Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 88262 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88262 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“You caught me off-guard last night. Try me again and things wouldn’t end the same way.”
“I would love to try you again,” I told him, holding his gaze. “Do you want to take me home with you tonight?”
He picked up a bottle, rearranging more things that didn’t need it. “So that I can actually knock you out this time?”
“Because I want to know how your tongue feels.”
“Shut up.”
“And I want you to clean my cock with it.”
He set down the bottle on the wood with a thud.
“I’m straight, asshole. Not that I’d ever go for a prick like you if I wasn’t.”
For the first time, he’d really surprised me.
Straight.
Why hadn’t I thought he was? Something about his videos, or the way he looked at me, or maybe how he’d touched me, last night?
I was so used to raw physicality that I couldn’t tell the difference between aggression and desire anymore.
My phone buzzed in my pocket and when I pulled it out, I saw the name of the only person in Montana who still wanted to speak to me.
I answered it, pressing it to my ear.
“Dominic. Tell me it’s good news.”
“Good, but also somehow probably very bad,” he said.
I cradled the phone against my ear, glancing up one more time at Max. He was still shooting arrows at me with his eyes, which felt about right.
“Give me a sec, Dominic.”
I picked up my whiskey and downed the rest. I didn’t know how much it cost, so I fished a crisp fifty from my wallet and laid it on the bar.
“All yours,” I told Max, sliding the bill across before heading out and grabbing the phone in my hand again. “Okay, Dom. What’s up? Tell me he didn’t freeze the accounts.”
Dominic had been my financial advisor ever since I’d turned 18, and my friend for even longer than that. He’d always been close to my family, but now that things had gotten even worse between me and my parents, I was glad to know Dom was loyal to me.
There always used to be three of us: me, Dom, and Brody.
Brody wasn’t in the picture anymore.
Dom had stepped up, taking on his role as a bridge between me and the rest of the Lyons family now.
But I knew he had my back above all else.
Unlike certain others.
I’d been waiting for him to call.
“Your father didn’t freeze anything,” he said. “The opposite, actually. He transferred the rest of your money from the family accounts to your personal one.”
“Which means he wants to pay me out and get rid of me forever. So that I don’t tell people about him.”
I heard Dominic pull in a long breath. “It might mean that.”
“And? Anything about Brody?”
“Not a peep,” Dominic said. “Brody seems to be keeping everything close to his chest, too.”
“Could mean he’s trying to fuck with me. Could mean he’s scared.”
Brody, Dom, and I were always a trio. People laughed about it, growing up: Brody, the redhead, Dom, the blond, and me, with dark, nearly black hair.
Three cowboys. Although I’d been the one who rode the most. Dom ditched riding in favor of a career in business, and Brody…
Brody was as fiery as the hair on his head.
I’d always liked him, until things went from bad to worse. He’d been another connection I had to the police force, and it was always good to be friendly with the police.
I watched a crowd of people crossing the road across the street, a group of young, happy couples going from the diner toward an old-timey ice cream shop next door. To everyone else in this town, it was any other night.
For me, it was the start of war.
I’d never had my family’s love. I didn’t have their approval.
But I had their secrets.
My father’s secrets, especially, were stacked inside me like a rigged deck of cards.
Everyone in my hometown had known about my… problematic lifestyle for a long while.
The fighting, mostly. The things I allowed to happen on my property, when people wanted to be violent or depraved. The occasional gambling nights.
What they didn’t know was that my father was more like me than anyone knew. The same Randall Lyons that smiled and hugged them at church, nodded along at town hall meetings, and was buddy-buddy with every sheriff, sharing pots of coffee over brunch?
He wasn’t just cheating on my mother.
He was cheating on her with a minimum of six other women.
I discovered the second phone in Dad’s office one night after he’d been profoundly drunk and passed out early. I’d only stepped foot in there to grab one of his Davidoff cigars, because the guy I was going to fuck that night had a taste for them and I wasn’t going to deny him his pleasures.
Then I saw the corner of a screen light up at the edge of Dad’s desk.