Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 65552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
If he wanted a good crew, he knew he had to make them as comfortable as possible.
Plus, Roman really loved a good shower.
“This is incredible,” Wyatt said as they found their way back into the main room. “I’m still not sure if this is all a dream.” His eyes flicked to Roman’s, a spark lighting up in his gut before Wyatt looked away. “Or a nightmare.”
“It’s neither,” Roman assured him.
“Roman, I still don’t even know what I’m doing here. I don’t know why a criminal organization is after me, and I don’t know why you showed up in my life after years of being gone.”
“I hate that it’s been years, and I hate what I did to you, Wyatt. I regret it. Every single day of my life, I wish I could turn back time and make it right by you. You should have been the one staying at Yale, and I should have been the one kicked out.”
“It’s not even just about getting kicked out, Roman. I almost went to jail. I almost lost everything. My sister would be out on the streets right now if I wasn’t around, if I had ended up on Rikers for the rest of my life. I still have full-blown fucking night terrors about that time. Sometimes I wake up crying, thinking that my bedroom is a jail cell.”
Roman felt his heart start to crack around the edges. Years of being in his business meant a hardening of his emotions, built through the scar tissue that comes from getting backstabbed and used. That callous shell grew around him, encasing him and distancing him from the emotional soul he used to have.
But one puppy-dog-eyed look from Wyatt ripped away at the protective layer. “I’m sorry, Wyatt. I wish I could offer more than words right now, but if those aren’t enough, then I can promise you that once this job is done, you and your sister will have everything you’ve ever dreamed of and more.”
“What is it, then? Why am I here, Roman?”
Roman could spot a slight tremble in Wyatt’s shoulders as he looked around. He was right. Roman had kept him in the dark for long enough. It was time to lay it all out on the table. Wyatt deserved at least that much. Even though Roman liked to keep as many cards close to his chest as he could, he knew that in this instance, being as open with his crew as possible would lead to the best results.
“Alright,” he said, turning to Mustang, who was munching on a pickle straight out of the jar. “Get the group together. We’re having a meeting.”
Chapter 7
Wyatt Hernandez
Wyatt sat on the edge of the couch, perched like a rare bird ready to take flight at the slightest provocation. It had only taken fifteen minutes for Roman to gather his crew, the room filling with friendly banter and relaxed laughter. It was clear to Wyatt that this team had chemistry, but what the hell was Roman using them for? He’d always been into some black-hat kind of tactics—hence the immense rift between them, Wyatt preferring to stay on the right side of the law—but had he turned his passion for shady shit into a full-on professional crime ring?
“Here, drink this.” It was the girl they called Mustang. Monica was her real name, but Wyatt could see where her nickname had been derived from, his neck still sore from the whiplash with some of her turns.
“What is it?”
“Vodka.”
Wyatt lifted up the full glass, eyes wide.
“Joking. It’s water. Although you might wish it was vodka by the end of all this.”
She went over to plop down on her beanbag, whipping out her phone and scrolling with the same speed she drove with. Wyatt took a gulp of the cool water, sitting back down and observing the gathered group, all of them different but effortlessly blending together.
“Where’s Mimic?” the big burly one asked. Bang Bang was his name. Wyatt remembered him from the science museum, when he came in with his golden pistol and nearly shot a man’s head off. Under normal circumstances, Wyatt would be working to get as far away from him as possible, never a fan of guns or those who enjoyed them as much as Bang Bang seemed to.
But nothing about this was normal. Nothing.
“She should be here soon,” Roman said, leaning on the back of a green velvet armchair. Wyatt didn’t want to think about how attractive he looked, wearing a black V-neck shirt that dipped down a muscular chest, highlighted by four silver necklaces, one of them appearing like thick chain links that wrapped right around his neck. He tried not to think about how good Roman looked in the dark jeans that shaped themselves around his meaty thighs. He definitely didn’t want to think about all those nights he had spent getting lost in those crystal-green eyes, hands trailing up and down that muscular body, tender kisses morphing into hungry moans.