Roar (Military Bad Boy Billionaire Romance) (Soldiers of Fortune Book 4) by Aubrey Irons Read Free Book Online Page B

ever going to figure out where Benson is with Logan; "If Lawson trusts her, we should t-"

    "Bryce, darlin, how are you?."

    Fuck . I can feel my jaw tighten at the sound of the Aristocratic, Queen’s English voice I mercifully haven't heard in years. It's like I'm instantly yanked back in time, back into the darkness and back into the grey clutches of addiction. Yeah, it's her. I grit my teeth as I stand, taking maybe a moment longer than normal before I steel myself and turn around to face the woman I'd hoped I'd never see again; "Hello, Sasha," I say icily, hating the smirk in her eyes and the familiarity of her face.

    She looks healthier, I’ll give her that. It’s amazing what not injecting chemicals into your veins or shoving them up your nose will do to your skin and general health and well-being. From the looks of things, she’s probably clean, which is certainly something.

    But she’s still got the same jet-black hair, the same dark eyes like twin black-holes dragging in the light and warmth from a room. She’s still pale, still vaguely vampiric looking, which is sort of right on the money considering the bloodsucker she is. She’s still got that crafty, cold smirk on her face, like she’s sizing up prey or looking for a weakness or chink in the armor with any and every social encounter.

    There’s a coldness that seeps into me, seeing her like this. It’s not a comforting familiarity that her presence brings, it’s all the dark parts of my life from way back then; back when I was another man in another time. Sasha is a ghost from a time in my life that I just want to keep in shadow. She's like the remnants of a bad dream that you get another passing glimpse of in your memory weeks later.  

    It's not what I can tell Peyton thinks it was from the look on her face, even if I am getting a guilty twinge of satisfaction letting her think that. But that’s not what Sasha and I were. Heroin does lots of things for you. A libido is not one of them. Ours was - fuck, I don't know; an arrangement of convenience?

    But whatever you want to call it, that woman had me in her fucking clutches , and I hate her for it.

    "What's your angle here, Sasha." My voice is leaden and cold, almost as if being near this haunting from my past has me right back to the empty nothingness of heroin addiction all over again.

    "Oh calm down, tough guy," Sasha says with far too much familiarity in her voice as she laughs obnoxiously and dismisses me with a wave of her hand that has me bristling. My eyes dart to Peyton, and the icy grip on my chest tightens as I see the recognition written large across her face, her eyes narrowed as she follows the back and forth between Sasha and myself.

    Fuck ; this plan sucks already.

    "I'm here to help, Bryce; nothing more." She smiles at me, as if we're old buddies; "You look well, by the way."

    "I'm clean."

    "Me too."

    "Wonderful," I say shortly, my voice tight.

    "So, you two apparently know each other," Peyton says with the most fake, most insincere smile in the world on her face as she darts her eyes between the two of us.

    "Oh, dear, Bryce and I go way back, you know." Sasha is giving Peyton the fake smile right back, and I'm slowly shaking my head over her shoulder as I lock eyes with Peyton.

    "Super. So where's my brother?"

    Tact; Jesus Christ, Peyton.

    Sasha laughs; a cold, jagged sound; "Jumpy, are we?”

    “Let’s just get to it, Sasha.”

    She rolls her dark eyes, as she pulls a silver case from the back pocket of her black jeans and takes out a cigarette; “My my , clean Bryce is all business now isn’t he?” I give her nothing, keeping my face set and neutral, only shaking my head when she holds the cigarette case my way.

    Sasha sighs dramatically as she produces a small pack of matches and lights her cigarette. She keeps her eyes locked on mine as she inhales, before she turns to lean into Peyton, smoke exhaling through the corner of her blood-red lips; “You know,