“Sit down,” the doctor said. He took blood, three vials filling up dark red. “Any medical conditions?” “No,” Dom said, and then his mouth kept going and said, “What if I want to volunteer for bonding?” The doctor peered at him over the glasses. “Do you want to volunteer for bonding?” It hung in the air. Dom felt it like a noose around his throat, squeezing. Twenty-five to life. “Yeah,” he said.

“We going to get somewhere anytime soon?” Dom said. Brian was staring out the windshield. “Do you trust me?” “What the fuck kind of question is that?” Dom said. “If you say yes, I’m going to take you on the worst fucking ride of your life,” Brian said. “Do you trust me?”