Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 59119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Hopefully, he wanted more sleep too. We’d gotten like two hours in between our fuck-fest and breakfast. Then we’d retreated to his room for a nap, and I wasn’t ready for that to be over.
“Fred will be here soon,” he murmured.
Fucking Bucko. He always had to ruin things.
I yawned and stretched out alongside Adrien’s body.
He pressed a kiss to the side of my head and stroked my chest. “You should start thinking about where you wanna have dinner when I come home from Colombia.”
Technically, our first date would probably be in Colombia. A guy had to eat. And he was fucking crazy if he thought I could let him go alone after last night.
“Maybe you’ll forget all about me while you’re there,” I half joked.
He rumbled a sleepy laugh. “You’re the flight risk, not me.”
I wasn’t a fucking flight risk.
I wasn’t truly worried about him either, except…I hadn’t gotten my fill yet. Things were too new, too unsettled, for me to just stay here while he flew halfway across the world to assassinate the big jefe of a goddamn drug cartel.
Sorry, I had my limits.
The way I figured, I could honor my best friend by helping Adrien take down the top dog.
I yawned again and cracked my eyes open enough to squint.
Ugh, he was too handsome to look at.
He smiled softly and kissed my nose.
“I’m not a flight risk,” I muttered. “And you’re too sexy. Go take a shower and get ready. My ass can’t take another round.”
Legit.
He grinned tiredly and gave me another squeeze before he rolled out of bed.
Yikes. He had tiny little bruises and scratches all over his neck and back. Add thighs and ass.
I scratched my head and stretched some more.
I had a letter to write and a bag to pack.
Bucko arrived on the tender shortly after noon.
He and Adrien kept themselves busy, loading up the boat with everything they were bringing to the new location. Laptops, satphones, hard drives, personal belongings.
I guessed Adrien was too distracted to notice that I’d put on jeans and a long-sleeved tee. Maybe not the outfit of someone who was staying behind.
I wasn’t bringing much, obviously. Just the clothes Adrien had found or bought for me and the stuff he’d brought from Italy.
I sat down at the table I’d had breakfast at in the pool area, and I took a swig of my Coke and tapped the folded note against the table. My letter of apology and instructions for Ryan and the others.
The guilt was settling in just fine in my stomach.
I unfolded the note and read it for the tenth time.
I’d debated whether to use Adrien’s real name or Delgado. In the end, I wanted to protect him against the slightest risk. Only in case this note was read by someone else too.
I redid the math as well. Seventy-two hours, starting once Carillo went ashore… And Adrien was meeting him tomorrow night. Maybe twelve hours for Ryan to get here and see the note…? So, subtracting that… I scratched the side of my head.
First of all, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I made you come out here for nothing. I’m going with Delgado to Colombia. (Please destroy this note once you’ve read it.) I’ll tell you everything soon. I’m so sorry.
Your brother (maybe you too) and Delgado probably have a friend in common in DC. I think you know the place. There shouldn’t be too many to ask. Throw in a certain tech genius and you’ll find him. Please call him if you want someone to vouch for this guy.
In approximattly four days, I will call you and hand over the exact location of our target. I know where he will be and when. And I would tell you sooner if it didn’t put someone I’ve come to care for in danger. It’s a matter of life and death. Otherwise, I would never withhold any informashion. I hope you know that. I also hope you can focus on the fact that you WILL receeve this intel a lot sooner than we would’ve found him on our own.
I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Four days, give or take, I will be in touch with everything you need. Take care. DON’T CALL MY DAD. I’m fine. I’m sorry.
I cleared my throat and folded the note again.
“That’s the last of it, sir!” I heard Bucko holler.
Fuck. I was actually nervous.
I took another swig of my Coke, then left the pool area and headed for the pilothouse.
Adrien was gonna be so pissed at first to hear I was coming with him. He’d already given me a long spiel about all the intel, followed by the sweet threat that I had to stay safe or else he would hurt me.
Once in the pilothouse, I headed over to the communication board. I activated our signal and sent a thank-you to the modern tech on these vessels. Man, they were better equipped than some of the shit we had in the Marines. Everything was run by computers today. Like, I had fucking internet access in my car at home. Just like I had here. I pulled up a browser and went to a free text service. Submitted a fake email address, and there was the message box.