“Xander,” Sam said in a more serious tone. “Seriously, you can’t kill him.”
Xander shut the door and walked toward the front of the house. The “him” Sam kept referring to was Tony Sanders. An old, rich, and completely horrible excuse for a human being. And apparently, a man who thought himself completely above the law. Last night, CIA Director Hartsfield called Sam to inform her that the other girl—Ashley Thompson—who had been taken along with Carrie, had managed to escape Tony’s home in Beverly Hills. The police and the FBI were already on their way to his house when Xander convinced them to let him finish what he started. Because of Director Hartsfield’s rank, and because the FBI had already heard about Xander’s heroics at the Santa Monica Pier, they gave the okay as long as they could keep surveillance on the house, and as long as Xander promised not to kill him.
Xander walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell. A few seconds later, a total sleazeball answered the door in a tacky maroon silk robe, a hand full of gold rings, and a gold rope chain that dangled an emerald-eyed panther’s head down into his disgustingly hairy chest.
“’Bout time you got here, cable’s been out all night. Get your ass in here and fix it. I got shit to do.”
Tony took a puff of his cigarette, blew a cloud of smoke out his mouth into Xander’s face, then turned around and walked back into the house.
Xander turned around and looked back at Sam. Due to the glare the sun created on the windshield, he couldn’t actually see her, but he imagined she was giving some sort of signal not to kill him. Sam, if nothing else, always had been predictable.
The problem Xander was having was that Tony committed one of the cardinal sins of fighting: he turned his back on his opponent. What kind of man would Xander be if he didn’t teach him a lesson?
Xander smiled to himself, turned back to the house, and practically floated through the front door with only one thought on his mind.
No kind of man at all.
Acknowledgments
First and foremost, I want to thank you, the reader. I love what I do, and no matter how many people help me along the way, none of it would be possible if you weren’t turning the pages.
To my family and friends. Every creative person is neurotic as hell about their creations, and I just want to thank you for always helping to keep my head on straight. And for indulging all of my ridiculous ideas.
To my editor, Deb Hall. Thank you for continuing to turn my poorly constructed sentences into a readable story. You are great at what you do, and my work is better for it.
To Team X, my advanced reader team. You are my megaphone in helping spread the word about each new novel I release. You all have become friends, and I thank you for catching those last few sneaky typos, and always letting me know when something isn’t good enough. Xander appreciates you, and so do I. (Sam couldn’t care less)
I would also like to thank the men and women in the military that do what Xander and his team do, in real life: protect us from the evil in the world. Thankfully what I write is fictional, but we know that your sacrifices are not. That includes police officers, EMT’s, and anyone else that keeps our asses safe.
And finally, to the man/woman who invented pizza. You have contributed more to the happiness of mankind than any other human in the history of time. I think I speak for all of us: thank you.
About the Author
Bradley Wright is an emerging author of action-thrillers. King’s Reign is his fourth novel. Bradley lives with his family in Lexington, Kentucky. He has always been a fan of great stories, whether it be a song, a movie, a novel, or a binge-worthy television series. Bradley loves interacting with readers on Facebook and via email. Click on your digital platform of choice below and join in on the fun.
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www.bradleywrightauthor.com
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King's Reign (The Xander King Series Book 4) Page 24
