Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78603 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78603 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
I turn back to Ranger, who’s rubbing the back of his neck. Seeing the hint of worry in his eyes reminds me why I’m closest to him out of everyone in the group. He’s solid. Dependable. And he’s the reason I’m even here. We met a couple of years ago. As soon as we both got out of the military, Ranger talked to Dean on my behalf, and got me this job at Maddox Securities.
It was exactly what I needed at the time—an outlet for that military readiness that never really leaves you, but without all the red tape. Dean built Maddox Securities from scratch, first dealing in high-tech security systems before branching into personal security. Now, he—and by extension, all of us—have flown around the globe, working with mafia families and all sorts of clients most people wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole.
Of course, we keep our mouths shut about the specifics. That’s part of the deal. Anyone who can afford the high price tag of Maddox Securities wants the best, and the best requires absolute discretion. We’re a tight-knit, elite group, which suits me just fine. I’d rather keep my head down, do the job, and get paid well for it than deal with the nine-to-five grind.
Still, I can’t help but notice the faint slump in Ranger’s shoulders whenever someone brings up his sister. I remind myself that when push comes to shove, I’ve got his back—both on the clock and off. It’s just who I am.
“Why do you schedule these meetings so early in the morning?” Orion complains.
Dean looks at his watch and shakes his head. “It’s nine a.m. That’s hardly the crack of dawn.” He chuckles, clearly amused at Orion’s theatrics.
Ignoring Dean, Orion presses his forehead against the polished cherry-wood table, letting out a long groan. I arch an eyebrow at the sight.
“Rough night?” I ask, my tone playful, though I already know exactly why he’s so wiped—and unfortunately, it’s not because he got lucky. Given how dedicated Orion is, he probably spent half the night chasing down leads or combing through files on our latest client. Still, I can’t help wishing he’d had a more enjoyable reason for the dark circles under his eyes. The guy deserves a break. Hell, we all do.
But he only grunts in reply, which sends a ripple of laughter through the rest of us.
A moment later, Asher enters, his dark eyes flicking around the table, quietly taking in the scene. He’s our newest recruit, and I don’t know much about him yet—other than the fact that he’s as sharp as any of us, and Dean seems to trust him implicitly. That’s more than enough to put him in my good graces.
Dean clears his throat, gathering everyone’s attention. “Thanks for being here. I know the past couple of months have been rough with me on the hunt for Bishop.” His gaze drops to the stack of papers in front of him. He flips through them, the seriousness of his expression taking hold of the room. “I can’t thank you all enough for the roles you played in tracking him down. Hopefully, now we’ll have a little peace.”
I nod in agreement. It’s no secret that Lincoln and Isabel ran themselves ragged to keep things running smoothly while Dean was away. We all did our part, but those two especially carried a heavy load.
Dean continues, “And I owe Isabel a lot, too. She’s been a huge help. Having a sister who’s also a part of this operation is...well, I’m damn lucky.” He smiles briefly, then glances at Lincoln. There’s a flicker of something there—appreciation, maybe gratitude. I wonder if he’ll acknowledge the extra mile Lincoln went. Or if there’s something else going on behind the scenes.
Before I can dwell on it, Dean’s all business again. “All right. Now that the dust has settled, I’ve got some new assignments to hand out. Let’s get to it.”
My pulse stirs. Nashville. I already know that’s where I’m headed, but I try to keep my eagerness under wraps. I haven’t been to my Tennessee cabin in too long, and just the thought of breathing in that crisp mountain air has me itching to head out.
Dean shuffles another stack of folders and picks one off the top. “Ranger, I’ll start with you.” He hands Ranger a slim file. “This is Tory Ann.”
Ranger opens the folder, his brow furrowing as he scans the contents. “Is she attending the summit?”
Dean shakes his head. “No, her father—Frederick Malser—is the one attending. He’s a world-renowned scientist and one of the keynote speakers at the G-Summit this weekend. He’ll have his own personal security detail, so he wants separate coverage for his daughter.”
Ranger arches an eyebrow. “Why not just let his own team watch over her, too?”
It’s a fair question, and one that makes me lean in, interested to hear the explanation. Dean folds his arms, preparing to elaborate, and I can’t help but notice how the tension in the room builds again—like we’re all bracing for whatever surprise might come next.