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Sixty-Five

DALLAS

Two weeks. That’s how long it took to sift through the ashes. Two weeks of meetings and debriefs and borderline interrogations.

The police wanted answers, of course. But with the LVMPD getting credit for one of the biggest drug seizures in Nevada’s history, their interviews were all good coffee and even better smiles.

When it came to the MP’s however, things were a lot more complicated.

We didn’t hear from Rogan until after a sweeping series of arrests had been made. It was all internal stuff. Very nasty. The kind of high-level shit the Navy and Air Force both wanted to keep tightly under wraps. When we were finally called in, the whole process took several long days. But between Woodward and Dietz and the files my brother had squirreled away, the last pieces of a really fucked up puzzle finally started coming together.

Alacard, thankfully, was gone. So was Evan Miller, although I was never really told if that happened by my hand or a result of someone else’s. Either way, three Captains and two Chief Warrant Officers were literally hauled off in chains. There would be more than just court-martials - there would be military tribunals. And these, I was assured, would take place behind very closed doors.

April was just a few days away by the time it was all finished. Dietz had finally gone home to Norfolk, even taking his tooth with him. My insurance checks arrived; structure and content money from the fire. Numbers and commas on two tiny slips of paper… all that was left of my childhood home.

One evening I was looking at the guys, watching them mill around the house. They looked restless now. As if struggling to find something to do.

They’ve been protecting you for so long, the little voice in my head told me. They don’t know what comes next.

It was a stark realization. One I hadn’t even considered, or prepared for.

So what does come next, Dallas?

I supposed I needed to move on, maybe get a fresh start. I could probably get my job back, but for some reason dealing cards just didn’t seem all that appealing anymore.

Neither did Vegas.

There were just too many memories here. Too many ghosts. Too much in the way of bittersweet—

“Dallas?”

I glanced up and Maddox was leaning into my doorway, looking more amazing than usual. His arms were all pumped up. Probably from just working out.

Damn.

I let my eyes crawl over him for a few happy seconds. Time had been short lately. Over the past couple of weeks, there really hadn’t been much room for—

“Can you come with me for a minute?”

I smiled as I followed him down the hall. He extended his hand, and I took it happily as he led me into the kitchen.

The others were there too. Neither one of them were seated. Austin stood to one side of the table, arms folded. Kane was on the other, leaning back into his usual spot against the counter.

“Another family meeting?” I joked.

“Something like that.”

I looked down, and noticed there was a

box on the table. A gift box in red and white, tied off with a ribbon.

“Well it’s not my birthday,” I said.

“We know.”

The box did look like a cake box, only fancier. I was blushing a little as I stepped up. Austin pulled out a chair for me.

“Oh, so I’m gonna to need to sit down for this?”