I didn’t care who I aimed at. You paid me, I pulled the trigger. I sold my skills to the highest bidder and trust me, I had skills. The Marines didn’t train me to only aim a sniper rifle, they taught me to get the job done—at any expense.
Except hostage recovery wasn’t on my short list. I made people disappear, I didn’t find them. I didn’t give a shit the personal security firm that’d hired me was paying double to get some rich businessman’s daughter back without casualties. I didn’t negotiate with terrorists. Ever. I had my own plan. Take out anyone in my sights, recover the hostage, and get out. But then I laid eyes on the half-naked, bleeding brunette, and I changed my mind. I was gonna do a hell of a lot more than simply pull the trigger.
Now they were gonna find out how fearless a bodyguard could be.