Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 38960 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 195(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38960 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 195(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
Dread settled in his chest like a bowling ball. His exhaustion wiped away as his body prepped for a fight. No, he wasn’t in some hellhole fighting for his life, but his life was in danger. She was gone.
He knew that before he even allowed his feet to hit the floor. Hastings found his boxers and walked the entirety of the room before he realized there wasn’t a single shred of proof that she’d even been in his room last night.
He didn’t have to go pound on her door. As sure as he knew who he was, he had no doubt she wasn’t there.
At his phone, he unlocked it and placed a call.
“Jesus, what the hell are you calling me for? I was about to get a blow job.”
“No, he wasn’t! Hi, Hastings!” Iris called out.
“Yes, I was! Damn it, Iris, get back in here and take care of this. You fucker, now I have a rock-hard dick and my wife is heading out the door.”
“Don’t care about your little dick or your marital issues. Where is she?”
“You should, because if my dick don’t get relief, I don’t give a fuck about whatever you’re whining about.”
“If I have to fly out to your house and have this discussion face to face, Bradford, you’re not going to like the outcome.”
His brother grunted. “Well, I’ll still have a woman to heal me. And you’ll be without.”
“Not in the fucking mood, Bradford. Tell me where she is.”
“I don’t have a clue.” He cleared his throat. “Honestly, I thought she was still going to be there for another day or two.”
He put the call on speaker and paced the room while he packed his few belongings.
“I need to find her.”
“I can ask Iris, but no promises she’ll tell me anything.”
His phone beeped and he looked at the screen. A message popped up and he scowled as he read the text.
Wheels up in 18.
That was it.
Fuck! He’d forgotten he was active and up to be called when needed. He’d been so wrapped up in Violet and taking care of Evan the rest had slipped his mind.
“I have to go, Bradford. I’m shipping out.”
Silence. He tipped his head to make sure the call hadn’t been dropped.
“Keep in touch this time, little brother.”
“I will.” The admission wasn’t anything he’d expected to fall from his mouth, but he didn’t call it back. He shoved the rest of his things in his bag and shouldered it before swiping the phone off the bed and casting one final look around.
“Find her for me, Bradford. She’s mine.”
He ended the call and walked out of the door, wanting nothing more than to head off and track his woman down. But right now, duty called.
Chapter Twelve
Three months later, he strode off the rear ramp of the C-17 he and his team had hitched a ride home on. Blinking away from the bright sunlight, he tugged the brim of his camo boonie to block out the rays.
Right now he wanted two things. Violet and sleep. In that order. A shower would be nice but that could happen once he’d got her, fucked her, married her. Then they could shower.
“What about you, man?”
He glanced at his teammate. “What about me what?” Hastings had so little patience for small-talk, especially right now.
“Going to get some pussy?”
“Yes.”
“Really? I thought you were hung up on this girl, which is why you were such a moody fuck.”
“The pussy I’m after is my future wife’s. You never need to think about her or her pussy again.”
“Hastings?”
He paused on the ramp and waited for the man who’d called his name, a teammate who went by Wolf.
“What’s up?”
The quiet demolitions man didn’t say anything, simply jutted his chin in a direction. Following the gesture, Hastings swore.
“What the fuck is he doing here?”
His old man was there. Knowing he should deal with this right away, he didn’t. The man could wait. Or not. Personally, he didn’t give a fuck.
Without acknowledging him, he strode off with his team and went into their building. After dealing with the debrief, he grabbed a shower and reached for his phone once he’d dressed.
First thing he did was pull up Bradford’s number and shoot him a text. No words, just a question mark. Then he shoved the phone in his pocket, grabbed his wallet and keys and headed to his red and black truck. He pressed the automatic start and smiled when the Hemi engine roared to life.
Once his things had been tossed in the back, he climbed up, pleased all four of the thirty-five-inch tires were still well-inflated. He headed for home. Perhaps the order of what he wanted had changed, but his desire to get Violet had not.
And Hastings wasn’t going to let her go without a fight. He’d put in for time off because if he had to track her down OCONUS—outside the contiguous United States—he would do so.