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Chapter 19

  • Dom paced around the small room. It was larger than his cell at Wyestate, but it still felt like a prison to him. Sighing, he opened the door and walked out to the kitchen. Brody was sitting at the table reading a newspaper. He looked up at him with a curious expression on his face. “I can’t sleep,” Dom grunted as he opened the fridge. There was nothing but a few sodas and water. Why couldn’t he have beer? It’s not like he was going to be drinking and driving. Not when he wasn’t allowed outside the walls of this tiny, crappy house.
  • Brody leaned back in his chair. “Have you even tried to sleep tonight? You do know they’re paying us to sit here all night, so you can sleep without worrying.”
  • Dom closed the fridge, maybe a little harder than necessary and leaned back against the counter. Crossing his arms, he studied the man he’d worked with many times before. “I know how it works. I’m just usually the one getting paid to stay awake, not the hostage.”
  • Brody laughed. “You’re not a hostage, Jesus, Dom! You’re wound tighter than a spring lately. What gives?”
  • Dom shrugged. “I just want to find the prick so I can go back to my life.”
  • Brody raised an eyebrow. “Your life of working twenty out of twenty-four hours? Your life of cold pizza and sour milk? I think there’s a bit more to it than that.”
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