The newer fluffy version still sent Lisa sailing, but she landed in a safety net on the back side of the ring and easily beat the pillow-filled mannequin away from her as she crawled out of the net, laughing.
“That was fun,” she said, pointing to the machine while she walked over to us. She looked up at Grady. “How many points did I get?”
“Six,” Grady answered.
“What’s the high score?”
“In a single bout—forty-two.”
“I didn’t do so good, huh?”
“For not having studied the predefined patterns, you did exceptionally well,” Carl said, patting her on the shoulder a bit harder than necessary.
“Thank you, Carl.”
“You’re welcome,” Carl said before he walked over to me. “Am I in trouble?”
“No. Why?”
“Because I was late for dinner. I told them we had to go home for dinner, but they wouldn’t listen.”
“As long as we know you’re safe, it’s okay. And the guys let us know you were with them.”
“But I wanted to go home and eat.”
“I’ll drive you,” Lisa offered. “I want to get back to check on Abigail.” She turned and look back over her shoulder. “Donovan, best you come home too. We need to talk.”
Donovan shoulders sagged as he followed Lisa and Carl out of the room.
“So why the secret?” I asked, walking around the machine to see the updates.
“Yeah?” Bridget asked. “What’s the big deal?”
“That’s Donovan’s fault,” Whiskey said. “He said that if any of you found out, you’d make him tell Lisa. And he knew with his fractured arm she would blow a fuse.”
“Can’t say as I blame her,” Anne said. “He could easily break that arm if he doesn’t take it easy and let it heal first.”
“We know,” Grady said. “But he was trying to follow everyone’s advice and find a project to work on with Carl in hopes that Carl would stop messing with him. They started redesigning the Circle of Hell, and Donovan kept wanting to test out the changes.”
“Circle of Hell?” Katie asked.
“Donovan and Carl named it together,” Whiskey said. “When it's kicking your ass, the name fits.”
“I like the safety net,” I said. “And is the track bolted to the floor?”
“Yup,” Grady answered. “We didn’t want to bolt it to the wood planks upstairs. Besides, down here we can control who uses it.”
Bones grinned. “And Mr. Pillow Pants is less dangerous than Meathead. I still can’t believe Carl filled Meathead with sacks of sand.”
“Let’s not forget the launch speed set to forty miles an hour,” Grady said, laughing. “It took a lot of convincing to get Carl to lower it to five miles an hour, and even that will send you into the net instantly.”
“What you guys did for Carl was sweet,” Bridget said. “You helped him rebuild his toy and made him feel like one of the guys.”
“Now he wants to have a tournament,” Whiskey said.
“Who’s invited?” Katie asked, eyeing the Circle of Hell.
“Anyone who wants to participate,” Grady said. “We picked a Saturday later in the month. Wildcard is even making the trip. We sent him a video, and he texted back that he booked a flight.”
“Donovan told me Ryan was heading back too,” Bones said. “A lot of the guys are, actually.”
“I’m not expected to feed and house everybody, am I?” I asked.
“No,” Grady said, shaking his head. “I put a kibosh on that. We’re moving the bunk beds over to the dorms and setting up extra beds there. We’ll also buy some grills and cook in the yard between the apartments and headquarters.”
“I don’t have to worry about anything? I can just show up, fight, and eat?”
“You only have to worry about beating my score, babe,” Grady said, leaning down to kiss me.
“Oh, I’ll beat your score old-man,” I said, turning toward the exit. “Come on, Bridget. It’s time to see what you did to the war room.”
“Yeah!” she squealed running past me.
~*~*~
Thirty minutes later, Tech and I stood speechless at the doorway as Bridget bounced around the room showing us all the smaller features like the adjustable bins for our case files, the pull-down wipe boards, and the pull-down maps.
My mind was completely blown. Bridget had outdone herself. The center of the room had a long and wide planked table with multiple sections that could be raised for standing workstations. The conference phone was suspended above the table by a heavy chain. The walls had been covered with a fake brick mural, inclusive of 3D images of robbers and monsters jumping into the room. Mounted on the walls were archaic weapons: swords, shields, and spears, along with modern weapons of guns, throwing knives, and brass knuckles—and the floor was covered with a 3D mural, appearing to be a thick slab of concrete with the center section broken out, dropping into the depths of hell below our feet.
I felt like was standing in the middle of a crime fighting video game. “This is badass.”
Tech glanced at me, showing off a broad smile. “The guys are going to be so jealous.”
The End… Or a new beginning?
We shall see.
I’d be honored if you’d spare the time to write a review. Good, bad, long, short—I only ask for your honest opinion. Amazon Author Page
Diamond’s Edge
A life of violence, sex, and evading the law...
Raised on the wrong side of the tracks, I know how to break up a bar fight, mule drugs under the cops’ noses, and how to get what I want out of most men. But I’m trying to become a better person—a better role model for my teenage brother and to maintain a healthy distance from a prison cell.
Good intentions don’t always work out, though.
Balancing the interest of two devilishly handsome men who want to screw me, staying out of the grips of a crime boss who wants to hurt me, evading an FBI agent who wants to arrest me, and hunting whoever is hiding in the shadows, stalking me… I find I must choose between the life I wanted and the life I was born to live.
The hell with normal. I intend to survive.
Diamond’s Edge is a standalone novel thick with violence, sex, adult-language, and questionable moral decision making. You’re welcome.
Link on Amazon: Diamond’s Edge
Books by Kaylie Hunter
Kelsey’s Burden Series
Layered Lies
Past Haunts
Friends and Foes
Blood and Tears
Love and Rage
Day and Night
Standalone Novels
Slightly Off-Balance
Diamond’s Edge
Special Thanks:
Special thanks to the below individuals for helping me get this book across the finish line and into the hands of readers.
Kathie Z. for your beta reading and mental-coaching services. You help me keep it all in balance.
Judy G. for your detailed notes and proofreading. You’ve saved me from many word blunders. Much appreciated.
Sheryl Lee with BooksGoSocial Editing Services: Your proofreading service was spot on, and I learned a lot from your notes. Thank you!
Contact the Author
My readers are welcome to stalk me at any of the below listed sites.
Twitter: @BooksByKaylie
Facebook: BooksByKaylie
Amazon Author Page: Kaylie Hunter
Website: www.BooksByKaylie.com
About the Author
I’ve seen many sets of eyes glaze over when others talk about their pets, so feel free to skip this section if you are one who has no tolerance, because I’m about to do just that.
Years ago, I randomly decided I wanted a dog. And a few weeks later, after a lot of research on Border Collies, a black and white, five-inch-tall, growling fuzzball attacked my tennis shoe. She was the one. Maggie Ann Houdini, born the 4th of July, 2003.
Over the years, Maggi
e challenged me on many levels. She embarrassed me at obedience training—dropping a steamy pile of poo on the mats. She learned to set the car alarm off if I left her to wait in the car. And during her younger years, she destroyed everything I owned: all my shoes, every plant, cases of toilet paper, my living room carpet, and even tore off the arm on my couch during one particularly loud thunderstorm. One night, I went to turn on the TV and realized she had chewed the power cord in half. The other half was still plugged into the wall!
Eventually, she learned not to destroy things, but unfortunately, destruction still came naturally to her. While I was hanging drywall in an upstairs bedroom, she snuck past me into the small section between the porch roof and the mudroom below. I noticed her at the same time her body tensed. She looked back at me, her eyes round, as the ceiling below her paws gave out. Maggie, the ceiling panels, and a hell of a lot of insulation dropped to the first floor below. After sufficient screaming on my part, I ran downstairs. She was fine, but oh, what a mess.
But Maggie was more than just destructive. She was super intelligent and loaded with energy. She knew and followed both verbal and hand commands. I told her once to go take a shower (while my then boyfriend was in it), and she ran and jumped in the shower with him. He wasn’t happy, but it made me laugh. I was picking up sticks after a big storm and tossed one for her. After she brought it back, I called her out to find another. An hour later, I sat in the lawn chair with my cocktail as she happily brought me more sticks for the overflowing burn pit next to me.
Maggie was patient and passive with kids, even when I discovered my niece, who was a toddler at the time, lying on top of her and poking at her eyes. But she was also very protective of me, baring her teeth and hiking her fur when the creepy neighbor came through the woods while I was in the backyard. I’m not sure what she sensed about him, but I trusted her instincts, and when asked if she would bite, I said yes. He never bothered me again.
Maggie loved to sing and dance with me. Her favorite song during bath time was Singing In The Rain and when enjoying a campfire, Old Man Tucker always got her howling and prancing about. She loved to chase mice and track ground moles, but unfortunately, she’d release them after playing with them. She loved car rides, especially to Grandma’s house, as her tail thumped against my arm when she saw we were only minutes away.
She had a romantic tryst with an English springer who liked to escape the invisible fence and have adventures in the swamps. He, of course, taught her to do the same which meant I was the one who had to clean the black muck from her long thick fur. And after the first accidental litter of pups, her mate being just as crazy as her, chewed a hole through the garage overhead door so he could knock her up again. (I always wondered if she taught him how to accomplish that level of destruction.)
Overall, she had a full life. She outlived her best friend Boots, and her boy-toy Fox. She played hard, ate well, and was always there for me. During the nearly fifteen years we were together, she had become the one constant in my daily routine. Some people talk of their pets like they’re their children. And maybe at times, especially when she was younger, that’s what our relationship was. But for most of our years together, she was the friend who rode shotgun, literally and figuratively. She was my protector, my comedic relief, and my favorite dance partner.
She was Maggie Ann Houdini, born the 4th of July, 2003, leaving us in April 2018. I think of her daily but know she’s somewhere in the Ever-After, playing tug-of-war with her best friend Boots and running the swamps with Fox. And I hope that someday we’ll meet again, and we’ll dance to Old Man Tucker beside a roaring fire as she ‘woo-hoos’ the lyrics.
Until then, my friend, know that you are missed.
Best wishes to all,
Kaylie Hunter
Day and Night Page 33
