Sharks The King & Slater Series Book Six Matt Rogers Copyright © 2020 by Matt Rogers All rights reserved. Cover design by Onur Aksoy. www.onegraphica.com Contents Reader’s Group Facebook Page Books by Matt Rogers Preface Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Chapter 43 Chapter 44 Chapter 45 Chapter 46 Chapter 47 Chapter 48 Chapter 49 Chapter 50 Chapter 51 Chapter 52 Chapter 53 Chapter 54 Chapter 55 Chapter 56 Chapter 57 Chapter 58 Chapter 59 Chapter 60 Chapter 61 Chapter 62 Chapter 63 Chapter 64 Chapter 65 Chapter 66 Chapter 67 Chapter 68 Chapter 69 Chapter 70 Chapter 71 Chapter 72 Chapter 73 Chapter 74 Chapter 75 Chapter 76 Chapter 77 Chapter 78 Chapter 79 Chapter 80 Chapter 81 Chapter 82 Chapter 83 Chapter 84 Chapter 85 Chapter 86 Chapter 87 Chapter 88 Chapter 89 Chapter 90 Chapter 91 Chapter 92 Chapter 93 Afterword Afterword Books by Matt Rogers Reader’s Group About the Author Join the Reader’s Group and get a free 200-page book by Matt Rogers! Sign up for a free copy of ‘BLOOD MONEY’. Meet Ruby Nazarian, a government operative for a clandestine initiative known only as Lynx. She’s in Monaco to infiltrate the entourage of Aaron Wayne, a real estate tycoon on the precipice of dipping his hands into blood money. She charms her way aboard the magnate’s superyacht, but everyone seems suspicious of her, and as the party ebbs onward she prepares for war… Maybe she’s paranoid. Maybe not. Just click here. Follow me on Facebook! https://www.facebook.com/mattrogersbooks Expect regular updates, cover reveals, giveaways, and more. I love interacting with fans. Feel free to send me a private message with any questions or comments. Looking forward to having you! Books by Matt Rogers THE JASON KING SERIES Isolated (Book 1) Imprisoned (Book 2) Reloaded (Book 3) Betrayed (Book 4) Corrupted (Book 5) Hunted (Book 6) THE JASON KING FILES Cartel (Book 1) Warrior (Book 2) Savages (Book 3) THE WILL SLATER SERIES Wolf (Book 1) Lion (Book 2) Bear (Book 3) Lynx (Book 4) Bull (Book 5) Hawk (Book 6) THE KING & SLATER SERIES Weapons (Book 1) Contracts (Book 2) Ciphers (Book 3) Outlaws (Book 4) Ghosts (Book 5) Sharks (Book 6) LYNX SHORTS Blood Money (Book 1) BLACK FORCE SHORTS The Victor (Book 1) The Chimera (Book 2) The Tribe (Book 3) The Hidden (Book 4) The Coast (Book 5) The Storm (Book 6) The Wicked (Book 7) The King (Book 8) The Joker (Book 9) The Ruins (Book 10) “The gambling known as business looks with austere disfavor upon the business known as gambling.” Ambrose Bierce Prologue Freeport The Bahamas Teddy Barrow loved his job. Loved the simplicity of it. A timeless cliché, sure, but there’s a reason clichés exist. Something about the responsibility tickled his fancy. Here he was the right-hand-man to the owner, more than just a server. He mattered. If he didn’t dutifully wait the tables, spray and scrub all surfaces after each customer departed, keep tabs on the change going into the register, converse with regulars and tourists alike, listen to any and all complaints, then word-of-mouth would cease and the place would fall into decline. The establishment itself was a large hut, Polynesian in design, with tiki décor to complement the white sand all around. It doubled as both an eatery and a bar. There was good coffee, good food, and good cocktails — the Holy Trinity to vacationers looking for escapism. There were views of Coral Beach and the pristine waters beyond, always sparkling turquoise under the sun. There was always sun. Teddy was British — he figured the novelty of the accent had helped him land the job in the first place — but the never-ending golden rays had bronzed his previously pale skin long ago. The wrinkles that came with old age had deepened after incessant sun exposure, but that was a price he was willing to pay. He loved the Bahamas. He’d met his wife here, considered it home for years, and he didn’t think he’d ever leave. Looking out at the waves lapping the shore as he scrubbed down a tabletop overlooking the beach, he realised his mind was empty. He was fully present. Thinking nothing, feeling nothing. It was bliss. Bliss had been absent in Grand Bahama for quite some time. Last September, Hurricane Dorian covered three-quarters of the island in floodwaters, with winds topping a hundred and eighty-five miles per hour. Freeport, home to most of the tourism infrastructure, was spared the catastrophic destruction that ravaged the east and north, but the airport took significant damage, and access to fresh water and electricity had been temporarily disrupted. Since the start of the year, the city had taken huge leaps forward. Critical business reopened, the airport came back to life, and Teddy had watched as fellow locals accepted the personal and economic toll with the Bahamian spirit that made them the tough and independent people they were. He himself had gone back to work at the tiki hut as the cruise ships and international flights returned to an island rapidly rebuilding out of the rubble. Beaches were populated once more, customers were aplenty, and for a brief period he was happy. He knew his happiness wouldn’t last. He loved most of the Bahamas, but not all of it. A small hidden nook of the archipelago threatened to ruin his life. The customer on the next table beckoned. Teddy nodded his understanding and finished his clean with a sweep of the cloth. He’d mastered the art of the wipe down. He took great pride in the small details, most of which no one even noticed. But he did, and that’s what mattered. There’s nothing like the satisfaction of a task completed to the best of your abilities. A long and full life had taught him that. He approached. The customer was practically a caricature of a sixty-something Brit travelling abroad. Everything from the bespectacled eyes, the pencil moustache, the pasty skin, the rotund belly. It had thrilled him when he was served by a fellow countryman, which Teddy found odd, considering the man could get that experience anywhere back home. The guy said, ‘You take good care of this place.’ ‘Thank you, sir.’ ‘Ah,’ the guy scoffed, waving a hand dismissively. ‘Leave it, mate. Loosen up a little. Look where we are. You can talk to me like a friend.’ Teddy smiled. ‘Just doing my part to make your meal as pleasant as possible.
