Page 13 of Domino
Silence descends between us as Cosmo and I both take a few moments to process Prophet’s words. Initially, I was struck by the heat in his voice. I’ve never seen or heard him so angry before. But given what he saw, I can’t say I blame him. There’s shit I saw in Afghanistan that’s stuck with me. Shit that still makes my blood boil if I think about it too long. So yeah, I get it. I get where his anger is coming from.
But he’s talking about starting a war with the most bloodthirsty, ruthless cartel in Mexico. The MC is only about thirty men strong and Zavala’s got an army at his back. If Prophet leads us into this, into a war with this cartel, not only are a lot of us going to die, but the bloodshed could erupt in the streets of Blue Rock itself.
The cartel, like the fuckin’ terrorist assholes we all fought overseas, don’t shy away from brutal, evil shit like murdering innocents. They wouldn’t think twice about gunning down a group of people at a restaurant any more than they would about killing us. To them, nothing is out of bounds. There is no bottom to their evil depravity. They have no sense of morality, humanity, or the rules of warfare. They’re little better than wild animals.
Going head up against them would turn into a bloodbath. Worse, it would be suicide. I have faith in all of the Pharaohs who are vets as well-trained soldiers. I wouldn’t be able to come up with a better unit that I’d rather have at my back when the shit got real. But Zavala is a man who commands an army and many times, sheer numbers carry the day. A superior force sends wave after wave after wave, wearing you down, until they’re finally able to overrun you.
And Prophet wants us to go head up with that?
“All due respect, Prez, but I don’t think puttin’ our thirty against however many hundreds Zavala can muster up is a great idea.” Cosmo says.
Thankfully, he and I seem to be on the same page as he said almost exactly what I was thinking. I know I should have said something, should have spoken up, but I don’t have much seniority in the club, and it’s not my place to be questioning the president of the MC.
Prophet turns to Cosmo, a contemplative look on his face. I know that look. I’ve seen it before. He’s got the gears in his head turning and is planning something. When he gets his mind set on something, Prophet’s often intractable. He can be a bit like a dog with a bone when he sinks his teeth into an idea. And he’s definitely got his teeth into the idea of going to war with the cartel.
This isn’t going to go well. Not for any of us. I guarantee it.
Chapter Seven
Ashley
After four days on the road, two nights spent in the car, and two nights in cheap and sleazy motels along the way, we finally pull into the driveway. I shut the engine on my ten-year-old Hyundai Sonata off, and look at the late-model, dark Lexus sitting in the driveway in front of me. Then I let my gaze travel to the house, which is massive. The yard is beautifully landscaped, and it looks like it’s been freshly painted. It’s the kind of home I used to dream of having when I was younger.
As I look at it, I feel the sharp pang of envy cutting through me. I push it away, knowing it’s a stupid feeling to be having. I should be feeling not just happy for her, but beyond grateful as well. Turning to Cole, who’s strapped into his seat in the back, I put on a big smile.
“We’re here, baby. Ready to meet Auntie Missy?”
Cole looks at me with an expression of uncertainty on his face and fear in his eyes. I know he’s too young to understand what’s going on, but he’s precocious enough to know that something’s happening. He understands that we’ve been on the road for four days and that his father isn’t around. I wish I could explain it to him in a way that he’d get it, but he’s simply too young right now.
The front door of the house opens as I climb out of the car. Two kids, a boy and a girl, both about five years old come streaking out, followed closely by Missy Perkins. Five-four, with hair darker than pitch, sparkling green eyes, and a figure to absolutely die for, she has always been the prettiest of our little trio. A wide smile on her face, she throws herself against me, squeezing me so tightly, I feel short of breath. I’d forgotten that in addition to being the prettiest, she was also the biggest hugger.
She pulls back, but still grips my arms, looking at me. Missy’s eyes are red and the sun overhead makes them shimmer with the tears welling up. My own vision blurs as I look back at her. It’s been almost ten years since I last saw her and though we lost contact as we moved into our own lives, I’ve never stopped missing her.
“You have not aged a day. You look exactly the same as the day you left Erwin,” I say sincerely.
She looks down at herself self-consciously. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”
“I do. I’m serious, you look amazing.”
Her smile is brighter than the sun overhead. “Thank you. And you still look amazing, too, Ash. You were always a stunner and you’re even more so today.”
We embrace again, and it feels like old times. Although we haven’t seen each other in nearly a decade, it feels like not a day has passed between us. Missy steps back and wipes her eyes, then puts a hand on each one of her kid’s heads. They look almost exactly alike, and with their dark hair, green eyes, and delicate features, they look like Missy did as a child. They obviously take after her more than
“These are the twins, Emma and Elton,” she introduces them.
I squat down in front of them and take their hands in mine, my smile as wide and warm as Missy’s.
“Hi,” I say. “I’m your Aunt Ashley. I’ve known your mom since she was about your age.”
They both smile shyly, then quickly dart behind their mom, peeking around her legs to look at me. I laugh as I stand back up and quickly unbuckle Cole’s seat, and pull him out. He immediately hides behind me, burying his face in the backs of my legs, making both me and Missy laugh. Reaching down, I gently pull him around to stand in front of me.
“This is Cole,” I say. “Cole, this is your Aunt Missy. She and I have been friends since we were kids, too.”
He looks up at Missy with wide eyes and slowly raises a hand to her in greeting. If Missy smiled any wider, I fear her face might split in half.
“He’s precious,” she says.
“So are the twins. You have an amazing family, and from what I can tell, an amazing life,” I say, nodding to the house.
