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Chapter 14
Dylan
Levi whistled. “Vegas, huh? Seems kinda out of character for you.”
“Yeah,” Clay teased. “Strip clubs, flashing lights, the constant sound of slot machines going off. It feels like something out of one of your nightmares.”
I rolled my eyes. “How would you know what my nightmares consist of?”
My big brother slung an arm over my shoulder and ruffled my hair. “Because I know you and your grumpy ass. I can’t even remember the last time you left Sunville.”
“I do,” Irene piped up. She was leaning against the front desk of Callaghan Campers, casually rearranging the free pens on the ledge by color. “I tried to drag him to Liberty for a shopping trip a few months ago. Nothing but grumbling there and back.”
“That’s because you can easily buy everything you’re looking for on Amazon. Why bother wasting the gas?”
“What if I’m out buying underwear? I don’t want some poor Amazon employee picking out my lace goodies, now do I?”
All my brothers —myself included— audibly gagged and groaned at the mental image.
“That’s so gross, sis,” Levi whined.
“I think I’m gonna puke,” Clay said, one hand clasped over his mouth like he really was going to hurl.
“That’s way too much information,” I grumbled.
“What’s too much information?” Boone asked as he entered the main office, clapping his hands free of dirt.
“We’re talking about underwear shopping,” my sister explained. “More specifically, my underwear.”
Brody walked in just in time to hear the end of her sentence. He shuddered immediately. “Eww.”
Irene rolled her eyes. “You’re all grown men, but deep down you’re all still boys. How do you think I felt when I had to do your laundry growing up? Do you think I freaked out every time I had to sort through Levi’s tighty whities?”
I cleared my throat loudly. “Anyways.”
Boone tossed me a set of keys. “The Class A’s ready to go. Sorry it’s nothing like those fancy sports buses with the decals.”
“I think the last thing the guys want is to see their faces plastered on the sides. It’ll only inflate their egos.”
Levi patted me on the shoulder. “If I give you a hundred bucks, will you bet it on black at a roulette table for me?”
“I’m going to Vegas to work, not to play,” I insisted. “But yes, I will.”
“How long will you be away again?” Irene asked.
“About three weeks. Their manager is sending us out a week early so they have time to adjust. Red’s fight will be the week after that, and he’s managed to convince the UFC and Cash’s opponent to postpone his fight to the week after. I know it’s not really enough time for him to make a full recovery, but Cash won’t take no for an answer. His jabs will be weak as hell, but he’ll just have to overcompensate with his crosses.”
Clay grimaced. “Remember the time you fell out of the treehouse in our backyard? Popped your arm right out of your socket.”
“I hardly remember.”
“That’s because you bonked your head on the way down,” Irene recalled. “You were severely concussed afterwards.”
The tiny little bell over the door chimed, signaling someone’s entrance. I turned to see Julia poking her head inside. She looked beautiful, just as she did every day. Her hair was pulled up into a high ponytail, loose, curling strands framing her face. She was in a simple white t-shirt and a pair of dark skinny jeans, her expensive camera hanging from its strap around her neck.
“Hey, Dylan? I don’t mean to rush you, but we need to get going soon if we’re going to avoid traffic. Also, I’m pretty sure Cash cracked a Red Bull. I’m not sure how he managed to sneak one past Red, but it’s going to be a fun road trip to say the least.”
“I’m going to kill him,” I said without malice.
