Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
“Delilah Taylor, the police chief, my boss’, daughter.” Justice lets out a low whistle. “That’s not all. I’m falling in love with her.” I’m not ashamed for what I feel for Delilah. I’m worried about how this is all going to play out more than anything. I may lean more on the wild side, but I’m not a gambler, and our relationship right now is a high stakes game. And Chief Taylor could call all the shots.
“Man, when you grab life by the balls, you go all out. I’m not sure I have any advice, if that’s what you’re looking for.” I wasn’t really looking for it. There’s none I need, really. We either continue hiding our relationship, or we tear the Band-Aid off in one quick rip. The only problem with that is the fallout I’m sure will come. Neither of us could potentially come out unscathed. Delilah is the one I worry about the most. “I will say this, a love like Mom and Dad’s, you’d be stupid not to pursue it.”
“That’s what we’re doing. The sneaking around is going to get hard though. I can only ask the family to keep their mouth shut for so long, and it’d sure as shit be nice to take Delilah out for a date instead of locking us away at my place all the time.” She hasn’t complained, and neither have I, especially after last night.
“You ask me, being locked away with a pretty woman sounds like a damn good idea.” I hear music playing in the background and someone calling Justice’s name. Our conversation is going to come to an end. It sounds like he may be at the studio, which means he’ll be missing in action until he comes up for air.
“It’s not all bad. I’ll let you go, but, Justice?” I hear him tell someone to hold up a minute.
“What’s that, Fletch?”
“Don’t be a stranger. The phone works both ways, you know.” I’d have asked him when he’s coming home, but I know his schedule is crazy and he will when he can.
“Is this your way of saying you love and miss me?” There’s a lightness to his tone.
“Fuck you.” I’m going to have to call Owen soon. Surely, the oldest brother in the Wild family will have some kind of advice.
“Fuck you, too.”
“Love and miss you, brother.” We might joke, but down to the root of us, we all have love for one another.
“Same, gotta go.” He hangs up the phone as I’m pulling down the street from yesterday’s call. This early in the morning, the whole neighborhood is quiet, the curtains are still drawn, and it looks like everyone is sleeping. I can’t say I wouldn’t do the same if my hours were a little different. It doesn’t take me long to do a slow drive-by of the house. I note there are about five or six vehicles, all trucks, mentally cataloguing them in case they’re needed later. I do a quick turnaround in the cul-de-sac, making sure I don’t miss any important clues I’ll need to document, then go on my way. Once I get back to the station, I’ll finish writing up my report, talk to Chief Taylor, and tell him what I found out. Maybe I’ll stop by over the weekend, and we can finish getting the welfare check taken care of.
After my quick perusal without any interruptions from neighbors, I leave the street and head toward the station. Lately, with Delilah at the house, I’m not stopping for breakfast or coffee at the local diner. It gives me a few more minutes at home with my woman, and I’m not going to complain about that.
The buzz of my phone alerts me to a text notification. I glance down to see it’s Owen. After a quick look shows no one is behind me, I decide to pull over on the side of the road. The fact that Owen is texting me first when I was going to do similar has me shaking my head. It’s like fucking ESP or some shit.
Owen: The word of the day is your legs.
Me: Jesus, do I even want to guess?
Owen: Let’s go home and spread the word.
Me: Does this shit actually work on women in your bar?
The bubbles start before they disappear again. He’s gotta be heading home from his brewery about this time. Usually, I’ll wake up to one of these texts; I’ll respond while he’s asleep and won’t hear from him again until I’m about ready to head home.
Owen: The fucker walked out of the bar with her, so it’d be safe to assume it does. Everything good your way?
Me: Shocks the fuck out of me. Yeah, may touch base with you after a while.
Owen: Give me a few hours, and I’ll call you. I’m just getting into bed.