Chapter 33
Dakota
“A rodeo?”
Of all the places I thought I’d be taking someone’s life, the Red Bull Rodeo was not one of them.
“Couldn’t have timed out more perfectly for us. Always a treat when your first task comes with a side of entertainment.” Rhylan dipped a hand into the back pocket of my shorts as we entered the packed arena, fans already cheering from all around the venue as the bull riding commenced.
“Should I be worried that you find pleasure in this?” I’ve never seen my husband look so excited, practically leaping for joy as we began the search for our target.
“What can I say, I’m a cowboy that finds joy in the simplest of things, and knowing my wife’s about to make her first kill… Well, it’s getting me hard as fuck right now.” He sucked on his teeth with a bold grin, and my eyes shamelessly fell to the growing bulge in his jeans. He wasn’t lying.
“Oh, good, you can distract our target with your cock.” I quipped while slipping my hand into his back pocket, giving his ass a firm squeeze.
“If you two keep talkin’ like that, you’re gonna end up pregnant before your next birthday. Unless that’s the plan?” Tiffany joked beside me, far from the nervousness that I’d expected. I was worried she wouldn’t be ready, but it seemed as though Trent had done his job at preparing her, mentally.
“Yes.” “No.” We answered together, my face nearly paling at his response. He wants kids? “Rhy?”
“What? You think I don’t want to put a baby in that beautiful belly of yours?
” His gaze softened into one of pure love as he pressed a palm to my stomach.
“C’mon, darlin’. Whattaya say? Have a couple of mini Dakotas and Rhylans runnin’ around the ranch?
” Not the appropriate time for a discussion like this, but… oh my god, he wants kids…
“We pull this off, and you can put as many babies in me as you want, darlin’.”
“Don’t go givin’ him that kind of free will.” Trent cut in while draping his arm around Tiffany’s shoulders and pulling her close. “I don’t care what he said because he will, in fact, turn that ranch into a compound.”
“Alright, alright, bad timing to bring up the idea, but your wife started it. Now, let’s just go find this…” Rhylan pulled his phone out and scrolled through his messages until he found the thread he was looking for. “Octavia Reynolds?”
“Ohhh… a little girl on girl action tonight, huh?”
“Not funny, Trent.” Tiffany sucker punched him in the shoulder before turning to me with reassurance. “We got this… right?”
For some reason, murdering a man sounded way easier than murdering a woman. What could this, Octavia, have done to earn herself a spot on the MUR’s hit list?
“D.” She shouted my name so close to my ear that it startled me out of thought. “You good?”
“Yeah.” Why was my stomach suddenly bottoming out? Was it because he brought up the notion of creating a family, and suddenly I feared I might never have the chance? Fuck… “Yeah, we got this, Tiff.”
“And there she is; suite level.” Trent pointed to the second-floor balconies in the area, where reserved rooms were beginning to fill, except for one. Octavia’s.
“We’ll handle any kind of security detail that she might’ve brought for protection, giving you two easy access to her.” Rhylan lifted my shirt before pressing something cold and hard against my lower back while whispering in my ear. “Remember, Wildcat, aim and shoot. Quick and deadly.”
Tiffany grabbed my hand and gave it a tight squeeze, not letting go as I shifted my gaze from Rhylan’s to see her beaming smile.
“We burn together.”
Hell yes, we do.
My anxiety was through the roof.
I was confident that we could kill this woman and walk out of here like nothing ever happened, but a part of me was worried about the tiny possibility of everything going sideways. Like Jaiden. What happens if I screw up? Miss my shot?
“Breathe, D. You’ve been wound up ever since we arrived.
What’s your deal? I thought this was what you wanted?
Hell, you even convinced me to sign up, and here I am, in the trenches with you.
” My sister gave me a look of concern, her eyes begging me not to tell her that I’d suddenly changed my mind.
That I didn’t want to go through with this anymore.
Tiffany and I were waiting in one of the bars on the opposite side of the arena from the luxury suites, keeping an eye on our target while our husbands handled her bodyguards. We watched as she relaxed on the sofa in her private room, sipping on champagne without a care in the world.
Octavia was dressed in a check-cotton Lily Pulitzer dress with matching dame pumps. Her strawberry blonde hair had been curled in luxurious, loose waves. She looked as though she belonged at the Kentucky Derby, a little overdressed for a rodeo.
“How are you so calm and collected right now?”
“How are you not? You knew what we were doing, unless killing her isn’t the reason for your hesitation...” My sister thought long and hard before something clicked in her head. “Was it the pregnan—”
“Shh…” I rushed out, stopping her from saying the one thing I didn’t want to hear anymore about until this was all over. “Don’t say that word again...”
“Holy—” Tiffany covered her mouth with a gasp, her eyes growing wide as they lowered to my belly before flicking back up to connect with mine with disbelief. “You’re not—are you?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t taken a test, but… I’m late.” Only by about five days, but long enough to be concerning.
“Your period?” Seriously?
“No, my tax return, Tiff…” Probably wasn’t the best time for sarcasm, but I needed some form of nervous relief.
“Why haven’t you told Rhylan?”
“Told him what? That I might be carrying his child and could possibly die before even knowing?” My chest tightened at the thought of breaking Rhylan’s heart. “Sounds a little cruel if you ask me.” It was wrong of me to keep this from him, but the timing was fucking awful.
There was a pause before Tiffany gave a nod of understanding. I wanted to mention it while we were at the range, talking about how I was being overprotective with my sister, but then… I just couldn’t.
“Do you think you are?”
“Maybe? I have been feeling a little off these past few days…” Nauseous in the morning, random headaches in the evening, and more tired than usual.
“Confirmed test or not, you have to tell him, D.” Her lips pressed together as she now became concerned for not only me, but for the potential baby I could be carrying.
The stakes of our test just got even higher.
“And I will, after we put a bullet in this woman’s head…” I took a slow, deep breath, squaring my shoulders, as I collected myself—got my head in the game. We had to be strong; I had to be resilient. “We go in, we shoot, we leave.”
“Right!”
Just as we’d given each other an energetic high-five, my phone vibrated in my hand, and I looked down to see a new message from my husband.
Rhylan: All clear.
“It’s time.”
The long hall of suites was surprisingly empty; guests were already in their rooms, enjoying the show as the bull-riding held everyone's attention.
Turning the corner, we found Rhylan and Trent standing in place of Octavia’s guards. No bodies in sight and no sign of a struggle, which shouldn’t be surprising considering our husbands were well-seasoned killers.
“You two were quick.” Tiffany teased with her observation as we approached them. Their arms crossed over their chests while they lounged against the wall on either side of the door.
“I wanna watch at least some of the rodeo before we go home. It’d be a real shame to come all the way here and not take advantage of enjoying the show; hell, might as well make good use of this suite for the rest of the evening, it’s already paid for after all.”
“As if you couldn’t afford to rent your own, or the entire floor for that matter.”
“Just because you can spend it, doesn’t mean you have to, sweet pea.” Trent gave a playful wink at Tiffany, who just huffed with an exaggerated roll of her eyes, unable to hold back the flirtatious grin in return.
I could see the subtle sparks that were flying off of them, just waiting for one to finally catch fire.
“Hey, Wildcat,” Rhylan uttered, stealing my attention from them as he stepped in front of me, wrapping his arms around my waist and sliding his hands into the back pockets of my shorts. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything’s fine. Just pre-murder jitters is all.” Was that even a thing? “So how does this work? Does only one of us need to kill her for it to count? Or do we both need to take a shot?”
“That’s the nice perk that comes with your little loophole. Only one of you needs to take her out, but you still need to work together. That means one of you can’t stay out here while the other goes in to complete the job.”
“We got this, D. Let’s raise some hell—or send her to hell. Something along those lines.” Tiffany’s attempt at loosening me up was working because I chuckled at the witty remark, biting my bottom lip to hold back the full extent of my smile.
“There are privacy drapes inside. Make sure that one of you closes the sliding door and pulls them shut before doing anything else; the last thing you need is witnesses from across the arena calling for help.” Trent pushed himself off the wall as he stepped up to my sister’s side, detailing our instructions.
“The glass is sound-resistant and should muffle most, if not all, sound from escaping the room. You’ll also need this...
I forgot to attach it to the barrel before giving it to you.
” Rhylan slid a long metal tube into my hand, cupping the back of my palm with his for support.
“It’s a silencer. It’ll reduce the noise of the gunshot.
” Pressing a tender kiss to the center of my forehead, he pulled the 9mm from the back waistband of my shorts and attached the pieces together. “I love you, Dakota.”
I lifted my eyes to meet his warm hazel gaze, committing it to memory before rising on my toes and pressing a tender kiss to his lips, my hand wrapped around the back of his neck.
“I love you, Rhy. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
Impatient as ever, Tiffany cleared her throat, her fingers already on the door handle, ready to get this over with.
“I’ll get the door and the drapes. You keep her still with the gun.”
I took one last, deep breath to clear my head, nearly shutting my emotions off in a way that would allow me to be as cold-hearted as I believed every wife in the MUR to be. Remembering how I felt the night I believed Jaiden had shown up to get even.
We go in, we shoot, we leave.
“Open the door, Tiff.”
Our husbands stepped aside as we let ourselves into the room, shutting the door behind us. No turning back now.
“Oh my god, I’ve already told you, Jacob, I don’t need—Who the fuck are you?” No longer distracted by her phone, Octavia shot up from where she was sitting. “This is a private suite. Who the hell let you pieces of trailer trash in here?”
“Wow… Miss prim and proper’s got a mouth on her. Straight to the name-calling without even getting to know us first.” Tiffany sassed as she strutted past our target, snatching her phone away before getting a head start on making our workspace a little more intimate.
“Sit down and shut up, Octavia.” I caught my sister in my peripheral vision, pulling the drapes shut.
Once they were closed, I revealed my gun from behind my back, flipping the safety switch, and aiming it at Octavia’s head, not feeling a single shred of guilt for what I was about to do.
We shoot, we leave.
She fell back into her spot on the couch, palms extended forward with a whimper of fear.
“P-please. Don’t shoot, I-I’ll give you whatever you want, just don’t shoot me.”
“D, wait!” Tiffany called across the room, and for a split second, I dropped my guard to look in her direction, thinking that something was wrong.
“What?” With my attention on her, Octavia took the opening and launched herself at me, attempting to wrestle the gun from my hold.
In our struggle, the gun went off, sending a sharp pain that radiated up my shoulder as waves of panic numbed my brain from realizing what had occurred.
The determination to press on and finish her off outweighed every other worry or thought that could cross my mind. “Tiffany!”
“Holy shit.” My sister ran to grab the first heavy object she could find, picking up a marble slab that was being used as a cheese board and striking it across the side of Octavia’s skull.
The impact knocked her off me with a loud thud as she hit the floor, unconscious with the gun still in her grasp.
“Well, that’s one way to—Jesus Christ, your arm! ”
“Not now, Tiff, grab the gun,” I spoke through a tight jaw, knowing exactly what she was seeing because I could feel it, but our target was still alive, and I wasn’t going to risk the chance of being shot—twice. “Finish her.”
Without wasting another second, she snatched up the gun, standing with her legs parted over the woman’s motionless body, towering over Octavia as she took point-blank aim at her head.
“Pew, pew, bitch. Big sis didn’t raise no trailer trash.” Spoken in true Tiffany fashion, she pulled the trigger, hitting her mark.
We shot. We left.