Page 7 of Lord of Debauchery

I homed in on what he was talking about, half laughing. “Back away. The fucker is about to blow.” We ran in the opposite direction, but I stopped and turned back toward the spectacle seconds before another massive explosion rocked the countryside. I lifted my head, watching as the flames licked toward the star-filled sky.

“Jesus Christ. What the hell?” James asked as he finally lumbered beside me.

The entire night sky was lit up by the explosion, which allowed me to see the poor guy had blood covering half his face. It was impossible not to laugh. “It’s called a suicide mission.”

“Who the fuck does that?” he pressed.

“The practice was done all the time not so long ago,” Camden insisted. “They knew there was a chance they’d die.”

“Well, how the fuck are we going to get out of here?” Jeff snarled. “On top of this shit, there’s no phone reception.”

This was the epitome of being caught with my pants down. I’d grown far too cocky in my time on this earth, especially during the last few years of increasing wealth. I’d lived a posh life even by rich men’s standards, purchasing whatever toys I wanted on a whim.

Getting soft usually led to a higher chance of being killed. But something continued to nag at me. If the fuckers had wanted me dead, they seemed to have an endless supply of soldiers. Why not attack all at once?

They were probing me for weakness.

“We walk,” I told them. “We find a place to hole up for the night and regroup. Then we begin a hunt.”

Kenya

I continued glaring at the sky even after the two bright orange balls had faded. Even though the property was surrounded by trees, the explosions had been powerful enough both had lit up the sky. Jesus. What the hell had gone on out there?

After taking another sip of wine, I adjusted the flow of bubbles and eased back against the hot tub’s side, trying to imagine what had caused the horrific gas explosion. How horrible for the people living or working there.

The community was small. We’d rally around whoever it was to try to help them as much as we could. That’s one reason I loved living in a small town. People cared, which was a far cry from living in New York where barely anyone knew your name and couldn’t give a shit if you were hit by a stray bullet on the street.

Considered a summer tourist spot, the locals hunkered down during the fall and winter months. That was why this late spring and summer was so important. I had to bank my proceeds because winter meant fewer tourists.

The one thing I didn’t like about living in a small town in the USA was that everyone knew everyone else’s business. The baskets and cookie plates had been nice when I’d arrived in town, but I’d quickly learned the oh-so nice neighbors were simply trying to get the scoop.

My scoop was easy, but not scandalous.

Well, at least it hadn’t been for the last few years and I refused to head back to the girl I’d once been. She was dead and buried.

Leave cheating boyfriend by the wayside—check.

Depart job that, while it had made me a lot of money, had been soulless—check.

Sell half my belongings, including the artsy-fartsy paintings I’d spent way too much money on—check and then some.

This was exactly where I was supposed to be.

To think the asshole of an ex had dared call me not once but three times.

Okay, it wasn’t just because he’d been calling to apologize or crying the blues because he was missing me. It had been all about the items belonging to him I’d made a point of taking with me when I moved.

Including his prized record collection that he’d insisted be stored at my place.

Wasn’t this far more luxurious than listening to his constant phone calls to his unscrupulous clients when we were supposed to have been out on a date?

Yep.

Hands down.

However, if I didn’t climb out of the hot water, I was going to turn into a prune. Laughing, I eased my almost empty glass of wine onto the small table before turning off the jets. As the whirling began to subside, I relished the crisp air hitting my half naked body and the quiet peacefulness the area offered.

Other than the ocean waves crashing against the rocks below, the serenity was amazing. I grabbed my towel, drying off as I took a few seconds to glance toward the churning ocean. Yes, I had to admit it. Life was good. And yes, I had wallowed in self-pity for a while after arriving, but I was finished with that shit. I was stronger than that. Time to take some risks for a change.

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