Hard Days Night (The Firsts Book 8) Read Online Free PDF Page A

was a safe place for daylight, and a large refrigerator so he could fill it with good food and wine and just stay here on the beach for a week.  He could breathe.
    A sudden chirp interrupted his calm night, and he glanced down to see that Jacob was calling.  Ahmose picked up the phone and just stared at it for a few moments, then his thumb hovered over the button for another  few moments before he hit it and held the phone to his ear.
    “Jacob,” he said, his voice graveled from speaking so little for the past 24 hours.
    “Ahmose, are you okay?  Starla is worried.  Koen told us you’ve lost Lamont’s trail, so we expected you to come home. But he told us not to expect you for a while.  He said, and I find this hard to believe, that you are on vacation .  You don’t take vacations, right?”
    “I never have.  The word doesn’t even have a place in my world.  But I find that at this time, I need some breathing room. I will be home shortly. Please assure my little Shoazan that I am well and she must not worry.  Our daughter must feel safe and loved at all times.”
    “Well, she’s going to.  Ahmose, what’s wrong?  This isn’t like you.”
    Ahmose sighed and turned his back on his beautiful moonlit scene.  He drew a long breath. 
    “Jacob, I just wanted time to myself.  For the first time, I just want to have nothing and no one depending on me, needing me, wanting something.  I just need a break.”
    Now Jacob was silent.  Then he said, “I get that. More than you know.  Take all the time you need, my friend.  We’re good here.  Starla is tired, but she’s well, and our daughter is in good spirits.  Everyone needs a mental day off.  Yours has been a long time coming.  Be well, and drink a lot of wine.”
    Ahmose smiled.  “I will.  Don’t let our little mother worry.”
    “I’ll keep her occupied.  Be safe.”
    Jacob rang off and Ahmose dropped the phone onto a wicker chair.  He wouldn’t answer it for anyone now.   Officially, he was on vacation .
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    “God, these nights are long!” Luka moaned.  “I have always hated stake-outs.”
    Mal snorted as she laughed.
    “Like I don’t know that.  They’re even longer with you complaining about it all night.  Here, have another hot dog.”
    Luka groaned, but he took the hot dog that was anything but hot anymore.  He shoved it into his mouth, took a huge bite, and let his eyes wander back to the dimly lit dock.
    “Nothing again.   Let’s just get the fuck…”
     
     
    That was the first thing he remembered when Luka finally woke up sometime later. The damned hot dog . His eyes landed on the green-lit clock on the dashboard and he couldn’t seem to process it.  He knew what it was, but it didn’t make any sense.  Something had happened.  What was it?
    It took a moment to realize he was slumped over in Mal’s car, something red oozed all around his leg.  Shit , was he shot?
    Carefully scooping the stuff onto a finger, he realized the blood looked odd. He held it closer, then touched it to his tongue.  He let out a coarse laugh.
    “Ketchup,” he whispered. 
    But something had happened to him.  He wasn’t right.  He looked over to the driver’s seat, but it was empty, the driver’s side door wide open.  A sound had been intruding since he woke up and he realized it was the alarm dinging that the key was still in the ignition.
    Where was Mal?
    Pushing against the dashboard, Luka shoved himself out of the car and nearly hit the pavement.  Oh, God!  Shooting up to his temples, his hands wrapped around his skull and pressed hard against the pain.
    His head hurt like a motherfucker.  Someone had hit him, and that was why he hurt so badly and had lost consciousness.  But where was Mal?
    Panic set in, which felt odd, because Luka prided himself on always remaining calm.  He never panicked.  But he couldn’t find Mal, and nothing terrified Luka more than the idea of something happening