Copyright
Note to Readers
In life, there comes a point when all people are forced to pick a side and show who they really are. In the stories, it was always good versus evil—and those with the purest hearts won. However, in reality, nothing was ever that simple.
As a child, Zoey Martin had a favorite maple tree. It stood proud and unyielding in her family’s front yard, a symbol of strength and longevity. She would spend hours climbing around, whispering her secrets into its bark and imagining her future...a future that would bring only happiness and success. Each dream was a bit different, but there was always the same ending—her, standing in front of a crowd of cheering fans, wearing the shining armor of a knight who had once again saved the innocent.
She had relied on the strength of the maple tree and over the years had almost come to take it for granted. It was always there, always shielding her as she hoped to shield others someday. In a way it was her hero.
One day, when she was nearly ten years old, the seemingly healthy limb she had been sitting on snapped beneath her. She had tumbled to the ground. Even now, so many years later, if she closed her eyes and concentrated, she could still hear her leg snapping as she struck the unyielding roots of the behemoth she had loved.
Over the years, when her first boyfriend cheated on her with her best friend, and later when her college boyfriend ghosted her, she thought back to her tree. It was her first hard-learned lesson in the wicked truths of trust—just because everything looked good from the outside, healthy even, it didn’t mean its heart wasn’t rotten.
Since then, Zoey Martin had been happy giving her trust to a few within her family. Her only heroes were their STEALTH team and their teams of courageous contractors.
Even limiting who she loved and trusted, ever since her sister’s death, she felt herself tumbling to the ground. Her family’s work in STEALTH, something she believed in so strongly, had pulled the stable branch out from under her family.
She’d had to move forward in the faith that she was sure she was bringing something positive to the world.
She tugged down the edge of her hot pink dress as she sauntered to the front of the tent. Her high heels clicked on the hardwood floor she had her staff put down just so her shoes wouldn’t stick in the grass. Today everything had to be perfect...especially her appearance.
Rubbing her lips together, ensuring her specially blended-to-match lipstick was in place, she turned to face her audience.
They looked bored, most checking their phones or staring longingly at the bar in the corner of the room. No doubt, the crowd was made up of gold-laden investors, soggy board members and straight-backed rivals. They all held their pints of beer or flutes of champagne like lifelines.
She couldn’t wait to see their faces when the fun started.
So far, it had been two days of looking over the next year’s models of top-of-the-line weaponry and tactical gear, speeches on the merits of self-protection and gun advocacy, and the late-night bar meetings that led to the next morning’s multimillion-dollar deals. And she had one hell of a hangover.
Though their new line of tac-gear wasn’t through the final phases of testing, they were taking orders. And after today, they were going to come flooding in.
There was a smattering of polite but unenthusiastic applause as she took out her prepared speech. She couldn’t blame those in attendance for their lackluster response. Zoey wasn’t one of her brothers. Until recently, it had always been Jarrod who
