Total pages in book: 227
Estimated words: 220940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1105(@200wpm)___ 884(@250wpm)___ 736(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 220940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1105(@200wpm)___ 884(@250wpm)___ 736(@300wpm)
A domineering force in Miami’s volatile criminal underworld, Brad Black is respected. Feared. His deadly accurate trigger finger and indestructible persona has earned him his intimidating reputation and, up until six months ago, hookers, drugs, and protecting the Black empire was the sum of his life’s purpose.
Until he saved her.
Wild, brave, and beautiful, Pearl Kennedy is Brad’s kryptonite. A distraction. A youngdistraction. But with enemies joining forces, coming at them with more force and less mercy than ever before, she’s also a deadly distraction. Focusing on the end game, finding and killing their enemies, has to remain his priority.
But Brad completely underestimates the power of his connection with Pearl.
And he can’t shake the niggling feeling that there’s more to her than meets the eye.
Pearl Kennedy was saved from the clutches of human traffickers by one of the world’s most notorious criminals—Brad Black. Since being taken back to his family’s mansion in Miami, she’s felt safe and protected, despite Brad’s cold, brusque, and confusing treatment. He should disgust her—he’s flaunted his hedonistic tastes unapologetically. But no matter how hard Pearl tries to fight it, she’s drawn to the lethal, handsome killer.
Yet she knows she’s living on borrowed time, and to succumb to the attraction would be to expose herself and her secrets.
And then it will be just a matter of who will kill her first.
The monsters from her past.
Or Brad Black.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
1
Six Months Ago – Winstable Bay, Miami
* * *
BRAD
* * *
Red. It’s everywhere.
Eyes open, eyes closed.
Red.
Blood, pain, gunshots.
Her hair.
Red.
I duck, the sound of guns firing, bullets flying.
But I still see red.
And then . . . green.
Green eyes looking up at me full of relief. Of hope. I tell her she’s going to be okay. She nods. It’s weak, it’s jerky.
Red.
This time, it’s not blood I see. It’s not vibrant, glossy, shoulder-length waves.
It’s a red mist.
Anger.
She looks down at the crook of her arm, and I follow her eyes to the needle hanging out. Then up the pipe toward a bag. There’s a hair tie halfway up, knotted around the tube, blocking the flow of drugs to her veins. Her jaw tenses, and she yanks it out. Blood sprays the mattress, and I look over my shoulder, seeing Danny hauling a blonde girl up from another bed. Goldie is watching the door, James has another girl in one arm, a gun in the other, and Ringo is carrying a brunette. Every taste in women is covered. Sick bastards.
“We have one more,” I yell. The weight of the other unconscious girl on my shoulder becomes heavier. “Fuck.” I jerk my arm, shifting her up more as I round the bed. “She’s awake,” I call. Smart. She’s smart. And so fucking young. I ask the girl—because that’s what she is, a girl—if she can walk. She gives me another jerky, strained nod as I offer a hand, and her delicate, pale limb reaches for me. She holds on to me so tightly as I help her up off the dirty mattress, the strain on her face painful to watch. The strap of her tank slips off her shoulder.
Purple. Yellow. Black.
So much fucking red, I’m forced to blink back the mist clouding my vision, anger crippling me. Her hand feels for the strap of her tank, missing it, her movements clumsy and disorientated. “Here.” I wince, lifting it back into place, covering her bruised breast. My teeth grind. What the fuck did they do to her? I hold out my hand again, but she doesn’t take it. I look at her. She looks at me. And for a moment, I’m lost, no longer dodging bullets and running for my life. Instead, I’m tumbling into a gaze so expressive. So hopeful.
So fucking beautiful.
Falling.
Just staring.
I feel my forehead furrow and shake my head mildly, trying to realign my focus. But her eyes. I’m a prisoner to them. I need to get her out of here.
And yet for all the will in the fucking world, I can’t move. Can’t even feel the weight of the other girl on my shoulder anymore.
Bang!
It takes that gunshot to break the spell. The girl startles, and I blink my vision clear of the red, looking back. More gunshots ring out, and mumbled yells of panic come from the young women who are drugged up to their eyeballs. “Fuck. We’ve got to go, sweetheart.” She’s quickly tucked into my side, clinging to my torso, both arms wrapped around me to hold herself up as she staggers along beside me. “You okay?” I ask, checking on her constantly, as well as our surroundings. James is raining bullets with no mercy or break, a machine gun in each hand, his face a picture we’re all used to.
Murderous.
We make it outside, and James holds the door while he and Danny have a brief argument over whether he blocks the Polish from making it through or comes with us. We all know Danny will lose. James isn’t moving from that door. Not until we get all the girls on the boat. So I keep jogging, knowing Danny will soon be following. My shoulder is burning, my muscles screaming. “Jesus.” I check on the girl still clinging to me, her weight hanging off my side as she trips and staggers along beside me.
“Brad, you good?” Danny yells, obviously seeing the other girl on my shoulder slipping. He takes the redhead from my side, allowing me to reposition the girl on my shoulder.
“We need to up our game in the gym,” I say, taking the redhead back and picking up my pace, hearing the sound of bullets hitting metal behind us. Fuck me, I hope James can hold that door for long enough.
I look down at the uneven, rocky pathway, catching sight of the girl’s bare feet as I do. If I could be sure it wouldn’t slow me down enough and get us all killed, I’d pick her up.
I look at her as she looks up at me, and once again I’m momentarily lost. No longer running for my life. Fucking hell. I tear my eyes away, seeing the broken, old jetty up ahead. I concentrate on getting her onto the boat before easing the other girl off my shoulder, rolling it a few times, wincing.