Blue Moon #3 (Story of Us Series - Into the Blue) - Sydney Jamesson Page 0,9
I have to trust them to look out for me one more time.”
“I won’t ask who they are, but at least tell me that they’ll be armed and ready to deal with whatever comes their way. Even killing someone if need be.”
I’m smiling and focusing on the stars above. “Oh, believe me, they won’t think twice about taking a life, or two. It’s second nature to them.”
A long sigh leaves her mouth as she prepares to speak. “When are you thinking of setting this up?”
“As soon as possible. The longer we let it drag on, the more chance they have of getting to Ayden first.” Words rush from my mouth, “Will you help me?”
“I’d like to but…”
I interject, “I’ll make it worth your while.”
She faces me squarely. “Not meaning to sound like a mercenary bitch, but how would you do that?”
“When this is over, we’ll tell you the story of us in its entirety, right back to our childhood and the events in between; personal details about our loved ones, our enemies and this final chapter. I’ll give you permission to publish it, and you can see what happens.”
She isn’t convinced. “And what of the irrepressible Mr. Stone, would he agree to this?”
“Leave the irrepressible Mr. Stone to me.” I smile sweetly and press on. “This could be quite a scoop for you. Ayden Stone is big news.”
“No shit!” She chuckles at the spontaneity of her response. “I’m sorry but, so are you, Mrs. Stone.”
“I have my moments,” I say with a smile.
She nods in agreement. “I’m sure you do.”
“Then let’s shake on it. Tomorrow we’ll begin Operation Blue Moon.”
She takes my hand. “Okay. Let’s give it a name, why don’t we? Makes me wish you hadn’t given Luke the night off now. I could do with a drink.”
I turn to the panel just within reach and press the call button.
Within the minute Luke appears, brandishing a tray with two glasses, a bottle of water for me and the remaining half bottle of wine. “Would you like me to pour, ladies?” he asks with a mischievous grin.
“Please do,” Sam reaches for her blanket off the deck. “Were you listening in downstairs? Or are you a mind reader?” she asks, briskly.
I come to his rescue. “Neither. I asked him to stay around earlier in case our conversation went on for a while. Now we can toast to our arrangement.”
“Ah.” She takes a sip of wine while watching Luke leave the deck. “I don’t know who your enemies are, Beth, but by God, they’ve met their match with you.”
Our glasses touch and a deal is struck. I freeze when she takes her phone from her purse. “By the way, Sam, you must keep your phone switched off. We are cruising incommunicado.”
Immediately, she returns it to her purse. “Why am I not surprised?” she asks with a smirk. “Cheers.”
“Cheers.”
ONE SUREFIRE WAY of taking my mind off my shitload of worries is to exercise. I haven’t lifted weights and put myself through the mill in a while—not the way I used to—but tonight’s the exception. Every morning at six I’d work out, work up a sweat and get my head straightened out for the day. That’s hard to do when you haven’t a fucking clue what’s coming your way from one hour to the next.
Take today for instance; there were the usual emails, conference calls and documents to read and sign and then there was a fitting for body armour—just another day in the life of…
I’ll be the happiest man alive when this is over and done with. All I want is a normal life with my wife and family, not some mindless merry-go-round.
Jamie enters the gym with Lester close behind. I clear my head and give Lester the nod. He exits, giving Jamie a pat on the back, and leaves us to our early evening session.
“Hi. You want to get your gym gear on? You’ll need to warm up before we start throwing punches.” I toss the kid a smile.
“Sure.” He pulls his hoodie over his head while scoping out the room. “This is a cool setup.”
“Thanks. I used to come down here a lot.” I reach for the towel and wipe my damp neck and shoulders. “You should come over here first and do some stretches.”
Wearing a sleeveless T-shirt and shorts, he makes his way over—minus shoes. He’s lean in the extreme, there’s barely enough muscle on his bones to hold his body together.