Chance Assassin 3: Inauspicious List, The by Castle Nicole

Chance Assassin 3: Inauspicious List, The by Castle Nicole

Author:Castle, Nicole [Castle, Nicole]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Tags: Gay & Lesbian, Literature & Fiction, Fiction, Gay, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Thrillers & Suspense, Crime, Spies & Politics, Assassinations, Genre Fiction, Lgbt, Gay Fiction, Crime Fiction
Amazon: B017SGSAW8
Published: 2015-11-09T05:00:00+00:00


Chapter Twenty-Five

“Is it even worth scolding you over this?” Joe asked as he got out of his car. He was wearing his glasses, which meant stress. He was also looking grayer than usual.

“I love being scolded!” I proclaimed, like his scolding was my long overdue compliment from our phone call.

“That'd be a no.” He looked at Frank. “And you?” Frank shrugged. “Fine.” Joe followed us inside the abandoned warehouse, giving Miranda an even dirtier look than he'd given me. She obviously didn't love being scolded.

“Is he one of them?” Miranda asked eagerly, standing beside our taped-up trooper. We'd stuck him back on his chair, and he'd woken up from whatever drug Miranda gave him.

Rubbing his face, Joe said, “I don't really remember any of it.”

“Then I guess we get to do this the hard way,” Frank said, walking up to Officer Henson and tipping his chair over. The cop smacked sideways to the floor. “Joe, I'm going to need...stuff.” And I was gonna need a cold shower just imagining Frank's hard way.

“Give me twenty minutes.” He nodded an acknowledgment at Miranda, leaving her nervously standing there by herself, pining over him before he'd even gotten out the door.

Frank came to me, away from the prying eyes of the man on the floor. He lightly touched my face, tilting it toward him as if he knew the scary part was coming up in a horror movie. “Are you going to be okay with this?”

I was a little jealous now that he'd mentioned it. “Because you'll be beating him instead of me?”

He blinked and then closed his eyes and shook his head. “No, baby. Because of the situation?”

I looked around: a man tied to a chair in a warehouse, beaten and about to be tortured, bleeding on the floor. “Yeah, I'm good. Beat me later?”

Frank kissed my head. “Always.”

He paced around the warehouse, moving in and out of Henson's line of sight without saying a word. Miranda stood back against the wall with her arms wrapped around herself, eying Frank and me, but mostly looking towards the door.

Joe came back nineteen minutes and fifteen seconds later, carrying a couple of bags of goodies for Frank from the hardware store and a bag from McDonald's for me. He handed me my lunch and the rest to Frank, already looking wearier than our victim.

Frank briefly glanced through the bags, his face impassive but his eyes glowing. “Thank you,” he said sincerely, which reminded me to use my manners and thank Joe too. Frank set the bags on the floor where the cop could see them and rolled up his sleeves. I had to stare at the contents of my bag to stop myself from getting hard.

The cop watched Frank intently, but he hadn't moved an inch from where he landed. He seemed almost docile, though I'm sure being tied to a chair had something to do with his disposition.

Frank slapped on some black latex gloves. I fanned myself with some French fries. “Here's what we are going to do,” Frank said as he approached Officer Henson.



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