’s voice was flat. “Free. Track him.”
Free already had the tablet back and his fingers moving.
The SUV was silent except for the hum of the engine and the rush of traffic.
After a few seconds Free said, “He’s at Ro and Johnson’s house.”
Day lowered his phone.
God sat back, a frown marring his handsome face.
Ruxs dragged both hands over his head. “This is really, really bad.”
Day looked at the frozen image of Furi on the tablet, then at God, then through the windshield at Los Angeles.
They had threats in front of them, Internal Affairs behind them, and now their brother somewhere back home with his heart split open.
Perfect.
Just fucking perfect.
River Blackwell
River Blackwell was Celestine Ashford’s son by blood, Bennett Ashford’s son by paperwork.
He walked down the west hallway of their house—Celestine Seas Manor—a sprawling stone monument on Pacific Coast Highway above Carbon Beach.
Sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, and the sound of waves broke against the shoreline with an overlapping, insistent pattern.
River had been on his way to his stepfather’s office to tell him he was going to visit his mother. A quick courtesy, because Bennett liked knowing everything, even regarding the people he didn’t care much about.
He’d just turned the corner when he heard Bennett cursing.
Not the annoyed profanity he used on studio calls or when fussing with his mother’s management team.
This was uglier. Meaner.
River stopped two doors away from the office and listened.
Bennett’s voice carried through the heavy door, loaded with a fury he didn’t recognize.
“What is taking so fuckin’ long? How hard can it be to get one clueless actor? He was alone on the lot. Alone at home. Twice, he was right in front of you, and neither of you could do the job you were paid generously to for.”
A man answered with a rough voice. “If you want this done now, the price goes up.”