Total pages in book: 266
Estimated words: 250787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1254(@200wpm)___ 1003(@250wpm)___ 836(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 250787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1254(@200wpm)___ 1003(@250wpm)___ 836(@300wpm)
“What the fuck?” Saint barks out when we see two familiar faces sitting on one of the leather couches.
They were in the middle of speaking and came to a stop when they heard Saint. Bill picks up his scotch and takes a sip while he holds his cell in the other.
My eyes look at the man sitting next to him and frown. He has a manila folder in his hand and is wearing an all-black suit with a matching tie. Just like the last time we saw him—four years ago.
“How the fuck do you two know one another?” Kash demands.
“Have a seat, gentleman.” Bill gestures to both couches on either side of the aisle facing one another and purposely avoiding the question.
“What do you want?” I ask, looking at the one we haven’t seen in years. Why now?
“Brothers.” He acknowledges us.
I sit down on the one on the right while Kash and Saint pick the one across from me.
A cell ringing breaks through the silence, and I look down to see a phone light up with a picture of the detective and a girl. She’s dressed in a black graduation hat and gown; his arm is over her shoulders pulling her into his side and they’re both smiling. He declines the call, turns off his cell and flips it over.
I look up as he clears his throat nervously and Bill looks from the phone to the detective with narrowed eyes. “Why is…?”
“Later.” The detective cuts him off.
What the fuck is that about?
A woman walks out from the back, fixing her blouse as if she just picked it up off the floor and stumbles to button it up. She comes up next to them.
“Tell my pilot we’re ready.” Bill gestures to the air. “And get these men whatever they want to drink.”
“Of course.” She smiles at him and then drops her eyes to her shoes as she makes her way to the cockpit.
“What the fuck are we doing here, and where are we going?” Saint demands, looking at his watch. Kash doesn’t have anyone back at home in his bed as far as I know, but Saint and I do. And I’d much rather be balls deep in my wife than here with these two men.
“I’ll let you know once we’re up in the air.” He sits back in his seat as the engines start.
We get comfortable knowing they’ve got something to tell us that we obviously need to hear. What else could Bill have to say that he hasn’t already filled us in on?
The flight attendant takes our drink orders, which is just Kash. He wanted vodka. Pretty sure he’s been drinking all night since we buried our brother. Saint and I opted out. The last thing I want is to be drugged. We’re still Lords, so anything is possible. Plus, in a one-on-one fight, I’m not sure how well I’d be able to perform right now. I’m still not a hundred percent myself yet, and all the energy I do have, I use on my wife.
The plane levels out, and Saint begins. “Okay. What the fuck are we…”
The back door opens—the same one the woman came from—and we all jump to our feet.
“No fucking way!” Kashton gasps.
“What the fuck?” Saint demands.
I just stare at the man who has a smile on his face. “Brothers.” He spreads his arms out wide.
Kash is the first to embrace him in a tight hug, slapping his back. “What in the fuck, Adam?” He laughs, shoving him. “How many lives do you have?”
“I’m like a cat,” Adam jokes.
I chuckle and embrace him next. When he pulls away, he turns to face Saint, and he crosses his arms over his chest.
Adam sighs. “Sit, please. We have a lot to fill you in on, and I don’t want to have to keep you all night.”
“We buried you,” Kash states the obvious. “Your body…It was cold.” He points at me. “It wasn’t like Haidyn’s fake death where he sat in a morgue. You fucking shot yourself…you had no face.”
Adam runs a hand over his dark hair. “Yeah.” His green eyes meet mine. “Although it wasn’t my body. We had to pull some strings.”
“We?” I ask, and my eyes shoot to the two men also on the plane with us. They say nothing.
“So, what…you’re a detective or a cop?” Kash wonders, looking at Adam. “CIA?” Then jokes. “Hitman?”
“Not necessarily.” He shakes his head, chuckling.
“Then what the fuck are you?” Saint growls, tired of fake deaths and games.
He slaps the detective on the back. “He’s my boss. For the past four years, I’ve been undercover working in a top-secret division that specializes in human trafficking,” Adam announces, and the plane falls silent. He licks his lips and continues. “After we had our meeting senior year at the house of Lords, I began to investigate the disappearance of the girl I was accused of killing.” His eyes drop to his hands in his lap. “At first, it was to prove my innocence, but then it became more than that, and this has been my life ever since.”