Burn Me Anthology Read online

  Burn Me

  An Anthology

  Caden’s Lucky Flame Copyright © 2018 F.G. Adams

  Raging Inferno Copyright © 2018 Janine Infante Bosco

  The Wrong Blaze Copyright © 2018 Meagan Brandy

  Fire Copyright © 2018 Author LK Collins

  Heartfire Copyright © 2018 Tracie Douglas

  Burned Copyright © 2018 Kim Jones

  Crash & Burn Copyright © 2018 Kristen Hope Mazzola

  Safe Burn Copyright © 2018 S. Moose

  Burning Mistakes Copyright © 2018 Aimee Noalane

  When Sparks Collide Copyright © 2018 Kaylee Ryan

  Burning Bridges Copyright © 2018 Myra Statham

  Adrenaline Rush Copyright © 2018 Shantel Tessier

  Sweet Burn Copyright © 2018 Winter Travers

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Caden’s Lucky Flame

  Raging Inferno

  The Wrong Blaze

  Fire

  Heartfire

  Burned

  Crash & Burn

  Safe Burn

  Burning Mistakes

  When Sparks Collide

  Burning Bridges

  Adrenaline Rush

  Sweet Burn

  This book is dedicated to all first responders.

  Caden’s Lucky Flame

  F.G. Adams

  Prologue

  Precision of the hunter.

  Caden Weldon was a man who believed you chose your own destiny. That each person decides his or her own path as they journey to reach their goals in life. Whenever a fork in the road appears, you decide whether to go left or right—take the easy way or the road less traveled.

  For Caden, the road he’d decided to take damn sure hadn’t been an easy one. He didn’t sit behind a cozy posh desk in a high-rise office somewhere in downtown Manhattan trading fucking stocks for over achievers, and he damn sure didn’t spend time on a golf club fairway with a club in his hand somewhere in South Miami. Rubbing elbows with well-heeled in the land of the rich and famous. Sweetly wooing investors to take a chance on his financial advice. Not the case at all. Hell no, he was a behind-the-scenes kind of guy.

  Caden’s job had taken him around the world, and at the moment, it’d brought him to a rented hacienda located outside the City of Angels, home of Hollywood’s elite.

  The damp coldness of this empty place fit his needs for the hunt he’d been commissioned to accomplish by a secret agency within the United States government.

  Caden was a product of good old Uncle Sam, a lethal machine honed for one purpose and one purpose only—to rid the world of those who would prey on the less important members of society. Steadily eradicating the evil that slithered unrestrained around the uninformed human population.

  At the beginning of his career, he’d learned quickly to complete what was expected. He never asked questions about the assignments he was dealt, just performed the jobs to the best of his ability. The results were the only proof that he existed.

  He was a nameless, faceless man doling out punishment when it was required. A solitary entity, a big nothing in the scheme of things.

  He was an unknown threat, always hidden in the shadows, watching and waiting for the moment when judgment would be delivered upon his unaware target.

  If caught, Caden knew he would be on his own to face justice without intervention from Uncle Sam. Especially within any of the third world countries he had traveled in and out of. He had forfeited his rights as an American citizen to protect his country and its people when he’d accepted the role of executioner.

  In his field, there was no margin for error. Only Caden’s handler knew his true identity and was the only individual he had remained in contact with over the duration of this mission. Even the agent had no idea of Caden’s exact coordinates.

  Caden was a predator in search of his prey. The king of the jungle, like a mighty lion on top of the food chain. And he was on the hunt. In his possession was a list of ten names set for execution by his superiors. The only stipulation was the job had to be completed within eighteen months. The way each verdict would be delivered was up to his discretion. No holds barred. Eliminate with extreme prejudice, without a trace. He’d carefully studied each target, their daily activities, and planned the best place for their execution to be delivered. In the last three months, his well devised plans had taken him from the Isles of Greece, to Spain, and back to the U.S. to complete his mission.

  By the end of the week, the last name on the list would be crossed off and he could return to reality, shrouded in the shadows, unknown to those he came in contact with. Only his mind contained a true account of the events that would be recorded in history. It really was a shame, because he was damn good at what he did.

  Caden lifted the handcrafted optic system and peered at the obstacle at two o’clock, approximately ten yards away. It displayed a view at the end of his last target, centered directly within the red tee. He zoomed in, slightly adjusting the projected range, and released the hammer.

  Bull’s eye.

  The worthless perpetrator would breathe his last breath on Caden’s call. The dog’s reign of terror had ended. One spoke less in the underworld’s wheel, broken. The sad reality he realized was, it would only slow the process down until the next sick mind took his place.

  Not his worry.

  Not Caden’s job.

  He was the executioner, and the executioner had sentenced him to hell.

  The Cabricci family business had operated under the radar of law enforcement for years. They were known for selling firearms to the highest bidder. It didn’t matter what affiliation the terrorist cell supported. Money talked. The case file Caden was sent only hit the highlights in regards to the multi-billion-dollar network.

  Only recently had there been a kink in the chain of command when Roman Cabricci, the former head of the family’s crime ring, dropped the ball when he allowed Fallyn Blackwood, the estranged mother of his only child, to remain in the wind for countless years. Word on the street was when she finally came out of hiding, along with Roman’s demise, leaks about the family’s operations were uncovered. Thus, the change in names on his list.

  Caden was now going after Roman’s protégé, his nephew Cade. It was hard not to find some irony in his subject’s name being so similar to his own, but it was a job. One he would not fail. Luckily for the twin sister, she hadn’t shown her hand as of yet. She was off the hook for the time being.

  Cade had been groomed to run certain parts of the family business from birth, which registered on Caden’s superiors’ radar. It wasn’t until his uncle took a bullet and he stepped into the role of leader that he was added to the list. It wasn’t the poor son of a bitch’s fault he was born into the wrong family. Apparently, the kid’s new business adventures in the black market had them worried. He was young and powerful. They didn’t want to wait for his business to reach
the next level.

  It would be tricky, but not impossible. Even though he surrounded himself with an entourage and bodyguards, it was doable. Caden had found the perfect location, and his exit strategy was set.

  Silently, he broke down his rifle and cleaned it, an extension of the hammer of justice held in the palm of his hands. Caden glanced around at the workstation in the corner he used to make homemade bullets, exactly the weight needed for maximum efficiency. This place would need to be wiped clean. All traces of the mission eliminated before he moved on.

  All footprints erased. The same way he’d disposed of the targets on the list; one by one, the mighty underworld elites fell. They no longer registered on his map of life. He moved the case to the bench and exchanged gloves. Once he completed the removal of all evidence, he would leave there and head to the new location he’d found. Then wait until the mark was within his scope.

  Chapter 1

  Déjà vu. The scene before Caden as he peered through the optics system of the M4 rifle was exactly as he had created in the basement. The target was three hundred yards due east surrounded by personal security. His lifetime bodyguard towered over him as they made their way through the mass of people to a waiting vehicle parked on the curb.

  He glanced at the digital band on his wrist. The subway should pass in t minus ninety seconds and counting. Ten seconds later, a passenger flight to Las Vegas would take off. Both provided camouflage, white noise that was needed to continue his mission.

  Caden was prepared. Flipping the bi-pod open, he positioned himself just right on the outdoor advertising structure between the red and black outline of the large sign. The passing pedestrians and drivers had no clue he was there. He was a ghost, blending so well with the background that he became part of it.

  His blood raced from the adrenaline rushing through his veins. One would think he would be used to the feeling, but it was always the same. The anticipation of the unknown and the heat of the afternoon sun as it pounded down on him as he remained completely motionless.

  He’d planned this assignment and was prepared for every possible contingency. He had even made the bullets of gunpowder and lead to the exact weight needed for the distance. He’d reconned the target for the last two weeks prior to the takedown. The target was a habitual creature. His daily routine had not varied.

  Early each morning, he would work out, and then go to his office for the day. He left exactly at six o’clock, and like clockwork, went for dinner at his restaurant, where he continued his unsavory business meetings with his closest advisors.

  Building his psyche, he recalled the reason he was there. Cade Cabricci was a tool. No wonder the perverted douche bag was at the top of the list the government had supplied him with eighteen months ago. This scumbag would be his last target on this mission.

  One chance. The odds were in his favor to succeed.

  It only took one shot.

  Piece of cake.

  This wasn’t his first kill, and it definitely wouldn’t be his last. Caden took pride in his work. Ensuring bad things didn’t happen to good people kept him centered and focused on his mission. His exemplary record of past accomplishments said it all.

  With his exit strategy in place for deployment, there were still many variables to account for when carrying out a plan of this magnitude. Backup plans prepared for each possible scenario, bases covered, but sometimes it was inevitable for a person to rely on instincts to get out of a situation.

  Target was on the move. The sharply dressed perp held his cell phone to his ear and vigorously used his arm to talk to the person on the line, like they could see him. He nodded as a member of his security opened the back door to the waiting vehicle, and lowered the phone. Only a few more steps to the right, and lights out.

  Peering down through the barrel positioning the target within the tee, Caden aimed for the cerebral cortex. Easing the safety off, he slowly gripped his hammer, tenderly, and became one with the lethal weapon in his possession. The slow grind of the mechanism calmed Caden as he pulled back and took aim at the passing train in the distance. First shot. Nobody the wiser to his position, but the long gun barrel was warm and ready. He readjusted his aim and counted down. Five, four, three. He inhaled deeply, held it, and pulled the trigger.

  Finding the mark, Caden expelled the pent-up air from his lungs. Adrenaline hit home as he watched the target’s head thrown sideways on impact, exploding as his body crumbled to the pavement. Chaos erupted on the street below. The bodyguards were hunched down, guns drawn, looking off to the northwest. None of them aware which direction the fatal bullet had come from.

  Satisfaction from a job well done flowed through Caden.

  Target was down, and there was no coming back. His brain matter littered the busy intersection.

  Caden rolled onto his back.

  He methodically began to break down his piece and stashed it into his backpack for transport. Later he would separate it in a safe location to send it back to his home base. Looking around, Caden found the two empty shells and pocketed them, making sure every trace of him was removed. Police reports would only pinpoint the direction the shot came from. He had ensured there would be no leads for them to follow.

  The nearest airport was ten klicks south of his current position.

  Caden had commissioned a private jet to take him to Toronto, Canada, and from there he planned to drive a rental car he had used to enter the country back to Atlanta. Only to stop a few times over the duration, because after all this came a planned vacation. He snorted. Some fucking vacation.

  Caden had been backpacking all over the country for the last eighteen months. Exactly what the shrink suggested—time away from the military to ‘find himself’—what a bunch of bullshit jargon. As soon as he got back, Caden planned on finding a quiet place to retire.

  He glanced around the area. There was nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing to draw attention. Weaving in and out of the crowd, he avoided the street posts and red lights where the city’s cameras would detect him using facial recognition.

  It didn’t take him long until he was sitting on the runway, a glass of Tennessee’s finest whiskey in hand, ready for takeoff. His duty completed. His mission finished. Time to move on.

  Chapter 2

  Nightmares are real.

  The back door slammed, and Elise struggled to sit up from the vulnerable position she was in. She panted hard from the unrelenting pain ripping through her body. You’ll never learn. She should have kept her mouth closed, but of course she hadn’t. Something deep inside Elise couldn’t hold back anymore when the prick had pushed her. She just had to open her mouth when he’d come home earlier than expected, demanding dinner. This is all your fault. Yeah, right. He blamed her for his sorry-ass temper. She should have known better than to mention the red fucking lipstick on his neck. He’d exploded at her outburst. She could still feel his fists connecting with her gut. She would be wearing the marks from his beating for several weeks.

  When she’d found herself lying in the fucked-up mess on the floor, she had bounded to her feet and ran from him. His beady little black eyes had changed, flickered with darkness. If she didn’t get away, she was in for a world of hurt when he caught her. The mangled heap of wood that at one time had been a coffee table probably looked better than she did. Elise was pretty sure she’d landed on top of it and rolled right before his big-ass boot-covered foot caved the center in two.

  The pain in Elise’s ribs hurt like a bitch, but she couldn’t let him get the upper hand. Sprawled out on the floor, she was in a vulnerable position. She pushed up and made it to her knees, and pitifully inched herself toward the ratty leather couch. She had found it by the side of the road a while back, and had cleaned it up to have somewhere to sit in this trashy trailer. The alarming sounds of footsteps on the wood floor grew closer, and she glanced in the direction to see her brother, Arrow, walk into the small living room. Briefly closing her eyes, she tried to calm her racing heart. Adren
aline was such a bitch. She pushes her victims to their limit to survive and then lets them crash. Elise’s body folded in half with relief at the sight of her brother.

  It was not Bowie. Thank fuck.

  Without saying a single word, he bent down, softly grabbing her elbow, and maneuvered them both into the kitchen, so they could have a seat at the table. Silently, he turned, walked to the refrigerator, opened the freezer, and pulled out our go-to ice pack.

  Trying to connect the dots in her scrambled brain, Elise could not remember a time when her big brother hadn’t taken care of her. He was a constant safety net growing up. There was a ten-year difference in their age, and they were closer than most siblings. Arrow had told her their mom had left after she was born. The saddest part was, she wouldn’t recognize her mom if she were standing behind her in line at the grocery store. He’d been her champion so many times Elise had lost count.

  Their dead-beat dad believed in equal rights, right. His fist didn’t care if you were a male or female. Arrow had protected her from him growing up, but there were times he had not been around because he’d had to work. Elise still struggled, trying hard to forget those unwanted memories.

  “Here. Use this.” Arrow handed Elise a small bag of frozen peas and motioned for her to put hold it to the side of her face. “It’ll help with the swelling.”

  Elise grabbed her side as she slowly lifted her arm and tried to hide the excruciating pain from Arrow’s intense stare.

  Bowie had been interrupted before it got out of hand. This time. A prospect had showed up only moments before, or she sure as shit would have been sent to the emergency room. Cannon had a job for him and wanted him at the compound ASAP. Sooner or later, though, Bowie would put her in the ground, and nothing would stop him.

  Elise looked into her brother’s worried eyes and took a deep breath. Fuck, it hurt. The throbbing pain eased a little, until she took another breath. Then it was back, a motherfucker filled with vengeance. Just like the son of a bitch who’d caused it.