Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
I wake the next morning with a killer headache and smile at the painkillers and glass of water Tank has left on my bedside table. I down the pills and groggily make my way out of bed and down the hallway, following the smell of bacon and eggs. I greedily take my seat at the table, patiently waiting for Miller to stop burning the bacon.
“Mmm,” I moan as my breakfast makes its way to my stomach.
I distantly notice conversation around me, but we all know I won’t be participating until the pills have kicked in, breakfast is happily situated in my stomach, and a coffee has washed it all down.
Half an hour later, I join Dani on the couch, finally starting to feel like myself again. She is in the middle of recapping the story of our night while she gives Mia a bottle, and I grab my phone and start flicking through our photos, making sure to show Tank and Miller all the good ones. I’m busy scrolling when I notice a shitload of photos that definitely shouldn’t be there.
“Holy shit,” I gasp as I start flicking through them.
“What is it, babe?” Tank questions as he gets up and comes around the back of the couch to peer over my shoulder.
“It’s all the photos of the documents I had on Baxter. They must have saved in the cloud thingy and downloaded when I connected it all yesterday.”
“Fuck. Seriously?” he questions as he takes the phone from my hand and begins zooming in on the contract pages.
“Yeah, it’s all there.”
“That’s awesome,” Dani says from beside me.
“Sure fucking is,” Tank murmurs with a satisfied grin. “It’s one step closer to nailing the bastard.”
With that, I make quick work of calling Detective Andrews and emailing through all the documents. The thought of reopening this case sends a shiver sailing down my spine, considering the risk behind it all. I just hope now that I’m in a good place, Baxter doesn’t come after me for supplying evidence. But whatever happens will happen, and I’ll be ready if he comes . . . Well, I have no idea how I’ll be ready, but I know for damn sure the fucker won’t be putting me in the hospital again.
By the afternoon, Tank and I are heading back to our place when I turn to him with a thought. “Maybe I should start working again,” I tell him.
His whole face drops as he looks at me like I’ve gone crazy. “You’re not seriously thinking of picking up the Baxter investigation again?”
My eyes widen at his comment. “God, no,” I quickly rush out. “As much as I want to see him go down for everything, I want to stay away. Especially now things are good again,” I explain. “What I meant was going back into the office and taking on little cases, like petty things. Just something to keep my mind busy during the day. I’ll work back up to the good stuff when I’m ready.”
He looks at me, knowing damn well I won’t be able to resist jumping straight into the deep end the second I’m back in the office. “I don’t know, babe,” he says, thinking it over.
“What if I promised to talk to you about each case before I accept it? That way you know what I’m working on all the time. And if I need to leave the office, I’ll let you know.”
He’s quiet for a while and sits still in the driver’s seat, even after we’ve pulled into the driveway. “I’ll make a deal with you,” he starts. I look at him and wait for whatever genius plan he’s come up with. “I’ll be happy for you to go back to work if it’s only minor cases, like nailing the dickhead who keeps running the red light on Main Street, and if you literally have no contact at all with the suspect. You’ve got to do it all undercover without the guy knowing you’re writing the story.”
I think it over for a bit before holding my hand out. He puts his hand in mine and shakes on the deal, both of us knowing that this isn’t something that will keep me satisfied in the long run, but it’s still something we can both agree on for now. “You realize you’ve just made my job a million times harder,” I tell him.
“Yep,” he declares.
“And you also know that the extra challenge is going to push me more,” I warn him.
“I know,” he sighs. “That’s the part I’m worried about.”
“Good,” I smile. “Then you’ve got yourself a deal, big guy.”
Chapter 17
TANK
I push the boys as hard as they can go. We’re a few games into the season, and while we’re still undefeated, I know we can do better. After all, those chicks that Sophie decided to beat up think I’m not good enough, so I’m going to bust my ass until I prove them wrong. Not just those bitches, but every last fucker who doubts me will soon learn who owns this fucking season.