Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 61576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
“Would you two shut the hell up?” I reply. I’ve worked with these guys many times before. They’re my main guys and know I’m not serious and won’t be offended by basically anything I say. “Let’s go over tonight one more time. Who is the VIP?”
“Violet Keith,” Ryan replies.
I nod. “And what’s the objective?”
“Escort her from the venue to her hotel,” Logan says. “Ensure her safety, secure and isolate any potential threats.”
“Good,” I say. “Now when we reach the venue, there are going to be a lot of screaming teenagers and paparazzi. The venue itself has security, but we don’t rely on them. Make sure Violet doesn’t get swamped. If there’s any kind of breach, and we can’t make it to the car, we bring her back inside the venue and re-assess.”
“Got it, boss.” Ryan grins.
“Roger that,” Logan adds with a thumbs-up.
This kind of gig is just the kind that I hate. There are too many variables—too many things that can go wrong. But I have a company to run with a reputation to uphold, and I can’t be turning down too many jobs before people stop coming to hire me altogether.
A few minutes later, I pull up to the security entrance behind the venue. We show them our badges and are let through. I park, and we get out of the truck, and that’s when I see our first problem.
The paparazzi and a line of crazy fans are well within viewing distance of the door Violet is supposed to exit from. That means all it might take is for one of them to glance over here and see her when she’s coming out, and we’re going to have a riot on our hands.
“Guys.” I point and motion for them to stand with their backs to the lines of fans. It’s not going to do much, but it’s better than nothing and might help a little to block the view of Violet when she exits the venue.
We’re all armed, of course, but using weapons on a job like this should be an absolute last result.
I check my watch. It’s almost time.
“Here we go, boys,” I call out.
The door opens, and two of the security guards working for the venue step out. Our eyes meet, they see my team’s badges, and having already been alerted to how things are going to go down tonight, they motion to someone inside.
Seconds later, Violet Keith steps out.
She’s young, blond, and somewhere in her early twenties, wearing a semi-goth outfit with wild makeup all over her face. She definitely looks like a pop star.
“Miss Keith?” I say, ushering her toward the truck. “My name is Jake Masters. I’m going to be escorting you to your hotel tonight. If you could come with me to the truck–”
“Oh my God, it’s Violet!” someone shrieks from the line of fans and paparazzi. That shriek is instantly followed by countless other excited cries as the horde of fans becomes aware of Violet’s presence.
I whip my head around to see them charging the fence along with the paparazzi as cameras begin to flash in my face.
Shit!
“Ryan! Logan!” I shout, instantly taking Violet by the wrist as my instincts kick in.
“On it!” Logan shouts, rushing toward the horde with his arms out as I take Violet and pull her quickly toward the truck.
Something hard strikes me in the back of the head—something clearly meant to hit Violet. I curse under my breath.
My boys are trained for this. Ryan instantly leaps into the driver’s seat as I pull Violet into the back with me, my hand on my pistol in case things get completely out of control.
“Ryan, go!” I shout.
5
Jake
The engine roars as the truck lurches forward. Ryan is already driving. Logan will deal with the mob of fans and paparazzi along with the venue security, and we will circle back to retrieve him later. That’s his job. Our job right now is to get Violet Keith to safety.
“Oh my God,” I hear her say. She sounds upset, which is totally understandable after what just happened. But when I turn to look at her, I see she’s looking directly at me. “Are you okay?”
“Me? I’m fine, Miss Keith,” I reply. “Are you all right?”
“You’re bleeding!” She reaches around to touch the back of my head where I was struck by whatever that flying object was, but I carefully take her hand to stop her.
“I’ll be all right,” I say, trying to sound as comforting as possible. “I’ve been through much worse.”
I grab the first-aid kit from under the seat and break open the gauze pack and press it against the throbbing wound.
“Please, call me Violet.” She looks very concerned. Not quite what I expected from a pop diva. “And seriously, Jake, you should go to the ER. You’re really bleeding.”
I shake my head. “Our job is to get you to your hotel,” I tell her. “Once we do that, maybe I’ll get it looked at. But don’t worry; head wounds bleed a lot. It’s probably not too serious.”