Page 6 of Shadow Lies

Had she surprised Charley? Score one for the home team.

Feeling cocky, Alexis said, “Yup. Did I earn my money?”

“What is he doing there?”

“Studying to be a Kung Fu Master. And possibly a monk,” she added since according to the one site she skimmed, it looked like the masters were all monks.

That was one reason why she was having a really hard time wrapping her head around Kane being there. She’d heard her sister and Kane through the wall of the bedroom.

The man didn’t seem the type to willingly become celibate.

Charley let out a, “Hmm.”

“I know. It’s a shocker. Right?” So was the fact she was agreeing with Charley.

“Not exactly. It makes sense,” Charley said in her trademark tone that was somewhere between therapist and phone sex operator.

“Does it?” Alexis snorted. “I’m glad it makes sense to you because it doesn’t make a bit of sense to me.”

“There are things you don’t know.”

“No doubt. But I bet you know them.”

“We do. Thank you for your assistance, Alexis.”

“Wait. What about my money?”

“There will be an envelope waiting inside your apartment when you arrive home.”

Inside her apartment? They knew where she lived? “Wait. What?”

The call went dead. And Alexis hoped she didn’t end up the same way. She had a feeling for all her politeness, Charley and herwewere very dangerous people. And she’d just gotten in bed with them.

ChapterThree

After earning his SEAL Trident, Kane thought nothing would ever rival the challenge of Hell Week.

He’d been wrong.

Training with the master warrior monks at the Shaolin Temple challenged him mentally and physically like BUDs never had.

The only thing missing at Shaolin was the Navy’s unique torture of lying in the sand while being battered by the cold Coronado surf.

Even after nearly a year of life in the Shaolin monastery, the monks still impressed him and outdid him every day.

He got in a few good shots now and again, but they routinely beat him in sparring.

He’d been consistently bruised, sore and hurt to various degrees in various places on his body, and grateful for the miracles of Chinese medicine, since the day he’d arrived.

And every morning he’d wake before the sun rose for another day of Buddhist study, temple chores and mainly, twice a day for up to three hours each session, kung fu practice.

His day ended at eleven p.m. when he was grateful to be exhausted enough to sleep through the night to wake again six hours later.

He’d come to them in what he’d considered peak physical condition. His mind and his soul had been broken, but his body had been in top shape. Yet the monks had then and continued to now push him toward greater endurance than he’d ever achieved in the teams.

The monks possessed strength, precision, and agility he could only hope to equal one day through hard work and practice. But they also possessed tranquility. A peace of mind he knew he’d never achieve, no matter how many months—or lifetimes—he trained with them.

“Brother.”

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