Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 97462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Bull hurried into his house and out of the cool, late-night air after doing one final check on his latest rescue. The jet-black Arabian gelding was having a difficult time acclimating to the ranch, but the beautiful horse had only been there a couple of weeks; it was still early. Bull liked to think he had the touch, a sort of sixth sense when it came to communicating with animals, so he felt as if the black beauty should’ve come around to him by now. However, Bull suspected the horse had sustained a lot more abuse than he’d been told.
He kicked off his boots on the mud porch and hung his hat on a peg behind the door next to his father’s worn one. Bull usually completed his evening chores well before now, but when duty called, he answered. Ranchers weren’t known for keeping normal business hours. The few hands Bull had that stayed on his property in the bunkhouse had long ago hunkered down watching whatever reality shows came on at prime time.
It was dark in the kitchen, and after Bull washed his hands, he made a beeline for the refrigerator. He was still full of the pot roast and potatoes he’d had at supper, but he’d skipped dessert to go say goodnight to the Arabian. A decision he was regretting because he’d been craving Amelia’s lemon pound cake all day. Their housekeeper and cook always left the light on over the stove for him to accommodate his late-night snacking. Bull cut himself three thick slices and poured a large glass of milk to wash them down with.
The fire that’d been left burning in the large stone hearth had dwindled to simmering embers, leaving the perfect amount of warmth in his living room for him to enjoy the evening news. Bull wasn’t especially concerned with all of the crime that happened in the city—it was why he lived in one of the most rural parts of Atlanta—but he didn’t mind getting a look at the officers who policed it. One in particular. Mandel Tucker, aka Fox. The badass SWAT lieutenant didn’t make the news every night, but tonight, Bull wasn’t disappointed. He shoved half a slice of cake in his mouth just as the anchor began to speak in her dramatic voice.
“We have breaking news coming to you now at WSB-TV Action at Eleven. Captain Hart’s special tactics unit rescued twelve people who were taken hostage on a MARTA bus around three o’clock this afternoon. SWAT was called to the 200 block of Peachtree Street after reports of a bank robbery escalated into a tense hostage situation.
“WSB’s Max Nguyen is live on the scene with the latest developments.”
Bull almost choked on his cake. Holy shit. He quickly chased the lump wedged in his throat with some milk, then inched closer to the edge of his chair.
“The material you’re about to witness is considered violent and for mature audiences only. Viewer discretion is advised.”
Bull’s heart began to race, knowing he was about to see Fox in action again.
“From our chopper we can see just when SWAT arrives on the scene…”
Bull hated how easily he recognized the shorter, tight-bodied man who stood close to his much larger captain. He’d watched them so many times that he was beginning to recognize Fox’s mannerisms, the way he moved and commanded his team. Bull equally hated and loved how excited he got from seeing Fox on television in that black uniform, weighed down with all that heavy artillery. The reporter added riveting narration at what they were witnessing on the screen, and Bull had to remind himself not to hold his breath.
“Captain Hart immediately sends in his senior rifleman for a nonlethal breech… and as you see here… there is no hesitation on Lieutenant Tucker’s part.”
Bull gasped as Fox shot several beanbags into the bus’s windows, sending dark glass raining everywhere. Jesus. The crowd went wild as some of the spectators took off running, while others hit the ground, taking cover. Bull watched the entire segment, then rewound and viewed it again… then again. He shook his head at the multiple witness interviews and how SWAT quickly went from heroes to trigger-happy cowboys.
“For once the people of Atlanta would like to see one of these situations brought to a peaceful end with zero gunfire. WSB’s Max Nguyen, reporting. Rebecca, back to you.”
After making sure the other local stations didn’t have anything more to report, Bull finally turned his television off. He wouldn’t obsess over this story and go hunting on the internet for every little morsel he could find. That was borderline pathetic.
Ivan Hart and his boyfriend, Freeman, had stayed at his ranch for a while during the fall, while Free installed his new security system. However, Bull hadn’t been expecting them to bring their coworker Fox with them. The lieutenant had only been there a short number of hours, yet he’d still made quite an impression on not just him but his father and Amelia too.