Page 1 of Handcuffed By the Bounty Hunters

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Roark

Sweat drips from my temples, falling to the brushed concrete floor beneath the bench.

“Think you can handle it, old man?” Cameron asks. “Or do I need to bail you out?”

Punk-ass motherfucker doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut. I’d say it out loud, but I can barely fucking breathe. I choke out, “I got it,” and push the bar up, up, and then onto the rack.

Winded, I sit up and look for my towel. My muscles are burning even while sweet adrenaline courses through my veins. Unfortunately, my towel is looking worse for wear now that we’re at the end of our workout. I grimace as I look at it, hesitant to bring the fabric to my face.

Cameron takes pity on me and tosses me a fresh one. “Here, princess.”

One of these days I’m going to beat his ass. It would be today if my arms weren’t so tired.

He looks like he could do several more reps. He’s six years younger than me, but sometimes it feels more like a decade between us, like the years haven’t worn him down yet. He isn’t as jaded as I am. We’re a bit of an odd couple to be training together, but we both started at Ironwood Security around the same time, and it made sense to train together when we weren’t being indoctrinated into the company.

The door to the company gym swings open and Ryder Callihan, one of the owners, steps inside. He looks smart and polished in his suit, especially when compared to Cameron and me in our sweat-soaked workout gear.

“Oh good, you two are exactly who I was looking for,” Ryder says. “Clean up and meet me in my office.”

He leaves, and Cameron and I exchange a look. A small smile appears on Cameron’s face.

“New assignment,” he says, rubbing his hands together.

“For both of us?” I don’t mind a new assignment, but the last guy I’d choose to work with me is Cameron.

“Oh, don’t sound like it would be the worst thing,” he says. “You know you can’t get enough of me.”

Ignoring him, I hit the showers. Cameron French isn’t a bad guy. He’s a bit brash, maybe a little too carefree. He flirts with anything that moves—men, women, single, married, doesn’t matter, but always dances it back before he crosses any lines.

Me, I just want to do my job and go home at the end of a shift, or head to Low Vice to let off steam. That’s it, that’s my life. The life of an aging man who refuses to settle down with a woman. And it’s fine.

Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Roark, a voice whispers as I finish my shower and towel off.

Cameron catches up with me just outside Ryder’s office on the top floor. “Seriously,” he says, “what do you think this is about?”

“Only one way to find out.” I knock on the door.

Ryder calls out for us to come in and have a seat, so we do, taking two chairs in front of his desk.

Ryder sits on the edge of his desk. “I’ll get right to it. Ironwood is partnering with Hunter’s Guild.”

“Hunter’s Guild. Isn’t that a bounty hunting service?” Cameron wrinkles his nose. “I thought our job is to protect people, not hunt them down.”

“Generally, it is,” Ryder says. “But John Hunter, the owner, is an old friend, and we’re expanding into new services for elite clients. This is an experiment, we’ll see how it goes. Are you two up for it?”

“Why aren’t you asking any of your more seasoned guards?” I ask. “We’re your two newest guys—doesn’t seem like we’d be your first choice.”

He nods. “We’re spread a little thin, helping out the royal family of Caperna. As you know, that’s part of the reason we brought you two on.”

“All right,” Cameron says. “I’m in. Who are we hunting down?”

I give him a side-eye. He’s too eager, like a fucking puppy rushing to join the fray.

“Willis,” Ryder says. “You in?”

“Sure,” I say easily, even though I’m already neck-deep in doubts about working with Cameron. “What are the specs?”

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