Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90685 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90685 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
“No. I just wanted to go on record to say I protest the illegalness of the C4 I’m dying to play with.”
Trav’s entire face lights up. “It’s noted. Let’s go and make things go boom.” He goes to his closet and pulls out a T-shirt that will be three times too big for me, but he throws it at me anyway. “You can wear that instead of your bloodstained shirt from yesterday.”
Staying with Trav is dangerous because even the smallest gesture of lending me his shirt sends warmth to my gut. I hope his guys find dirt on Walker soon, or I can see this turning into a broken promise I made myself seven years ago.
Never have sex with Travis West ever again.
I can already feel it. We’re a ticking time bomb waiting to explode.
Like some C4, apparently.
Chapter Eight
Trav
I set some more C4 and attach it to some old junk in a back field on my property. Where I usually try to teach my guys how to get away with the smallest explosion possible, I’m more liberal with Dylan.
Something tells me he’s going to need the distraction from everything he’s going through.
To have someone he’s supposed to trust turn like that … It has to be soul crushing. He’d be questioning everything.
All that military stuff I told him last night, I’ve only shared that with the guys in Mike Bravo. I don’t really know why I told him. I guess I wanted him to feel like he wasn’t completely alone. I know what it’s like to be betrayed by people I trusted.
The only problem with sharing that shit with Dylan is it makes me edgy. I’ve had a long time to deal with my mental scars from the past, and I’ve done well at keeping them under control. I’m a big advocate for therapy, and while I consider myself over the worst of it, bringing it up will always make those memories come back. The feeling of being trapped in a nightmare of my own making—not being able to leave until my enlistment was over, not being allowed to speak out of turn without consequences—it all comes back.
After I’ve finished placing the C4, we retreat behind the safety partition.
“You should imagine Walker’s head for this one,” I say. It’s working for me. I’m taking each and every one of those past memories and putting them in an imaginary box and placing it right next to the explosives.
Dylan looks deep in thought as he replies, “I think I’d rather see Walker rot in prison than see his head blown up.”
“You can’t even fantasize about breaking the law?”
How Dylan has faith in our justice system is beyond me. I might have other men’s blood on my hands, but each and every one of them deserved what was coming to them. That might sound too vigilante for Dylan or go against his own code, but like I told him, I’ve seen what true evil is like.
“Fantasize, sure. There are a lot of fantasies I have that I will never play out in real life.” Dylan says this so nonchalantly that it comes across as forced indifference. He’s totally talking about fantasies about me.
“Aww, baby, all you have to do is ask and I’ll fulfill any one of those fantasies.”
Dylan scoffs. “How typical to think I was talking about you.”
“Hey, I wasn’t thinking that at all. I was kind of imagining maybe some Daddy role play. Want to come sit on Daddy’s knee?”
Dylan shudders. “Look, I’m not going to kink shame anyone for that, but considering I have slight daddy issues, that … does nothing for me.”
“Hmm, noted.”
“No, not noted. This isn’t a lesson on what does it for me in bed. Only people I’m sleeping with are privileged to that information.”
“What about people you’ve already slept with? Do they count?”
“No. We hooked up. Once. A billion years ago.”
“Where, from memory, you came untouched.” I step closer to him.
He’s put his safety glasses on top of his rich dark hair, and his usually calculating eyes hold something else that looks a hell of a lot like lust. “Don’t get too cocky. I can get there with anyone. You’re not special.”
I move even closer. “Can you get there with just anyone, though? Or is this another one of those ‘I have a boyfriend’ situations?”
“Think I’m lying?” Dylan closes the gap between us, looking up at me with a stern poker face. Or is it genuine? I don’t actually know. “You can’t tell, can you? I thought you knew me so well?”
I lick my lips, and he mirrors the action. Our hookup was so long ago, I can’t remember what he tastes like, only what he sounds like when he comes. In fact, I don’t think we even kissed at all. As soon as we’d gone into that bathroom, I turned him and shoved his front against the bathroom stall.