Page 58 of Filthy Ruck

“We’ll figure it out,” Frost said.

I worked my jaw back and forth a couple of times. “Yeah. We have to. I’m not letting anyone fuck this up for us.”

“What are you going to do if Atlas decides he likes me?” Frost asked teasingly.

That was an easy answer. “I’ll rip his nuts off and feed them to him.”

“I’m touched.” Frost grinned.

I gave him a long look. Not yet he wasn’t, but that might change soon.

“I’m hitting the showers.” I tugged off my socks and stood. I had some thinking to do and a date to plan. Something that would bind Chelsea to me forever, mind, body and heart. Not to mention her wrists, preferably to my bed. Maybe I should leave her there. That would solve most of my problems.

Now my balls ached. I might have to pay a visit to the infirmary. For medical reasons, of course.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chelsea

I was no assassin,but I could move quietly when I wanted to.

Right now, there wasn't much need. The target of my visit was hunched over a keyboard, headphones over her ears. Every so often, she'd groove to whatever she was listening to. Her attention was on the music and the screen in front of her.

I stood watching her for a while, until she gradually became aware of my presence.

Belinda sat upright before swivelling around in her chair. Her eyes widened. She pulled off the headphones and tossed them onto the keyboard.

“How did you get in here?” she demanded.

I shrugged one shoulder, keeping the gun in my other hand still. “I broke in. It wasn't difficult. You should have better security if you don't want visitors.”

She glanced down at the gun, then back up at me again. She seemed certain I wouldn't use it. That was a mistake. In Dusk Bay, arrogance got you killed.

“It wasn't difficult to find you once I knew your name.” She sat back in her chair and crossed her arms.

She'd changed out of her skirt and blouse, and now wore fleecy pyjamas. Her hair was in a messy bun. It made her lookyounger, more human. If it wasn't for the expression on her face, I might have given her some leniency. As it was, I let her keep talking.

“Chelsea Miller,” she said, without looking back at the screen. “Doctor.” She moved her head back and forth like a bobble head, as if somehow I was showing off with the qualification.

“Employed at Flirts, adult entertainment club. Stripper, hooker, or both?”

“Both,” I said unapologetically. “Former employee. I no longer work at that particular establishment.”

Without unfolding her arms, she waved a hand dismissively. “A minor detail. The public will love to hear that three of the Smashers were in the company of a prostitute. One that is also passing herself off as a candidate for team doctor. A very juicy story, wouldn't you say?”

“Not really,” I said. “It seems kinda boring to me. Since I am an actual qualified doctor and a suitable candidate for team doctor, the whole thing has a bunch of holes in it.”

She snorted. “I'm sure you'd like to believe that, but we'll let the public decide. Your timing is perfect; I was just about to upload my article.”

“No you weren't,” I said evenly. “You're going to delete it and forget everything you think you know.”

“Why would I do that?” she asked with a laugh. “I'm about to break the story of the year. This is going to go global and make me a ton of money.” She was practically rubbing her hands together and counting her millions.

“In case you hadn't noticed, I have a gun in my hand, aimed at you,” I said. I waved a hand over the top of the barrel.

“You're not going to use that,” she scoffed. “Aren't doctors supposed to protect people and keep them alive?”

I smiled. “Who said anything about killing you? To be perfectly honest, I'd prefer not to. It's messy and makes complications I don't have time for. Do us both a favour and delete the article. Forget you ever saw me and move on to some other bullshit. Write something useful, like an article on how to prevent ingrown toenails. Plenty of people could use that information.”

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