Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 74078 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74078 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Cerberus members are known to hang out at the local bar in town, and there has been more than one occasion when the bartender has called me to let me know he took Travis’s keys from him.
“I was just heading home, and I wanted to stop by and see how everything was going,” Legacy says now that Ryder has gotten lost in his movie once again.
I shake my head, letting him know that nothing has changed.
“Maybe tomorrow,” he says with a sad smile.
“Maybe,” I tell him, wishing him a good night when he heads toward the door.
Chapter 4
Bishop
I keep my head low, but I know if the fuckers on the other side of the line had just a little better aim, crouching would do me no good.
“Take cover,” I yell to my team, my eyes darting toward Rivet.
That’s how I have to think of her out here. She can’t be my wife right now. It makes all of this too dangerous for both of us, but how do I turn that part of me off? I knew better than to go back to work with us both on the same team again, but going back to war without her seemed worse.
Undecipherable chatter squawks through my headpiece, and I lose a little time trying to figure out what’s going on. Rivet is flat on the ground to my left, and as safe as that position is compared to standing tall and waving a flag, I know her safety is actually very limited.
Being out in the middle of this field makes no sense. We’re more skilled than this. We’ve made ourselves direct targets and for the life of me, I can’t even remember why we’re here or who we’re fighting.
Turning my head to the right, I watch in horror as one of my men drops to the ground, blood pouring from the wound in his chest. My heart clenches with the loss, but I have to keep going. Mourning that man will have to come later. Making a mistake now would mean someone having to mourn me.
A scream pulls my attention back in Rivet’s direction, and the world goes silent when I see her clutching her side, red blooming around her hands.
We lock eyes, disappointment and blame in hers, as if I could’ve somehow prevented this from happening. Maybe I could’ve. Maybe I could’ve dug my feet in and refused to let her come back, but that would never happen. No one tells Angeline to do a damn thing. If they tried, it would only make her push back even harder.
I think of our wedding day and all the fights we’ve had since getting married. I think of our son as I watch the color drain from her face.
Before I can make my way to her, another soldier drops to his knees and lifts her from the ground. At first I’m grateful for the help but watching her press her nose into his neck shoots a wave of unease up my spine.
There’s a familiarity between the two of them. As I stand to follow them, to question them, pain ricochets through my leg, and I’m barely able to push my arms out before falling to the blood-soaked ground.
The twinkle of candlelight pulls my eyes up. I have no idea when it started to rain, but when I tilt my head to look up at the sky, I feel like a fool. The droplets on my lips are from my eyes, salty tears of pain with what I’m witnessing.
“I hate that you’re seeing this.”
I turn my head, looking all around but I can’t see my mom, despite her voice a whisper in my ear.
“She’s not a bad woman. She’s just not the one for you.”
I have no idea why her opinion hurts me so badly. Mom has never been wrong, but saying Angeline isn’t a bad woman with what I’m witnessing right now is like congratulating a serial killer for population control.
My legs are stuck, my feet unable to move no matter how hard I try as I watch through the window. I’m not close enough to pound on the glass in an effort to get them to stop. I want to fall to my knees, or at the least be able to close my eyes, but both are impossible.
Slow and sensual, with candles all around the room casting erotic shadows on the walls, I watch in horror as another man makes love to my wife. Their lips move, but I can’t hear what they’re saying. Everything is magnified, as if they’re creating a cinematic masterpiece.
The dip in his muscles as she clings to him.
The sweat coating their skin.
The way she runs her foot slowly up his calf before wrapping her leg around his ass.
The rhythmic bounce of her tits with each forward thrust.