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The silky voice caused Reagan to jerk the steering wheel violently, causing her to careen toward the curb. Slamming on the brakes, terror coursed through her, assaulting every inch of her body-if life were a chess match, she lost.Checkmate. "Where is he," she stammered, accidentally slamming her foot on the accelerator, the car lurching forward. Bringing it to a stop, she put it in park so she didn't wreck Stryder's prized Aston Martin.A soft chuckle. "To be honest, I'm surprised he's still hanging around you-unlike you, that boy actually has great potential to rise through the ranks and become boss." When Reagan learns Stryder has been kidnapped, immediately thoughts turn to her mother, Reagan's gut telling there's little time left. In order to save Stryder from her mother's cruelty, Reagan must face her greatest fear. Should she fail, there's no doubt Stryder will die . . .And, his blood will be on Reagan's hands.
"Next thing she knew, a wall of glacial water hit Reagan like a ton of bricks, water forcing its way into her nose and mouth, clogging her airways. Attempting to open her eyes, they seemed to be glued shut as she coughed and sputtered, trying to expel the liquid. Spewing most of it, she took a breath as another wave hit her, drenching her thin hospital gown, releasing what kept her eyes closed.Attempting to raise her hand to wipe her face, her lethargic brain struggled to make her muscles move until she realized her arms and legs were tied to something. Rolling her head to the side, she forced heavy-lidded eyes to open. Searching the blurry, nondescript room, she landed on an outline of a man shrouded in cigar smoke, its acrid odor singeing the inside of her soggy nose. Then? A distant alarm began to trill . . ."
As light above her head buzzed incessantly, Reagan scowled as she coaxed her watch further down on her wrist, checking it for the umpteenth time. The witching hour . . . and, Sticky Joe was late. Crossing her arms, she leaned against the alley wall, grateful the heat of day finally began to wane. In its place, a wave of cooler air wafting from leaky garbage bags dragged across grooved cement, releasing an all-too familiar stench. "Two minutes," she promised herself as she inched away from the stink. "Two more minutes . . ." The daughter of a Boston mafia crime boss, Reagan McGuffin knew her life was different-one filled with danger and duplicity. So, when one of her father's operatives whisked her away to Florida in the wee hours, it was an unanticipated surprise. But, it wasn't until she was settled in sun-bathed South Beach did she fully understand she was there because of her mother. With emotional and physical scars attesting to her fear, night terrors plague her dreams, yet she knows Stryder, her hired protector, is her only solace. As gratitude turns into deep, unrequited love, Reagan finds herself straddling reality and memories, both refusing to reveal truths she needs to know.
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