Page 57 of Heathen

I've never been one to sit around and shoot the shit with a group of guys. I don't talk about conquests or get involved in any of the bragging and tall tales a lot of guys do, one-upping each other with every other word that comes out of their mouths.

I wouldn't say they're purposely trying to disrespect the women they're telling stories about, but it has always seemed that way to me, so I never participate.

I'm certainly not going to sit here and discuss my wife with this man, even if our relationship isn't real.

"We have the address to the house where the women live," he says, straightening up in his seat as if he's ready to pull off and head in that direction.

"Rooster said he found an appointment online for today, although it didn't have a specific time," I remind him, keeping my eyes on the door I entered when I first came here the other day.

"It's insane to me that someone would actually put such a thing in their calendar, much less name the location and who the meeting is with. People can't even be good criminals anymore," Twisted mutters, settling back into the seat.

"Rooster explained it, and although it confused the shit out of me, I think there were like ten or fifteen different levels of information for him to find the appointment with side names and fake addresses. Somehow his computer program sortsthrough all that shit and reassembles it into the truth. Fucking insane how smart that man is," I explain.

"That makes me feel a little better about the criminal underworld."

"It would be easier if they were as dumb as you were thinking they are," I argue.

"But it would be a lot less fun," he says. Although I'm not looking at him, I can hear the smile in his voice. "Imagine how many more organizations we could take down if they were that stupid though."

"There are plenty of stupid people in the world," I mutter.

"I feel like you're internalizing that statement," he says, and although I can feel his eyes on the side of my head, I do my best not to look at him.

He's trying to get a reaction out of me with his veiled reference to what I've done by marrying Kaylee. This SUV is too fucking small for how it makes me feel.

Slowly, I roll my head on the headrest to look in his direction.

"I don't regret what I've done," I say evenly. "I'd even go so far as to say that what I've done is exactly what was supposed to happen all along."

"Jesus," he mutters, his head shaking slowly. "You drank the fucking Kool-Aid in New Mexico."

A chuckle bubbles out of my throat, making him smile.

"Maybe I did," I confirm, not feeling at all embarrassed about my growing feelings toward Kaylee.

"I stayed as far away from that shit as I possibly could."

"I don't think it matters," I say, my eyes going back to the warehouse door. "I think they pump it into the ventilation or something. You heard about Hemlock, right?"

"Ridiculous," he says. "Even that man got caught. I don't think it'll work for me though. I've got no interest whatsoever ingetting tangled up with one woman for the rest of my life. I can't even fathom a life where that would be enough."

"Maybe one woman won't be enough, but that doesn't mean you won't end up dedicated to two."

He scoffs as if the idea is beyond impossible.

"Dominic's own daughter has two men," I remind him. "The idea isn't as insane as it may sound."

"Two women," he says, rubbing his hands together as if he just won a huge prize. "Could you imagine?"

"No," I answer without hesitation because there's only one woman who has been constantly in my head for days. So much so that it's almost as if no other women even walk the earth.

"You're fucking whipped already," he says.

"Maybe," I answer with a shrug.

"It doesn't bother you?"

"Why should it?"

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