Read Online Roar (Military Bad Boy Billionaire Romance) (Soldiers of Fortune Book 4) by Aubrey Irons - Free Book Online
Authors: Aubrey Irons
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code was written during Viet-fucking-nam, Bryce.”
I look at him grimly; “If I leave the cloth for any other reason, my life is forfeit; I know that. But I gotta get out, Rory; I gotta-”
“Long as you come the fuck home afterwards, I’ll back you.” Rory shoots me a hard look; “Just come home, brother; after you see the world and clear your head.”
Right, after I clear my head fighting a war of ideals in the Goddamn desert on the other side of the world.
And of course, that Bryce never does come home. That Bryce dies out there in the desert along with that other Hudson, and that other Logan. Because the men who come out the other side of that? Yeah, no one knows who they are.
Least of all them.
*****
P R E S E N T
"I don't want you doing this."
I'm leaning against the doorframe of the hotel bathroom watching her finish putting makeup under her eyes, batting her lashes at her own reflection as she puts the finishing touches on. She looks fucking incredible, of course, which is putting me on edge; on edge because she's looking like this ready to go out with another man.
And not just any guy. I mean I know about Hugh back home, but that's different; sort of. That's mostly out of sight and out of mind, and Hugh isn't some thuggish psychopath working for Blackriver. I don't know shit about this Anderson guy, but I know enough to know he’s a predator, and her wearing that fucking sexy little evening dress she's wearing has her looking every inch like prey.
Peyton turns and shoots me a look; that blazing fucking defiance every step of the way.
"It's dangerous and it's risky."
"I'm a big girl," She says patronizingly, patting my shoulder and pushing past me out out of the bathroom.
We seriously need a new hotel room, even if they did fix the door after some strange looks and muttered questions from the front desk.
"I'm going to be right there, if anything happens, just-"
" Bryce ,” She levels her gaze at me; "I'm a big girl and I can handle myself. It's going to be fine ."
Yeah, it's all fine watching you flirt with another guy, even if it is for the mission.
I can already feel my blood boiling.
*****
Anderson is every inch as piggish and thuggish looking as I expected, being one of Benson's guys. Jesus, does that guy hire a type or what.
He's red-faced and sweaty, bulky in that meathead way as he steps into the restaurant. I keep my head facing forward but my eyes are glued with a vengeance to the man as he scans the room, locks onto Peyton, and grins before he elbows his way through the crowd to the table next to mine.
"Hey, babe."
"Hello," She says in a sultry voice that has me gritting my teeth and making a fist under the table; all charm and temptation.
It's for the mission; it's for getting Logan back.
"So you must be Sasha's friend. Damn girl, you're way hotter than she said you'd be!"
Jesus Christ is this guy for real? I can feel my hands clenching in my lap.
"Oh, well, thank you!" Peyton gushes, like that was some sort of charming fucking compliment.
"Hey! Waiter!" Anderson barks, making me cringe again. This guy is the fucking worst; “Let's get two drinks over here."
"Oh, I- I don't drink," Peyton says with a smile.
He laughs; "What! Who the heck doesn't drink?"
People who lived through the worst parts of addiction or have seen the devil that comes out of the bottom of a bottle, that's who, you fucking prick.
Anderson laughs again; "Fuck that, ‘course you do!"
"No, I really don-"
"Waiter!" The older waiter comes over, his face neutral but cloudy as he smiles thinly at Anderson; "Two whiskies. Whiskey OK with you, babe?"
"I don't drink ,” She says quietly, her voice on edge. I can feel my teeth grinding.
"Yeah two whiskies should do it, pal," Anderson says, shooing the waiter away. He turns back to Peyton, this woman he has no business even looking at, and he doesn't even seem to realize that; "So, here we are,
I look at him grimly; “If I leave the cloth for any other reason, my life is forfeit; I know that. But I gotta get out, Rory; I gotta-”
“Long as you come the fuck home afterwards, I’ll back you.” Rory shoots me a hard look; “Just come home, brother; after you see the world and clear your head.”
Right, after I clear my head fighting a war of ideals in the Goddamn desert on the other side of the world.
And of course, that Bryce never does come home. That Bryce dies out there in the desert along with that other Hudson, and that other Logan. Because the men who come out the other side of that? Yeah, no one knows who they are.
Least of all them.
*****
P R E S E N T
"I don't want you doing this."
I'm leaning against the doorframe of the hotel bathroom watching her finish putting makeup under her eyes, batting her lashes at her own reflection as she puts the finishing touches on. She looks fucking incredible, of course, which is putting me on edge; on edge because she's looking like this ready to go out with another man.
And not just any guy. I mean I know about Hugh back home, but that's different; sort of. That's mostly out of sight and out of mind, and Hugh isn't some thuggish psychopath working for Blackriver. I don't know shit about this Anderson guy, but I know enough to know he’s a predator, and her wearing that fucking sexy little evening dress she's wearing has her looking every inch like prey.
Peyton turns and shoots me a look; that blazing fucking defiance every step of the way.
"It's dangerous and it's risky."
"I'm a big girl," She says patronizingly, patting my shoulder and pushing past me out out of the bathroom.
We seriously need a new hotel room, even if they did fix the door after some strange looks and muttered questions from the front desk.
"I'm going to be right there, if anything happens, just-"
" Bryce ,” She levels her gaze at me; "I'm a big girl and I can handle myself. It's going to be fine ."
Yeah, it's all fine watching you flirt with another guy, even if it is for the mission.
I can already feel my blood boiling.
*****
Anderson is every inch as piggish and thuggish looking as I expected, being one of Benson's guys. Jesus, does that guy hire a type or what.
He's red-faced and sweaty, bulky in that meathead way as he steps into the restaurant. I keep my head facing forward but my eyes are glued with a vengeance to the man as he scans the room, locks onto Peyton, and grins before he elbows his way through the crowd to the table next to mine.
"Hey, babe."
"Hello," She says in a sultry voice that has me gritting my teeth and making a fist under the table; all charm and temptation.
It's for the mission; it's for getting Logan back.
"So you must be Sasha's friend. Damn girl, you're way hotter than she said you'd be!"
Jesus Christ is this guy for real? I can feel my hands clenching in my lap.
"Oh, well, thank you!" Peyton gushes, like that was some sort of charming fucking compliment.
"Hey! Waiter!" Anderson barks, making me cringe again. This guy is the fucking worst; “Let's get two drinks over here."
"Oh, I- I don't drink," Peyton says with a smile.
He laughs; "What! Who the heck doesn't drink?"
People who lived through the worst parts of addiction or have seen the devil that comes out of the bottom of a bottle, that's who, you fucking prick.
Anderson laughs again; "Fuck that, ‘course you do!"
"No, I really don-"
"Waiter!" The older waiter comes over, his face neutral but cloudy as he smiles thinly at Anderson; "Two whiskies. Whiskey OK with you, babe?"
"I don't drink ,” She says quietly, her voice on edge. I can feel my teeth grinding.
"Yeah two whiskies should do it, pal," Anderson says, shooing the waiter away. He turns back to Peyton, this woman he has no business even looking at, and he doesn't even seem to realize that; "So, here we are,
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