AllFreeNovel
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“This is going to be good, I know it.” Faith is so excited she's nearly bouncing, and she looks around eagerly. “Any more things to break?”
After throwing my shirt aside, I grab my sledgehammer and put it over my shoulder. I nod my head at the wall behind me. “This one's going next.”
“Nice!” She grabs the worker's light and angles it in some way that makes sense to her. “Okay, go out into the hall and walk in one by one, really sell it, guys.”
I feel like a fucking hamburger. Is this what women feel like all the time? Over the next hour she takes a shit ton of footage of us hammering and tearing and smashing shit. It's hard fucking work, and by the time we're done, I'm dripping with sweat. I can’t wait for summer to be over, it can't come too fucking soon. This isn’t what anyone wants to do in the heat.
I've never been a fucking showoff, but I gotta admit, it’s kinda fun when Faith gets excited about something we do. Scrapper's all over this, of course. He was fucking posing before he even knew what the fuck was going on. And even Reaper is flexing a lot more than he has to, showing off that damn Grim Reaper tattoo that covers his whole back like it pays the bills.
Eventually Faith puts down the camera. “Okay, as you were. I’m going to go fiddle with the editing.” Forty-five minutes later, we’re eating lunch as she walks back in. “You guys are gonna want to see this.”
We crowd around her phone to watch the final videos she's put together from the footage. Fucking stripper ass music starts coming out of her phone, and the next thing I know, we’re there, sweaty and shirtless and swinging our tools. Whatever editing magic she used even makes us look like we’re doing it in time to the beat.
“Jesus Christ, Faith.” Reaper shakes his head in disbelief.
Scrapper whistles low. “Daaaaamn.”
“It’s good, right? Can I post one? I forgot how much fun this is.” She grins. “You’re going to be getting so many nasty DMs. Should I forward the good ones?”
Scrapper laughs. “No dick pics, please.”
Faith chuckles evilly. “Of course not. Here goes.” She hits the post button.
We all stare at her phone. Not that any of us give a shit about social media, but…
A heart icon flashes over the video, then a second, then a third.
“See? I told you!” She shows us how to read the metrics for the post, and where we can see who is interacting with it.
The profile picture for the first like looks oddly familiar. I grab her phone and click on the tiny thumbnail. Mila’s cute smile, with her fingers held up in a peace sign, shines right up at me under the username: Milabear. “Who do we have here?”
“Jesus, no way,” says Reaper, sounding as surprised as I feel.
Scrapper looks smug. “I think I’m gonna make forty bucks.”
8
MILA
“Cole,” announces the prison guard at the check-in point in a bored voice. “Turn off your phone and put your stuff in the bin.”
Crap. I was going to share it with Meghan, I didn’t mean to actually like that video. “I just need to?—”
“You aren’t the only one waiting, lady.”
“Fine.” I turn over my things and go through the metal detector, getting a little ticket with a number so I can claim everything when the visit is over.
I feel like I just got caught snooping, but it’s not my fault the algorithm decided I would like big, sexy, local men beating the crap out of a building. Will they notice I liked it? That it was me? It shouldn’t matter. I’ve literally had them inside me, so I’m pretty sure they know I like what they have to offer. Watching their muscles ripple and coil underneath their tattooed skin as they work hard isn’t nearly the same as feeling it under my hands.
“Down the hall, first door on your right,” the next guard instructs.
With every step, my anxiety over seeing Danny overtakes thoughts of the bikers. It’s been six years. What does he look like now? What's he like? I can't imagine what prison has done to him. What it's going to continue doing to him if he has to serve his full sentence.
The door leads into the visitor hall, where there's a whole row of booths, each with a chair, a handset and a plexiglass window. Look, but don't touch.
He used to let me win at Mario Kart.
And trade me my favorite candy on Halloween, even if it meant taking the stupid “healthy” treats.
