Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 67144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
“Speaking of which, will you pay me back for dinner?”
I ignore him. “But the danger I used to get off on isn’t thrilling anymore. The high-pressure shit isn’t as exciting.”
“So take a vacation.”
“And then what? Sit around, thinking about all of the shit that’s gone wrong in my life?”
“I hear it’s good to face your demons.”
“Then why don’t you do it?”
“I’ve been fucking Lola. I’ve done more than face a demon lately. A demon would be a walk in the park.”
I grin.
“Maybe you need someone to spend time with. Have you seen anyone in a while?”
“This isn’t a problem I can fuck my way out of, Trav, but thanks.”
“It couldn’t hurt to try.”
Instead of answering him, I flip on the television.
“Leave it to you to watch the local evening news,” Travis says. “I didn’t know that was still a thing.”
I motion for him to pay attention to the headlines and not me.
“Have you seen anyone in a while?”
Travis’s question wasn’t meant to be serious … I don’t think. Little does he know that’s the crux of my problem.
I’m fucking lonely.
A burning sensation prickles my chest.
It hit me a few weeks ago in the middle of the night. I woke up at three in the morning after a nightmare and, for the first time in my life, wished that someone was here. That I wasn’t alone. That the bed beside me wasn’t empty. That someone might be here when I came home from work, excited to see me.
The idea has followed me ever since. Eating alone has bothered me. Sitting in the living room and reading a book by myself feels off. Everything I’ve done, everything I’ve enjoyed up until the nightmare, all feels … wrong. Less. Incomplete.
But what can I do?
Maybe it’s a midlife crisis. I did turn thirty-seven last month. It’s the only explanation for why the job I love no longer fulfills me. It must be why I’m suddenly wishing, or at least considering, that I had a significant other—something I’ve intentionally avoided most of my life. There’s no other reason I’m suddenly wishing I could have more in my life when I know I can’t. People don’t change directions that fast without a catalyst.
“Hey, isn’t that Dahlia’s dad?” Travis asks, pointing at the screen.
I turn up the volume.
“In other news, Joseph Dallo was in court this morning. As you’ll recall, Dallo, owner of the scrap metal recovery and recycling company known as Dallo Metalworks, is accused of money laundering, mail and wire fraud, and drug conspiracy by prosecutors. George Lee is at the courthouse with the latest. George, can you tell us what happened today?”
A man in a red shirt fills the screen. “Hi, Simone. Attorneys were in court this morning to discuss the defense’s motion to suppress evidence. The defense claims Dallo’s constitutional rights were violated, and all related evidence is thereby inadmissible. The judge is expected to rule on the motion next week. We’ll keep you posted. Back to you, Simone.”
I turn the volume down and toss the remote next to my burger.
My stomach tightens as I think about Dahlia.
“That trial’s going to be a shit show,” Travis says.
“No doubt.”
“Has Dahlia said anything about it?”
I scrub my hand down my face. “No, not really. I get the impression she doesn’t want to discuss it, so I don’t bring it up. It’s none of my business, anyway.”
Travis looks at me, unimpressed.
“We’d only been working together for about six months when she found out Dallo was her father,” I say. “We talked about him a little then. She brought it up when he was arrested, but that’s about it.”
“It would have to be hard for her to know that everyone knows her dad is accused of working with a cartel.”
I lift a brow. He lifts his right back.
“Yeah, well, we know a thing or two about that,” I mutter, sitting back again.
“No one really knows she’s Dallo’s daughter, though, right? Isn’t that what you said?”
I nod. “Yeah. When the whole thing happened and Dallo contacted her, Dahlia was in disbelief for a while. All she knew about him was that he was shady. They agreed to keep her identity quiet and not make it public information. Seems like a good call, in retrospect.”
“Dammit.” Travis glances at his phone. “I’m sorry, Troy. I gotta get going. I need to drop a load of tools off at the jobsite before they lock it up for the night, and Bradley just texted me that they’re winding down over there.” He gets to his feet and reaches for his trash.
“I’ll clean up. Don’t worry about it.”
He grins. “Thanks. Hit me up if you’re not busy this weekend, and we’ll hang out.”
“Will do.”
“Later.”
“Bye.”
He leaves, the door closing swiftly behind him.
I blow out a breath and sink into the leather.
“… money laundering, mail and wire fraud, and drug conspiracy by prosecutors.”