Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
REPRESENTATIVE
Are you still interested?
ME
Yes. When can we make the exchange?
REPRESENTATIVE
You have until eleven PM. Or the web page will reopen for other candidates. The price you negotiated is still $2.2m firm. CASH.
ME
Send the address.
I knew the address unless Aleksandr had another location in California to commence business from other than his home. The deal’s delicate nature made it unwise to conduct business openly. That could work. It would indicate the Russian left a portion of his security detail at home. Right? I chuckled, a breathy sound. “The other person, Rocket, he-he pulled out. I guess.”
Leith smiled.
My brows furrowed. “What?”
“Seems you need me after all.”
“No. Your look implied something more. What is it?” I ordered.
“Little Brody wanted to apologize for bringing up the meds—ahem.” Leith lifted his hands. “He knows to keep his distance but asked me to relay the apology. You should be happy.”
“So what? Your brother murdered Rocket or something?” Animosity swelled in me.
“Just be happy, Jamie.” Leith crumpled the paper towel from his sandwich. “Go put on a suit. I never was for the family business, either. Nevertheless, I presume if Brody made this deal for the girl and had $2 million, he’d do so in a suit. Do you have two mil?”
“2.2. Yes.” Now, I also had the additional $500,000 that I’d sent to the mercenaries. I wasn’t broke.
Leith arose from the stool on the opposite side of the island. “Git, then! I’m wearing slacks and a button-down. I can’t look more professional than a millionaire, such as yourself.”
“Did Brody murder Rocket?” At my heated shout, Rebel trounced into the room, alert and ready for action. How did Brody know Rocket? I had so many questions.
“Didn’t you murder—”
“Excuse me, Leith. I’ve never felt guilt or shame over my kill count.” Except once. The man had been innocent, and I was a knuckleheaded sixteen-year-old. No. Insane. “I suppose the same goes for you people. Still, I’ve never pulled the trigger—not without PID.” Positive identification of a target confirmed if the person was a civilian or a legitimate target for action. “In other cases, I eliminated all targets pinpointed by military intelligence. And I only paid for the team if I couldn’t stop the deal with Rocket.” Super ironic. I’d almost emptied my bank account to pay the mercenaries—which left me unable to outbid Rocket’s final sum. “I’d advised that stupid team not to strike unless I needed coverage. They got a better offer.” I shook my head—shared too much. “Even behind enemy lines, there are rules of engagement, Leith.”
“Okay, gentleman. I’ll help you stop assuming. Brody didn’t kill ‘em. Rocket is an, ahem, family friend.” Leith glanced away as if saying so added another check against the reasons I couldn’t stand Clan MacKenzie. “Brody distracted Rocket, sweetened a deal, which includes more access to—”
“I don’t want to talk about guns or drugs!”
“Me neither. Still, you gotta take a good look at us.” Leith stood, a broad grin on his face.
“What?”
“Arguing like bràthairs.”
Ignoring the brother reference, I shot over my shoulder, “I’m gonna change into a suit.” My only suit.
Leith shouted, “We’re bràthairs, bràthairs, bràthairs!” as I stormed up the stairs to the massive primary.
Although a contingency plan C should’ve been too good to be true, I was still irritated at Leith, who’d accompanied me.
The house mirrored the exact blueprints I had of Aleksandr’s Tarzana Hills home. The neighborhood kid’s drone footage also helped me estimate the number of tangos I’d need to cover.
But my only weapons were my clenched fists as I walked through walls lined with mahogany and lit dimly by antique sconces. The plantation shutters were drawn shut. Shoot, these specialized contacts aren’t helping me see any better. But these fake brown eyes did more than help me look like the rich party boy—Jae Mack—from Malibu.
I took a deep, steadying breath. The whole place smelled of tobacco and imported leather. I unclenched my hands. Leather Chelsea boots hardly made contact with the Turkish rugs. A Russian who held his shoulders like the leader of Chelomey’s detail led me and Leith into a study. The Russian—Denis, maybe?—had relieved Leith of the Glock I’d given him during the drive over. As my bodyguard, it would’ve been awkward when Denis patted us down and didn’t even find a weapon on Leith.
We’d rehearsed this moment on the ride, but no amount of planning would stop the adrenaline that surged through my veins.
Anger. Happiness. Rage. Elation—Jordyn was here. Somewhere.
I shook the hand of the smug vulture, who sat as if the black leather chair was his throne. In a suit, Aleksandr Chelomey appeared very muscular. A bit watery. His muscles seemed chemically enhanced, unlike mine, which I’d developed through rigorous training. As Chelomey set his eyes on the briefcase, his mouth lifted into a slash, and his eyes darkened like he’d seen too much. Too much of Jordyn’s body.