Page 112 of Hard Wired

Dominic felt like just one more cog in a big machine, where defendants constantly turned into witnesses to save themselves and pass the blame along. He assumed the US Attorney would eventually get to the top of the criminal food chain, but by then, he and Raymond would be long forgotten.

Max took another sip of his beer. “Do I need to keep an eye on the exits? In case your old friends are planning an ambush?”

“Anybody who cared enough to kill me is already dead.”

“I heard something about that. Might have made the news?”

That was an understatement. “There were a few articles.” Some with his face on them.

Max pointed at Dominic’s cheek. “I’m guessing that’s where you got the scar. Too bad.”

“Doesn’t bother me.” He touched the spot where a thin, white line of scar tissue striped down his cheek. Courtesy of Aaron Sandford’s ring.

“I hear some women are into scars.”

Dominic appreciated Max’s attempt at optimism. “I wouldn’t know. I’m steering clear of women these days.” And that just made him think of Sylvie. He’d promised himself he’d wait at least ten minutes before asking about her. But now he couldn’t think of anything else.

“How’s Sylvie doing?”

Max grimaced, setting down his drink. ”I doubt you want me to answer that. If she’s good, then you’ll feel bad. And if she’s not good, you’ll feel worse.”

“Is she good?”

Max shook his head.

Damn. He was right. Dominic did feel worse.

“Is she seeing anyone?” Hope made his breath catch.

“I really shouldn’t answer that.”

His stomach dropped. “Because she is?”

“No, because it’s not my business.” There was an awkward silence. “Is that why you wanted to meet? You could’ve asked me about Sylvie on the phone. I would’ve given the same nonanswers.”

“That’s not why. Not really.” Dominic’s finger ran through the condensation on his glass. “I was hoping for advice. I need advice.”

“From me?”

“You seem like somebody who has his shit together. And mine’s all over the place.”

“Thanks. It’s only a recent development for me, actually.”

“Really?”

“Believe it or not, Crane, I had a crappy childhood, too. Different from yours, but still bad in ways it took me a long time to work through.”

Dominic decided not to mention that his name wasn’t “Crane” anymore. He’d just gotten the court order changing it to “Anderson.” Nice and generic. Not a brand-new identity, like his brother in WITSEC. But the new name felt like something he’d needed. A baby step toward moving on.

“Tell me what you’ve been up to,” Max said. “How’ve you been keeping yourself busy?”

Aside from living in a shithole apartment off money his brothers sent?

“I’ve been consulting with the FBI and state task forces on organized crime. Sharing everything I know. There’s a ton of stuff I can’t testify to in court, but that could still help law enforcement strategize.”

“That’s admirable.”

“It’s really not. No need to patronize me.” He was just paying back a small part of his debt to society.

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