Chapter 31
Dakota
It’s amazing what a good man would do for his wife.
Cook her a steak dinner.
Bring her a glass of wine.
Offer a foot rub after a long day of work.
Build a four-thousand-square-foot home right next door to yours just because you asked for it.
Yeah… they’d do anything for their wives.
Trent was still apprehensive about the big move, refusing to part with his luxury condo in the city. But rules were rules, and in the MUR, married couples were required to live under the same roof.
There was still no news about our test, but it was confirmed that Tiffany and I would be assigned the same target and be able to work together. As easy as it sounded, four against one, we were still responsible for making the kill. Our husbands could only assist up until that point.
“God, he’s fucking insufferable.” Tiffany barged in through the back patio door, sliding it with enough momentum that it slammed behind her as she crashed on the nearest couch.
“Said the same thing about you just the other day. Y’all gonna fuck or fight?” Rhylan had just finished putting away the dishes from dinner, drying the inside of a wine glass with a towel before placing it gently on the shelf, mumbling, “…breakin’ shit every other evening.”
“What happened now?” I scooched closer to my sister, sitting right next to where her face was planted in the seat cushion. We knew this would be an adjustment, but she wasn’t in the least bit ready to take on the role of someone’s wife.
Tiffany rubbed her face against the fabric before turning to the side, staring blankly at the wall across the room.
“He said he wouldn’t stuff me like a dirty little cum slut; fucking me in the ass and leaving a cream pie before licking up the mess… I even said he could spit it in my mouth after he was done. Share a snowball kiss…”
“Good fuckin’ lord…” Rhylan choked on his beer before snatching his hat off the island counter, putting it on after turning to retrieve two more bottles from the fridge and taking quick strides toward the patio door.
“And where are you going?” Hearing the shuffle of boots, I scowled in his direction, just as his hand had touched the handle.
“To check on our neighbor and offer him a beer. You don’t need me for this conversation, and I sure as hell don’t want any part of it…”
With a tip of his hat, my husband left us in true cowboy fashion to check in on Trent while his wife sat next to me, crying about sex, or lack thereof.
“Are you serious? Is that really why you’re here?” I shifted one spot over to get a good look at her face and the tears that had begun soaking into the upholstery.
“Of course not.” Tiffany sat up with a chuckle, wiping her eyes and fixing her hair to look less disheveled than when she’d arrived. “I just knew that Rhylan would leave if I said that. I’ve been dying for some alone time with you since shit hit the fan. Movie night?”
“You really do enjoy pushing his buttons, don’t you?” All she had to do was call, text, or ask, and I would’ve kicked him out in a heartbeat to have a quiet girls' night at home.
“Because I know you won’t. That’s what annoying little sisters are for. Someone’s gotta keep that man on his toes.” True.
“How’s Trent?” Tiffany was a hard read when it came to their relationship. I couldn’t tell if she was faking her disinterest or if she was truly at odds with him; not like I’d judge her if she eventually fell for the man. Which, honestly, is what I really wanted for her.
“Oh, he’s fine… We’re still navigating this whole marriage-before-love thing. Living like roommates… and as you can imagine, it’s…”
“Difficult?”
“Putting it lightly… Even though we have the rooms and the space, he refuses to let me sleep alone. Acts as if the MUR has a whole-ass surveillance system installed inside our house. Monitoring our actions twenty-four-seven.” I wanted to tell her that if he was anything like Rhylan, his need to be close wasn’t because of the MUR.
It also had me wondering if Trent had started developing a possessiveness over my sister.
The first night after signing her name away, Tiffany and I stayed in our old rambler, while Rhylan and Trent got to work designing plans and hiring contractors to break ground on the ranch.
She took the news of the MUR… as to be expected:
“A secret society of contract killers?! Are you out of your goddamn mind?”
“It’s not that bad, Tiff.”
“Oh, and let me guess, I’m going to have to kill people too, right?”
I didn’t respond.
“Right?!”
I thought she’d handle the news… better.
“Dakota!”
It took Tiffany several hours to calm down after I explained everything: about the test to come, what would be expected of us as wives, and…
what actually happened to Jaiden. That part, however, didn’t seem to faze her at all—that Rhylan had brutally beaten the slimeball’s head in and then magically wiped the plate clean of his existence.
“I’m sure you two will sort out your differences soon enough. At least the sex is good?”
“That’s part of the problem. When we’re apart, it's easy, but the moment he sinks into the mattress beside me, I’m fucking done for. Like some horny succubus just begging for his cock. Which, mind you, is—”
“I don’t need to know the specifics of Trent’s dick.” While the habit of over-sharing was mutual, I genuinely wasn’t interested in knowing what kind of package that man carried. For obvious reasons.
“It’s not even that, he’s—”
“Tiff. I’m warning you.”
“Pierced.”
“His too?!” Okay, now she’d managed to pique my interest. Because how often do men go out and get penis piercings? They couldn’t be that common.
“Wait, Rhylan’s pierced? And you never thought to tell me?”
“First of all, that was none of your business, and secondly—”
“Do you think they got them done together? Like, not together at the same time holding hands, but... You know… same day?”
“Tiff!” How this girl can go from ‘I’m not sure this marriage is going to work’ to being enamored about the condition of his dick is beyond me.
“Can’t blame a girl for being curious about a man’s cock. Those piercings look like they hurt.”
“Hold up, piercings?” I put emphasis on the ‘s’. “As in plural?” Now she had my undivided attention.
“Yeah, why? Doesn’t Rhylan have like… six of them too?”
“Six?! He has six?” The way my jaw hit the floor at the number. My brain immediately worked to figure out how his dick could accommodate that many, and what kind of man would sit through that amount of pain for a little bit of added stimulation during sex.
“TMI. You’re right. I’ll just get the popcorn.” Tiffany’s face turned beet red before she leaped off the couch and ran to the pantry, returning with two bags of popcorn, promptly stuffing her face to avoid any further discussion.
He has six?
Holy fuck.
Three bottles of wine and two family-sized bags of popcorn later, Tiffany and I had crashed on the living room sofa, the TV shutting off from lack of use, and the fireplace was nothing but crackling embers.
“Hey, Wildcat.” Rhylan’s whisper broke through my dreams, and I opened my eyes to find him hovering over me, his palm pressed to my shoulder, and another figure seated across the room.
It took a moment for my eyes to adjust, vision still slightly blurry from sleep, but after a few more blinks, I recognized the stranger to be Trent. What time was it?
Peering over Rhylan’s shoulder, it was still dark, dawn just barely breaking over the horizon.
“Wh-what’s going on?” Tilting my head, I found my sister still sound asleep, a smile on her face as she snuggled under the fluffy blanket I’d given her.
“We got your test.” The hairs on the back of my neck perked upright. “Trent and I figured it’d be beneficial to take you two out for target practice before your assignment begins.”
“We have roughly twelve hours to make sure you're ready, and while every target is different, the one thing that’ll always work in your favor is a swift bullet to the head,” Trent noted, standing from his seat and moving to sit beside my sister.
“It’s not about flair or making a statement.
Your only responsibility is ending their miserable life. ”
“Mmm… Trent, is that you?” Tiffany groaned, stretching her arms up and rolling her wrists before she turned toward his voice, her eyes still shut.
“I’m here, sweet pea. You ready to earn your buckle?”
In any other context, the idea of murdering someone to earn the title of a buckle-branded would seem utterly ridiculous and stupid. But here, it was a romantic gesture, and a rite of passage, and I was swooning over the way Trent expressed his affection toward her.
They may not have been in love yet, but I could clearly see there was something ready to spark between them, slowly but surely.
“We’ll get breakfast started while you finish waking. Can’t shoot a gun on an empty stomach.” Rhylan bent down, pressing a kiss to my forehead before moving from the living room to the kitchen. Suddenly, the thought of food turned my stomach upside down.
Holy shit. Today was the day.