Prologue
Chase Tenley studiedhis lifelong friends, Squadron 7 as Brandon had nicknamed them years ago, seated around a conference table at Brandon Richards’ Dallas high-rise office building. The sun was setting to the west, and they had a glorious view of the city, but none of the men so much as glanced out the window. Everybody was focused on Brandon, who stood bouncing on the balls of his expensive cowboy boots at the end of the table. A bundle of energy, as always.
“You’redying?” Robbie Perrine asked, rubbing at the thick dark beard that obscured half of his face. “Brain cancer?”
Robbie looked like Jason Momoa, with a few less tattoos. He had been an Army Ranger with Chase. The two of them had retired after fifteen years when an assignment went very wrong. Retirement was the best option, knowing he and Robbie had put a stain on their Ranger unit and would hurt their buddies’ chances for advancement and challenging assignments. They couldn’t do that to their brothers.
Instead of going back to Georgia where Chase was a welcome guest with each of his friends’ families but not truly family, Chase had relocated to an out of the way valley in Arizona andgotten a job as an officer with the Jade Valley police department. It was a hefty drop in challenge, prestige, and pay, but he liked the mountainous red cliff valley and most especially the people.
Robbie had signed on to be a security specialist for the famed Aiden Porter. Still saving the world. Robbie was his closest friend in Squadron 7 and among their Rangers unit, but they still only saw each other a few times a year and occasionally reached out via text or a phone call. Not sure what that said about Chase and relationships, or lack thereof.
“Yep.” Brandon’s perma-grin didn’t waver before, during, or after the pronouncement of his imminent death. “I’m feeling fabulous at the moment, but the doctors who have been privileged to study my big brain claim I’ll go downhill quick at the end.”
“No reason to look so happy about it.” Emmett tried to lighten the mood. He was the athlete, a wide receiver for the Texas Titans.
“Nothing gets me down. You all know that better than anybody.” Brandon spread his hands, looking like the multi-billionaire he was. He came from generational wealth, and not even the playboy could burn through the passive income accumulated by generations before him.
Chase loved Brandon, as he did all the men seated around the table. Despite Brandon’s privileged upbringing and the gaggle of giggling women following his friend around, Chase had never been jealous or wanted to step into his friend’s fifteen-thousand-dollar Lucchese boots. He only knew the price tag and brand of Brandon’s boots because his friend loved to brag about inconsequential garbage like that. Brands, status, posturing, and money had never been important to Chase. That was fortunate, as he’d never attain any of them.
Squadron 7 had been fiercely loyal to each other since they started playing football together in middle school in Marietta,Georgia. They were a diverse group, and all had each other’s backs, but he couldn’t say he trusted Brandon as implicitly as he did the other five. Their ringleader usually had a trick up his sleeve, and he always got the last laugh.
Of course Brandon would be smiling about his imminent death. Unless … could the prognosis be a false claim, a ploy to get them all to do something they’d never be able to live down?
Chase pushed that ungracious thought from his head. Who would do that?
Brandon would.
He had asked them all to get two weeks off this June, flew each of them to Dallas in first class, and promised them the ‘trip of a lifetime’. Their group attempted an annual get-together in June for a few days every year, had even dubbed it the Squadron 7 Bye Week. They usually spent the time together in Brandon’s Park City home—golfing, playing pickleball, hiking, mountain biking, and eating out.
Chase, Robbie, and Rockwell had missed several of the yearly reunions during their time in the military. Brandon had begged everyone to make this two weeks a priority, and everyone had. His imminent death was a spin on things nobody had expected. Apparently Brandon had planned the longer two-week trip because it would be his last hurrah. That stunk.
“I get dibs on Madelyne,” Parker, the brilliant jokester of the group, quipped.
Everyone groaned and gave Parker disgusted but not surprised looks. Brandon’s grin only grew.
“Seriously, Parker,” Nelson, the well-liked, down-to-earth construction owner, muttered. “Not chill.”
“Come on; tell me you weren’t thinking it,” Parker protested. “The hottest woman on earth will be single soon.” He winked at Brandon, who didn’t look bothered at all.
“Some of us know the meaning of the wordtact,” Nelson said. He brushed a hand at his hair. His Stetson sat on the end of the table. He reclined back and crossed one leg over the other, revealing nice Tecova dress boots but not a fifteen-grand price tag like Brandon’s.
It was the flash of ire in Rock’s dark eyes directed at Parker that surprised Chase. Built like a lethal weapon, larger than even Robbie, Rockwell had been on the elite Delta Force. He’d surprised all of them by retiring last year and choosing to be Brandon’s head of security.
Chase knew Brandon and Rock were close, but it appeared maybe the Rock had grown close to Brandon’s ‘assistant’ AKA ‘model-gorgeous girlfriend’ Madelyne as well. Was Rock hoping for a chance to date Madelyne after Brandon passed like Parker had joked about? That was morbid and didn’t fit Rock’s mode of operation at all.
“What can we do for you?” Chase asked Brandon. He was considered the ‘nice guy’ of the group. Very few people outside their former Ranger unit knew he excelled at hand-to-hand combat and small arms. He’d only needed his specialties a few times in Jade Valley.
He often wished he could erase and forget the kill list he’d compiled as an Army Ranger and keep the connections he’d made. His Ranger unit and these six men were his brothers. He’d never known a solid, loving family of his own being shuffled through foster care until he aged out. If not for these guys and their welcoming parents and siblings, he’d most likely be on drugs or in prison.
“Ah, Chase. I knew you’d be the one to ask that question.” Brandon rounded on him, his smile so wide his cheeks crinkled and his eyes almost disappeared. Brandon wouldn’t be considered classically handsome by anyone with his craggy faceand prominent chin, but his wealth and confidence made him ‘magnetic’ to most of the female population in the world.
Brandon pulled out a chair and plopped down on it, shocking all of them. He rarely sat. He leaned onto the polished quartz table with his elbows and zeroed in on Chase. “My favorite friend …”
Parker hurled his water bottle at Brandon, and Nelson groaned good-naturedly.
Brandon deflected the water bottle and chuckled. “Okay, okay, one of my favorites of my six lifelong friends.” He looked carefully around the table. “This all has to stay between us. If the word spreads, my stock will go to pot and then how will I afford to jet set around the world with my lovelies?”
“Rough life,” Emmett said.
