End of Day Read online Jewel E. Ann (Jack & Jill #1)

Categories Genre: Angst, Dark, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Jack & Jill Series by Jewel E. Ann
Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 113868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
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Read Online Books/Novels:

(Jack & Jill #1) End of Day

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Jewel E. Ann

Language:
English
ISBN/ ASIN:
B013YPN6QM
Book Information:

It’s never too soon to take your next breath.
Behind tinted windows a few yards from mourning family and friends, Jessica and Jude Day witness their parents’ funeral—and their own. Stripped of the only life they’ve ever known, the Days say goodbye to San Francisco forever.
Six months and two new identities later, the thirty-year-old misfits with elite self-defense skills and penchants for alcohol, sex, and trouble arrive like an earthquake to Peaceful Woods, a retirement community in Omaha, Nebraska, that thrives on rules and gossip. Welcome home, Jackson and Jillian Knight.
Jackson celebrates his new beginning by embracing his job and wiping his cavalier past clean with a temporary oath of celibacy. But Jillian’s past is branded into her soul—the deaths, the insanity, Dr. Luke Jones, and the need to make her lovers bleed. Her chance for redemption comes in the form of a next-door neighbor, one Senior Master Sergeant Monaghan. He’s sexy, dangerously alluring, and riddled with emotional issues from years of service. He’s also … So. Damn. Grumpy.
Their mission is simple: Let go, start over, don't kill anyone, and pray that nobody resurrects their past.
See why critics call this series sexy, mind-blowing, and unforgettable. Their mission is simple: Let go, start over, don't kill anyone, and pray that nobody wakes the dead.
**THIS BOOK CONTAINS EXPLICIT LANGUAGE AND SEXUAL CONTENT 18+
Books in Series:

Jack & Jill Series by Jewel E. Ann

Books by Author:

Jewel E. Ann



Chapter One

Day

Four graves.

Four caskets.

Two bodies.

A throng of family and friends mourned the loss of four innocent lives under dapple gray skies in a cemetery nestled at the bottom of a hillside just miles from the Golden Gate Bridge. A DEA agent and his wife were murdered a week earlier and their two adult children were reported dead in an apartment building the following day. Investigators reported the cause of death—self-inflicted gunshot wounds. Those same investigators collected a bag of cash at a drop location in exchange for their report which led to two empty caskets and headstones carved with the names Jessica Maeve Day and Jude Paxton Day.

“How many people live to see their own funeral?” Knox, the lead Agent for G.A.I.L, mumbled from the driver’s seat of the SUV custom built to meet presidential motorcade standards.

“I could snap your neck and not shed … One. Fucking. Tear,” Jessica Day answered.

The cocky agent chuckled, as any asshole that treated life and death like a business would do. “I taught you everything you know. I’m not too worried.”

“No, you taught me everything you know.”

“Jess,” Jude warned, grabbing her fisted hand and holding it until she relaxed.

“I’ve seen enough. Let’s go.” Jessica turned away from the window and closed her eyes as she released a slow sigh. Why couldn’t she have a normal life? A husband who worked too much but adored her, a daughter with long black hair and an ornery son that loved to pull it, and a dog that dug up the flowers planted along their white picket fence.

How could fate be so cruel?

“We’re gridlocked. We won’t be leaving early without busting up a few cars, which would make a scene. And the last thing we want to do is make a scene.”

Every word Knox spoke brought Jessica closer to the edge. She needed to hit something. She needed to hit someone. The most painful hour of her life passed with every second and felt like an eternity. Jessica didn’t want to live to see her own funeral. She fought the urge to jump out of the vehicle and race to the casket—her casket—climb inside, and let them bury her alive. At that point, no death would be as excruciating as the alternative—living.

“Look at me.” The uneasy tremble to her brother’s voice made her skin pebble, hair standing on end.

Jessica’s heart hid in her throat, sending waves of throbbing pain through her body as tears stung her eyes. She knew why Jude wanted her to look at him. On the other side of the privacy-tinted window was her everything.

How could fate be so cruel?

“Jess, don’t do it … just don’t.”

Jessica looked at her brother the way someone would before pulling a trigger pointed at their own temple—lifeless and regretful. “I have to … I have to see him one last time.”

The heartbroken shell of a woman turned toward the window and there he was, surrounded by his family. Sunglasses hid his deep navy eyes that had pieced her back together as much as his most brilliantly spoken words. His signature tailored suit he wore was black that day. She cursed him for not being more original—a splash of flare in honor of her funeral.

Her gaze drifted to his shoes. Inside she felt a blink of reprieve from the pain, a smile that didn’t reach her lips. He was wearing those argyle socks; she couldn’t see them … she just knew. Jessica knew that man. Jessica loved that man. And in that very moment, she said goodbye to that man. In another blink, the pain returned.

How could life. Be. So. Cruel?

Jude squeezed her hand. “He could come with us.”

“I know.” Her voice cracked under the weight of pain. He already thought she was dead. “I can’t take him from them. I want him … but they deserve him.”

*

The Days were transported to an undisclosed location that defined middle of nowhere, a million miles from civilization—no cell phones, no television, no computers … no alcohol. They were dropped off by plane, literally dropped from the plane with parachutes on their backs. Jessica and Jude were members of G.A.I.L. (Guardian Angels for Innocent Lives) and therefore they were experts in two areas: combat and survival.

Weekly food rations were deposited from the same plane, like aid and sustenance to soldiers. But their war was not a physical war; the enemy targeted their emotions. There were no hidden cameras, but those six months living by themselves in a tiny cabin as they moved through the stages of grief felt like a cruel psych experiment. They mourned the loss of their parents and the loss of themselves.

Cheating death more than once, Jessica had seen so much in her short life. Not once did she contemplate the worth of her own life. Not once did she think a single suicidal thought—until she said a silent goodbye to Luke at the cemetery. Jude spent months pulling her from the ledge, offering his shoulder, and sometimes beating some sense into her. How could the person she mourned the most be the only one still living?

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