Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 101501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
I glanced at Jake with wide, scared eyes. For once I didn’t want to be in charge of our merry band of misfits. I just wanted to be Skylar: twenty-three and lost in the big bad world like everyone else.
Jake caught a glimpse of the fear coursing through my body, and his expression hardened instantly. He grabbed the phone from Josh, answering it for me.
“What the fuck do you want?”
I drew in a breath at his expletive. Jake sometimes forgot Chance was the most powerful man in our county, now that his father was ill. He shouldn’t antagonize him.
Jake listened as Chance spoke, paling a bit as the silence stretched. He stared back at me with no small amount of fear, then hung up without saying goodbye.
“What?” I exhaled the word, then drew in another breath so I could hold it together in front of my brothers.
“He wanted us to know that Justice Bear died last night, and to inform us that his father’s dying wish was for Chance to ruin what was left of our family and get The Sarah back. He also wanted us to know he just bought our loan from the bank and he’s calling in the full amount. We have thirty days to pay or move out.”
Two
Ghosts
LOGAN STORM WOKE with a start. Sweat clung to his body in a layer of sheen and his breath came in harsh bursts while he tried to control the tremors racking his body. He flexed his hands, then drew them into fists while the ghosts in his head echoed like a thunderclap. Logan took another deep breath, then let it out, repeating the action until his heart rate slowed. With a groan he felt deep in his soul, he rolled to his side and opened his eyes, trying to focus on his surroundings. He was no longer in Afghanistan where bombs exploded around him and his brothers died before his eyes. He was in heaven on earth, or very near to it. The clear lake and blue skies surrounding him told him that much. Pushing up into a sitting position, Logan tried to remember what state he was in. A sharp blast of cold air ruffled his hair; the scent was clean, untainted by fossil fuels. Montana. He was outside of some small town, sleeping next to a lake as the sun crested the horizon. He’d headed to Montana on the road to nowhere, trying to find the last vestiges of peace he’d known since discharging from the army.
A bark drew his attention from the lake. He scanned the horizon looking for Max, his German shepherd, and found him chasing a rabbit across a broad expanse of land. His attention drifted up a rise in the distance, and he caught sight of a monstrous log cabin that seemed to float on an outcropping. Logan passed his gaze across the land again and took in the fences. He must have trespassed on private property. It had been late when he pulled off the road. The GPS on his phone indicated he was twenty miles outside of Ennis, Montana. He hadn’t seen any lights in the gloom and assumed he was in the middle of nowhere, so he pulled off for a restless night’s sleep.
Rising from the ground, he picked up his sleeping bag and rolled it with precision, like he’d been trained in the army, then stowed it in the bed of his truck and began to strip. Max came bounding up and danced around his feet as he kicked off his boots, so Logan put him in a Down. The dog still had too much puppy in him sometimes. His enthusiasm for the coming swim caused his withers to shake while he waited for Logan to give him the signal.
Pulling the thermal from his body, Logan tossed the shirt inside the bed to keep it dry, then shrugged off his jeans. He stood silently when he was done and let the cold air sting his body awake. After fighting in the Afghan desert, Logan welcomed the cold. He’d trained in this very state, alongside his brothers in arms, to stay conditioned for conflict in colder climates, so he was used to blocking out the cold.
His mind wandered to his brothers Coop, Buster, and Loverboy like always when anything reminded him of his time in the army. He drew in a sharp breath as broken fragments of memories passed through his mind’s eye. Loverboy had been the exact opposite of his nickname. He couldn’t turn the head of a woman if he’d tried. He was too focused on the next big mission to pay attention. His skills within The Unit were legendary. With the ladies, they sucked. A smile crept across his mouth at the memory. Fuck, but he missed his brothers.