The Sunset Prophecy (Love & Armageddon #1) by P.J. Day Read Free Book Online Page B

mirror.
    “ Hello,” answered the seasoned bass voice on the other line.
    “ Yes, is this a Mr. Fisker?”
    “ This is Mr. Fisker. Judging by my Caller ID, I’d assume that this is a Mr. Adam Cagle?”
    Fisker paused.
    “Mr. Cagle, do you happen to be one of Jrue of Pit’s messengers?”
    Adam lunged and slammed the door to his office. “Who are you?” he asked, his eyes bulging out his sockets.
    “ I’m an overseer as well, not of Pit like yourself, but let’s just say I might have a stake in your pursuits.”
    Adam froze. His chest began to hurt and he fell backward onto the couch in his office. The workers below his floor most likely bore the brunt of the shocking crack and boom sounds as his weight slammed the couch’s insides onto the floor, breaking the frame. “What do you want?” he wheezed.
    “ I wish to meet with you.”
    “ Where?”
    “ In my office, of course.”
    “ I don’t trust you...I don’t even know who you are.”
    “ Di benedicite hoc plano ,” softly declared Fisker.
    Adam froze and the phone slid down his wrist, almost inserting itself into one of his oversized sleeves. “Yes, di benedicite hoc plano ,” repeated Adam, nervously. “Where are you?”
    “ The FBI building off Sepulveda,” said the raspy and weathered voice. “One hour.”
    Adam hung up the phone. He walked over to the large window in his office and pulled up his pants that had sagged off his last roll. He then turned around pulled out a small glass vial of white powder and a clear glass pipe and proceeded to spill it on his desk. As he bent down for a snort, the realization that the situation might had gotten out of control consumed him. Adam snapped the clear pipe like a twig and tossed it into the wastebasket.
     
     

7
    Eye on the Prize
    M atthew Nix dove straight into his plate. His deep blue eyes focused on the task at hand: devouring the hell out of the French toast in front of him, and refilling his body’s gas tank for yet another hardcore two-a-day that his trainer, Jacob Jacobs, had him do on Fridays.
    “ Baby, slow down,” Keelen said, playing with her last pancake. Her hunger subsided at the thought of revealing the harsh reality of her past 24 hours. She kept it on the down-low so she wouldn’t distract him from his professional goals.
    Matt pointed at Keelen ’s plate with his fork. “Are you going to eat that?”
    “ No. You can have it.”
    Matt devoured Keelen ’s chocolate chip pancake. “Hey, I just wanted to say I’m sorry for not being there for you at times,” he said with a mouth full of mushy goodness.
    Keelen smiled and shrugged her shoulders. “We’re good.”
    “ I just have this one fight left. That’s it. If I win, I’ll qualify for Rio and after that, I could make my own schedule.”
    Keelen grabbed Matt ’s large hand and rubbed his knuckle. “I believe in you, sweetie. You’re gonna win. I know in my heart that you’re gonna win.”
    “ Thanks,” he said, as he forked the last sliver of her flapjack. “So, how’s the audition circuit?”
    Keelen rubbed the inside of her ear with her pinky. The dry, Los Angeles morning air tended to cobble up her ear wax. “Not too good. At every audition, I compete against 30 girls who look exactly like me. At least I still have five good years left in me before I can audition for mom parts,” she said, flashing a crooked smile. “Hey, there’s something I gotta tell you.”
    Matt leaned backward in the booth and pulled back his lips. “Sweetie, I’m gonna make it up to you, I promise.”
    Keelen laughed. “No, silly, it’s okay. I understand you’re trying to accomplish something big. I’d be pretty selfish if I gave you a hard time about your training.”
    Matt exhaled and cracked a relieved smile. “Good. So, what do you want to tell me?”
    “ Well,” Keelen sighed. She paused and leaned in close on the table. “I got fired from my job.”
    “ What?”
    “ Wait...wait...wait,” she said, putting up