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)
But the closer we get to the ranch, the more I get the sense that Domino is way too eager to get there. And when he smirks at me in the rearview mirror, I know something’s up.
I narrow my gaze at him. “Nothing’s wrong at the ranch, is there?”
“What gives you that impression?”
“You’re too happy about—oh fuck. No. Fucking fuck nuggets.”
Dylan shifts in my arms and looks up at me. “What is it?”
“After all these years and getting so close to the end of the bet, you did it, didn’t you? You finally managed to get someone to redecorate my place.”
“Bet?” Dylan asks as Domino turns into the ranch’s drive.
Everything so far looks usual, but the outside was never part of the wager.
“What bet?” Dylan asks again.
“I already told you I asked Domino to decorate the place, but what I didn’t tell you is that when I first walked in, I genuinely thought Domino was under the impression he’d done a good job, and I didn’t want to offend him by saying how god-awful it looked.”
Domino laughs, the asshole.
“Seriously, for two days on a team retreat out here, whenever anyone asked what was with the interior design and cracked jokes about the designer getting revenge for something I did, I was a good best friend and defended it all.”
“Until one day, I cracked.” Domino laughs some more.
“Then of course, I wanted to make a bonfire out of every piece of ugly-ass furniture and knickknack.”
Dylan perks up. “Why didn’t you? I’d be so down for that. Where can we start? The art on the wall that looks like blood spatter? No, the animal print … everything.”
“I bet him he couldn’t last five years the way it was,” Domino says.
“Wow. That’s a bad bet. You took it?”
“No. I decided to keep it that way for all this time,” I deadpan. “Of course I took it. But the timer’s not up. I still had another year left.”
Dylan slaps my leg. “This is the secret you’ve kept from your team, isn’t it? You didn’t want to tell any of them because they’d sabotage you and move all your shit.”
“Exactly. It’s been a bet between Domino and me this whole time. And now …”
“Now it’s time to pay up.” Domino pulls the car out front instead of heading to the underground parking lot.
Here we go.
“I’m pretty sure we didn’t discuss what would happen if half the house got destroyed during a raid,” I say as we get out of the car and head for the front door. “Shouldn’t that be a loophole or something?”
“Mm, should be, but it’s not. Remember when we made the bet and I asked that? Your exact words were ‘No one is gonna know where this place is. It’s going to be my safe house away from everything.’ And then there were rumors around town about this place, and everyone knew where it was and that Travis West, that ex-military dude who”—Domino lifts his hands for air quotes—“‘still totally does sketchy black ops shit’ owns it?”
“I have no best friend,” I mutter.
Domino turns to Dylan. “Let’s just say, it’s no wonder that merc group found you two so easily. It’s a shame they didn’t stop to think about how dead they would get from taking on the job.”
“Th-they died?” Dylan asks.
“A couple of them …” Domino frowns at me slashing at my throat. “Uh, were injured. Casually. They’re fine now. Not dead at all. Not even a little bit.”
I facepalm so hard.
“They died because of me,” Dylan says.
I turn to him and lay my hands on his shoulders. “They died because they took on a job they weren’t prepared for. They died because Walker hired them to kill you, and if it weren’t for me, they would have succeeded. Do you understand? It was you or them. And I know that’s not going to always sit right with you. I know what happened here will always get to you on some level, but you can’t dwell on the guilt, or you’ll become a shell of yourself. Trust me. I’ve seen it. All of us in Mike Bravo have.”
Dylan nods. “It’s just hard to accept that this is how things are in your life. Where people are constantly after you, and their lives are expendable. Having seen it up close, I understand it now more than I ever have, but it still seems like an alternate reality to me.”
“So, that’s still a no to joining my team, then?”
Dylan looks at the ground, and I know his answer without him having to say it. “Well, you know how much I love the nickname Rogue, but I became a cop and then a DEA agent to be better than those on the force who use their position for power. For every Walker out there, I want there to be a Dylan Rodriguez.”