Written in Blood: Sweetwater Series Book 2 by A.D. Wilde

Author:A.D. Wilde [Wilde, A.D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dark Woods Publishing
Published: 2023-11-13T16:00:00+00:00

Twenty-One

Zak

I resume my new favorite form of exercise—pacing—while the rest of the team stands around my living room, staring at me like I’ve grown a second head. It’s been four long, miserable days since Harper came home from the hospital. And three fucking days since Sloane first located Brooks in Panama. But he’s gone MIA again, and I’m itching to get my hands on him like a junkie itches for their next hit.

“So, Shep,” Sloane says, popping her gum between her teeth. “How’s your girl doing? Healing up nicely?”

I swipe a hand through my hair and pin her with a glare. “Not my girl,” I snarl.

She flashes me a blinding smile, her unusually long incisor teeth glinting at me. “Jeez. Who shit in your cereal this morning?”

I release a miserable groan and continue wearing a hole in the floor.

“We need to let Osmanov know,” Mac tells me, as if I didn’t already know that’s what he was about to say.

I skid to a stop and face my boss.

“No,” I refuse bluntly, my fists now balled so tight that my arms are aching with the need to put a hole in something. Gone are the days where I was the cool, collected one on the team.

“He’s an ally right now, and not telling him would be compromising the partnership.”

“Because the Federov Bratva are so fucking honest,” I retort sarcastically.

Mac drops his hands to his hips and shoots me an apologetic look. “Unless you have another suggestion, son, our hands are tied. We need Osmanov on our side. As much as I want Brooks back in our custody, he’s not worth the lives of the civilians we risk losing if we don’t have the Bratva behind us.”

“Fuck,” I snap out, then begin pacing again. “Brooks has classified information on all of us and Osmanov. You realize the Russian’s going to go hunt him down himself, right? And you said so yourself … once he gets his hands on someone, we’ll never get them back.”

“Don’t see any other options here, Shephard.”

The room falls into deafening silence until all I can hear is Sloane’s incessant gum chewing. Someone clears their throat, and we all glance over at the hallway to find Harper’s grandmother hovering in the doorway, her vivid blue eyes trained on me. Liam brought the old lady over for a visit while we sort out a plan for Brooks.

Nobody says a word as I stare back at the old widow. She approaches cautiously, then reaches up and pats my cheek with a wrinkly hand. She’s a sweet lady, albeit a little on the insane side, but so far her and I get along just fine. Aside from her mental instability, she reminds me a little of my own grandmother when she was alive. Dalia Shephard was a spitfire in her day. Tough, ambitious, and full of piss and vinegar. Mrs. Hilton is the same. I suppose that’s where Harper gets it.

“Don’t you worry your little heart, soldier. Your opportunity will come. I can feel it in my bones.

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