Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
“Like I said, they’re still around,” he said, brushing me off.
Damnit.
I was losing points already.
I had to at least act like I was completely disinterested in his and his family’s life. If I wanted to know shit, I could track down Vi when she was in town and ask.
“Where’s the prospect room?” I asked, moving the conversation forward. “Do I have anywhere to store some of my stuff?”
He said the next part under his breath, but I was so aware of him right then that I heard every single word, “Yeah, at your own fucking house.”
“What was that?” I asked, tone a little sharp.
“Right this way,” he said, not even looking at me as he led me toward a door then through it.
And inside was, well, a sort of gymnasium looking space, for lack of a better way to describe it.
The wood floors had that sort of honey tone to them, and the walls were stark white and tall. Almost windowless, but there were a couple tiny ones way at the top that were barred, letting a small amount of natural light into the space.
Along the longest back wall was the sleeping situation, a row of black bunk beds with white bedding.
Room for six people in total.
Along the shorter wall were four storage cabinets.
Not enough for all the beds, so if we filled up, we’d need to share.
Beside that was a door to what looked like a bathroom.
And, finally, completing the very sparse, almost militarian space, was an old dining table and mismatched chairs.
On top of the table was a deck of cards and what looked like chips.
No TV.
Not even a radio.
But, I imagined, there wouldn’t be a whole hell of a lot of downtime. I knew enough about the prospecting process to know they liked to run the new guys ragged doing menial tasks around the clubhouse, or even running errands.
“Do you even have a bike?” Valen asked, making me jerk back to the present, finding his gaze on my profile.
“Of course I have a bike.”
Granted, I’d just bought the damn thing when I came up with my plan, but that wasn’t the point. I knew how to ride it. I’d been riding and driving all sorts of different vehicles over the past several years.
“Then why the fuck would you drive your Mustang here?” he asked.
It was a valid question.
Even if I thought the reason was pretty obvious.
“Where else was I going to put my shit?” I asked.
To that, Voss nodded and shrugged, walking over toward his bunk, and dropping down on the lower one.
“That’s Voss. I’m on the other end,” Valen said, though it was clear it was his since there looked to be a few personal items on it. A book, a notebook, and a set of headphones.
So I was in the middle then.
At least I got to choose the top.
Both of them went for lower beds.
Moving forward, I went to the center bunk and tossed my phone up onto the top mattress.
Again, when Valen spoke, he clearly meant it just for himself. And, again, I was too tuned in to him not to hear it.
“Always making shit difficult.”
I chose to let that go because a small part of me felt a little pang at his words. At the familiarity they stood for. And some part of him that made it sound like he didn’t like that aspect of my personality.
You’d think it would be impossible for him to be able to hurt me after the whole situation went down so long ago. I wasn’t exactly pleased to learn he did still have that power.
I guess the difference was, where those same knife-to-the-back words would have had me down on my knees back then, now, they just made me stiffen. I yanked that knife out and let that sting only bolster up my resolve.
“Seth mentioned that some guy named Brooks is in charge of us,” I said instead, turning back to look at him.
“Yep.”
That was it. Yep.
“Do we go to him to ask for assignments?” I asked.
“No.”
Gritting my teeth to keep from snapping at him, knowing he would win more points if he knew he got a rise out of me, I lifted my chin a bit. “Should I ask Fallon instead of you?” I asked, watching as he exhaled hard, knowing he would get in trouble if he didn’t show me the ropes the way our president clearly wanted him to.
“You don’t report to anyone. You wait for someone to bark an order at you, then you do it. There. You’ve gotten your tour and your information. Voss, let’s go for a ride,” he said, and the other man rolled off his bed and followed behind, leaving me alone in the room.
I felt like it was the first deep breath I took in hours after they were gone.