Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 147789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
A light rap of knuckles on the bedroom door had him looking up as Kreed cracked the door open just enough to look inside, before pushing it all the way open. “I thought you were awake. Did you read the files Skinner sent over?”
“Not yet, but I will before I head over tomorrow. I’m almost done, but this is hour twenty-seven for me. I need some shut-eye,” Aaron said as another involuntary yawn tore free.
“Make sure you read it. We need to get everyone straight. They’re a little more than I bargained for,” Kreed said, propping a shoulder against the doorframe and hooking his thumb in the direction of the church.
“Yeah, I told you they sucked,” Aaron replied, watching his screen for a second or two before he lifted his eyes. Kreed Sinacola was exceptional in every way. Ruggedly handsome, perfectly built from head to toe, but more than that, he was such an interesting mix of a man. The SpongeBob pajama bottoms and his white sleeveless undershirt announcing “I Like Dick” in big bold black letters across the chest seemed to fit his personality more than anything else could. Kreed looked vulnerable in the moment with his hair sticking out in various directions as though he’d run a frustrated hand through it repeatedly.
If Aaron hadn’t witnessed that hard, unyielding, take-no-shit attitude first hand in the FBI’s lobby, he wouldn’t believe it was inside this guy standing before him. Aaron couldn’t help but give a slight grin at the reminder. Kreed had been prepared to take on all of those armed guards with no doubt he could handle the situation. He was clearly not someone to play with, and Deputy Sinacola was hot as hell when he was all riled-up.
With a mental headshake, Aaron quickly tried to push those images from his mind. They had a job to do, and he had to admit he was somewhat nervous. Okay, a lot nervous about going in that church. “If there really is a spawn of the devil, that pastor over there could be it.”
“Agreed. I want you to carry a weapon,” Kreed said, and his piercing eyes never strayed from Aaron. It wasn’t a question or suggestion, but more a directive as those muscular arms crossed over his broad chest, as though daring Aaron to argue.
“I’m not comfortable with that,” Aaron commented and forced his eyes down to the screen. In a matter of a second, Kreed’s easygoing manner had turned serious, making Aaron a little intimidated in this moment. He didn’t want that to show, so he pasted his irritable mask back in place to hide his response to Kreed’s tactic. It seemed the only recourse he could ever muster against the guy.
“Too bad. I can’t in good conscience send you in there unarmed,” Kreed explained.
“So Skinner’s file must be loaded with good shit about them. You didn’t know anything about their past before?” Aaron asked, dodging the weapons discussion and turning the conversation in a different direction. Regardless of whether he wore a weapon, he’d be useless with a gun. His weapons training experience didn’t go beyond a game controller aimed at a computer monitor. Somehow he didn’t think that would help much in a real life situation.
“Not really. I knew they hated homosexuals and blamed the government for cultivating the ‘fag propaganda.’” Kreed unfolded his arms to use air quotes over the last few words. “I knew they picketed military deaths and courthouses, shit like that, but I was reading their official doctrine. It’s not good,” Kreed said with a shake of his head. Aaron had nothing to add to that because he completely agreed. Walking hatemongers filled Redemption Tabernacle. To Aaron, they were the living evil.
Kreed finally shook his head again as if to dispel the silence that had taken over the conversation. Whatever information or images that flitted through his mind in that moment created a pained expression shooting across his face. “I justified their hate based on religious conviction, but hell, that’s not godly. They can’t even pretend it is. They have to know how evil they are. It’s why you have to be protected until I can get to you.”
“Well, I can’t go in there armed, Kreed.”
“Then we need to get someone else in here,” Kreed said, pushing himself off the door and making his way farther into the room. Aaron lifted his eyes, watching Kreed close the distance to the side of the bed. Kreed’s mannerisms seemed off tonight, different somehow. Something or someone had caused a worried look Aaron had never seen on his face before to show in his eyes and in the lines around his mouth. Maybe his brother? Perhaps his past? Who knew, but those protective vibes were flowing hot and heavy. Aaron felt the care, the concern, and also the apprehensive tension gathering in the air. Aaron’s eyes stayed riveted on Kreed as he sat down on the edge of the bed, not facing Aaron. He didn’t glance his way or say a word, but looked deep in thought as he bent forward with his elbows on his thighs. Kreed finally sighed, sat up and scrubbed his hands down his face before turning and pegging Aaron with another troubled expression.
Before Kreed could speak again, Aaron said, “Maybe we do need someone else, but that’s gonna take time—something we don’t have. It’s been too long already. These freaks don’t believe they’ll be caught and your plan has merit. It’s been months since an attack. We both know it’s time for them to act again. That deacon’s in town. I know it. I won’t take undue risk. I’ll follow the rules and I trust you. We can do this.” Aaron tried to infuse his words with positive solidarity. He lowered his laptop screen about midway and placed it on the nightstand, pushing himself up against the headboard. As much as he didn’t want to be there, they’d come too far to stop now. Besides, it wasn’t going to take long to know if they were barking up the wrong tree or if they’d landed on the mothership.