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)
Epilogue
Boone
The fluorescent lights hum overhead in the Nashville office of Maddox Security, illuminating the large mission board tacked to the wall. On it are photos, maps, red string linking a half-dozen leads about a kidnapped heiress. It’s late, the rest of the city caught in the lull of evening traffic, but for me and my team, there’s no such thing as off-hours. Not when someone’s life hangs in the balance.
I stand at the head of a long conference table, scanning the faces of the men who’ve become my new Nashville crew. Garrett flips through a file, brow furrowed, while Thor—John Hansen, that towering hulk of a man—leans against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, nodding along to the plan. Two other guys, Daniels and Vega, exchange quick glances, each wearing the same no-nonsense expression they wore the day we rescued Aubree.
I clear my throat, and their attention snaps to me. “All right, so the target is eighteen-year-old Fiona Chambers. Family’s got major political ties in Kentucky. She was taken sometime yesterday evening from her university campus. We have reason to believe the kidnappers want a ransom, but we also suspect they might not be in this for the money alone. Could be a power play against her father’s upcoming election. Regardless, our job is to get her back safely.”
Garrett taps his pen on the file. “You said campus security last spotted her near the library, then all cameras went dark?”
“Exactly,” I confirm. “Which tells me these guys know how to work around standard security systems. We need to assume they’re professionals. Dean got some intel that points to an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. We’ll check that first.”
Thor pushes off the wall. “And we’re coordinating all ground teams from here?”
“Yup,” I say, flipping through the mission dossier. “We have two mobile units ready to converge. I’ll quarterback from the office—watching the cams, feeding you all real-time updates. If there’s any sign of movement or suspicious activity, I’ll direct you. This is a hostage retrieval, so caution is key.” I look each man in the eye. “I want zero casualties on our side and minimal risk to the girl. Understood?”
Four heads nod in unison. We run through a final gear check and timeline. Once I’m satisfied, I close the folder with a snap. “All right, get moving. Let’s bring her home.”
They break away, gathering their tactical bags and heading for the elevator. Garrett pats my shoulder as he passes. “We’ve got this, Boss.”
“Be safe,” I tell them. “I’ll be on comms the whole time.”
They disappear down the hall, and the heavy office door clicks shut behind them. For a brief moment, I inhale, letting the hum of the overhead lights fill the silence. I glance around the conference room—my conference room. Since moving to Nashville and setting up this branch of Maddox Security, I’ve poured everything into making it top-tier. We’re still growing, but the team is strong, and Dean’s regular updates confirm we’re heading in the right direction.
A small grin tugs at my lips. I never expected to have roots anywhere—always figured I’d bounce from one high-stakes job to another, living on the edge. But everything changed the day I met Aubree. This office, this city… it’s ours now. I grab my jacket from the back of a chair and head for the exit, flipping off the conference room lights. The mission will unfold in real time, but I can coordinate from home just as effectively as I can here—plus, I’ve got good reason to hurry back.
The drive from downtown Nashville to my cabin in the hills takes about twenty minutes, winding along back roads flanked by tall pines. The night is cool, the sky dotted with stars. My phone rests on the console, set to speaker so I can jump onto comms if Garrett or Thor calls. Thus far, it’s been quiet. They’re still en route to the warehouse, probably scouting vantage points.
Finally, I pull onto the familiar gravel path that leads up the slope toward the cabin. As I crest the last turn, the warm glow of porch lights greets me, and my chest tightens with contentment. This place has changed so much since Aubree moved in. It used to feel too big, too lonely. Now, it’s home.
I park, kill the engine, and step out, relishing the cool night air. The faint aroma of pine and woodsmoke drifts across the yard. And then—my stomach rumbles—the distinct smell of tomato sauce and cheese. She’s making pizza. My mouth waters instantly.
Inside, the cabin glows softly with low lighting. My boots thud against the wooden floor as I call out, “Aubree?”
“In the kitchen!” she answers, her voice carrying a playful lilt.
I round the corner, grinning at the sight that greets me: Aubree at the counter, wearing a simple tank top and jeans dusted with flour. She’s got a dough circle spread out, sauce ladled on, and a bowl of shredded cheese at the ready.