Authors: Kristin Mayer
Bane
* * * *
Bane
Copyright © 2015 by K. Mayer Enterprises, Inc.
Cover Designer:
Lisa Jay
Interior Designer:
JT Formatting
Editor: Nichole Strauss with
Perfectly Publishable
ISBN-13: 978-1-942910-06-0
All rights reserved.
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products, bands, and/or restaurants referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Visit my website:
http://www.authorkristinmayer.com/
Six Years Ago
I WAS DONE. Finished. Out.
For the past seven years, I belonged to a division of the government that wasn’t on the books. I operated alone. There was a mission: I either failed or succeeded. If I failed, that meant I was dead.
After all the shit I’d seen, done, caused—I had survived. It was a fucking miracle.
I was the best at what I did, but there were times I saw my life flash before my eyes. But when you’re the government’s covert assassin, what else was there to expect. If I was captured, I didn’t exist. If I died, I didn’t exist. If I succeeded, I was assigned my next mission.
The plane wheels screeched as I touched down in Alaska. Finally, I was where I wanted to be.
At times, I wasn’t sure I knew who I was anymore. My identity was erased from the system long ago. For the last three months, I’d been working on getting released from the program. It was a slow process with how deep I was in with Black Division.
Those suits knew I wouldn’t share anything I’d done. Hell, half the time I wanted to forget. After three months of debriefing, the government let me out. Of course, there was an underlying threat.
If we so much as suspect you’ve betrayed this country, consider yourself dead, Mr. Bradley.
Yeah, nothing else was new. I wasn’t an idiot. I knew I’d be monitored for years to come, but they wouldn’t find anything.
In all the dark bullshit that swirled around me, there was one person who kept me grounded over the last two years … Jasmine. She saved my soul before it would have been lost completely to the animal beckoning to take over within me. Finally, I was going to spend the rest of my life with her.
The cabin of the plane dinged and the pilot came on to thank us for flying. Who the fuck cared? All the passengers wanted the same thing—to get off. The only thing I wanted was to see my girl.
Jasmine, the love of my life, waited for me at the front of the airport. I carried only a duffel bag. That was all I’d wanted from my previous life. Everything else I set fire to and tried to forget it. There was nothing good about my past besides her.
The last time I’d seen Jasmine had been a little over six months ago on my last furlough. I always flew her to different places to meet to maximize our time together, but the last time, I’d come here and fell in love with Alaska. Yeah, the winters were shitty, but it was isolated and away from the fuckedupness in the world. There was a true peace. Maybe I’d heal enough to be worthy of Jasmine.
Jasmine knew me as Bane Bradley. On the fly, I’d used it when we met at a local bar two years ago in New York. It stuck. And now, it would be my name for the rest of my life. I liked it.
The government hadn’t even known about that name. All the names of my previous identities blended together, morphing into one. My mother called me
bastard
my entire childhood. That name was also fitting for the shit I’d done. Sometimes a person became a product of where they came from.
The cold air hit my face, and I debarked from the plane at the small airport. It was almost time to see my girl—Jasmine.
I was here. I was home.
Home.
The word lightened the load as I practically sprinted to the front of the airport. Over the phone yesterday, Jasmine said she had some news for me. Her voice shook minutely, which meant she was nervous. When I’d asked,
do you still want me to come?
The resounding
yes
was all I needed. We’d make it through anything else.
Until yesterday, when I’d been released, we hadn’t talked since I’d last visited. But the moment I heard her sweet voice on the end of the line, I knew she still loved me. Jasmine knew I worked for a secret agency, although she thought about it more along the lines of James Bond type shit.
Nothing was further from the truth.
But, it kept her from asking questions and that was all that mattered, which, in turn kept Jasmine safe. As of that moment, all the other shit was in the past and didn’t matter.
A secret smile formed as I thought what I had planned for us. Getting somewhere private was priority—another reason I insisted on Jasmine picking me up at the front versus coming in.
Outside the airport sat the love of my life in her old, tan four-wheel-drive SUV. Another bitter gust of wind hit me, but I made it to the vehicle in record time. As soon as I got in, her subtle vanilla scent greeted me. Oh how I missed that smell.
