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The Protector (Game of Chance, #1)(3)

Author:Susan Stoker

“Bring it,” he taunted. “On the count of three. One, two, three!”

JJ fisted his hand while Cal held his flat.

“Damn,” JJ said with a sigh.

“I was gonna go rock, but I don’t think I can curl all my fingers,” Cal joked.

It was true, some of his friend’s fingers were mangled and most certainly broken. Hatred for their captors almost overcame JJ, but he forced the feeling down. There would be a time later to let out his anger; for now, he had to keep his cool. His teammates were relying on him to be their anchor.

“I can’t believe we’re letting the one guy who’s not from the US pick where we live,” Bob groaned.

JJ was somewhat amused about that himself, but a deal was a deal, and since Cal won the game, he’d get to decide where the four of them settled. “You win,” JJ told his friend. “My choice was going to be Nashville. So . . . where are we setting up shop, Cal?”

“Maine. There’s a town on the western side of the state, close to the New Hampshire border, called Newton. I saw a newsclip about it once.”

“Are you shitting me?” Bob asked. “Maine? Please tell me Newton is a city.”

Cal grinned. It was lopsided, and the movement made blood drip from his cheek down to his bare chest, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“Nope. It’s in the middle of nowhere. I don’t think they even have a stoplight. There’s snow on the ground for six months of the year, and the only place to shop is a Dollar General. The population is tiny, like twelve hundred or so. From what I saw on the clip, it looked like heaven.”

“Fuck me,” Bob groaned. “What the hell are we going to do for a living in a town like that?”

JJ sighed. It was a good question. “I know what we’re not going to do,” he blurted. “Anything to do with security. Or being a bodyguard. Or private investigations. Too many people get out of the military and do that shit anyway. I’ve had enough of guns. Of death. Of putting my life on the line for others. I want to do something . . . normal.”

“I agree,” Chappy said seriously.

“Me too,” Bob said. “But seriously, what will we do? Let’s face it, we aren’t actually qualified to do much more than what we’ve been doing.”

There was silence for a moment before JJ said, “Let’s take some time to think about it. Think about Maine. Think about what you enjoy doing in your spare time—and no laughing. Yes, I realize we haven’t had much spare time, ever. Maybe something you’ve always wanted to do but haven’t had the opportunity. Then we’ll Rochambeau again.”

JJ had no idea if they’d actually follow through, if they’d really let a game decide their fate, but the more he thought about moving to Maine, the more the idea appealed. He’d had his fill of mankind. People were endlessly cruel. He and his men knew that firsthand. Too many people were self-centered, entitled, concerned only about themselves, and too willing to shove their beliefs down other people’s throats. With every passing year, there was less tolerance for differences, for accepting people as they were.

JJ was sick of all of it. He’d happily move to a quiet, sleepy little town and eke out a living with his friends, even if it made his dream of starting a family far less likely. Finding a woman who could look beyond what he’d done in the military and love him for who and what he was would be a whole lot harder in the wilds of Maine.

Ten minutes or so went by, and it was Chappy who said, “Are we ready?”

“Let’s do this,” Bob replied firmly.

JJ played Bob in the first round, and Chappy played Cal. Then, it was Chappy and Bob in the final round.

Chappy made a fist and Bob held up two fingers.

“Shit! I never win this stupid game,” Bob griped.

Everyone chuckled.

“So? What’re we doing for the rest of our lives?” JJ asked Chappy.

“Lumberjacks,” he said with a wide grin.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Cal griped.

“Nope,” Chappy said with the same shit-eating grin on his face. “I figure Maine has trees. A lot of them. I’m sure they’re always falling over in people’s yards and on roads and stuff. We can start a tree service. Cutting them down, pulling up stumps, things like that.”

While Bob and Cal groaned, JJ nodded. “The Appalachian Trail is in Maine too. I’m not sure how close it is to Newton. Cal? Do you know? Did the show say?”

“They talked about the ‘AT,’ but I didn’t know what that was,” Cal admitted.

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