Page 38 of The Torturer's Target

“Bose, stop!” Clinton yelled.

“No way, bro. I'm ending this now!” Bose lunged at Tesiera again, wielding the stick like a weapon.

But Tesiera caught the handle, pushed it back into Bose's stomach, knocking the wind out of him. She then snapped the stick in half and tossed it aside, before delivering a crushing blow to his jaw.

His jaw cracked under the force of Tesiera's punch, a low groan escaping his lips. She didn't relent, unleashing a series of jabs at his face, his blood staining her shirt.

Bose’s face was battered and so was Tesiera’s. He recovered quickly and grabbed her, spun her around, and then smashed her into the wall.

“I need to get the boss.” Clinton quickly left the cleaning closet and dashed to Max's office. He knocked as he entered.

Max looked up from his computer at the interruption encroached on the little time he had to finish reviewing the day’s reports before he could go home.

“Bose and Tesiera are killing each other,” Clinton said without preamble.

Max slammed his hands on the table and loosed a frustrated sigh, “Already?”

“They are going at it like rabbits,” Clinton confirmed.

“Not the right phrase, Clinton; they are not having sex.” He snorted, hurrying out of his chair. At times like these, it was evident that English wasn't Clinton's first language.

Max followed Clinton to the cleaning closet, exhaling a long, weary sigh at the sight that greeted him. On the floor, Tesiera had her hands tightly wrapped around Bose’s neck, while Bose desperately swung at her, trying to break free. Both were bloodied and drenched in sweat.

“Stop it,” Max commanded. At his words, Bose instantly ceased his struggles, his arms dropping limply to the ground. However, Tesiera only tightened her grip around Bose's neck even further.

“Tesiera, let him go. Now,” his voice edged with authority. She tightened her fingers even, glaring at a very purple Bose.

“He started it,” she snapped angrily.

“And I’ll finish it. Let him go,” Max stated crisply. “You promised.”

Tesiera gritted her teeth, slowly loosening her fingers. Bose coughed as he dragged air into his deprived lungs. She stood and turned her back on Bose.

“Boss, I found her walking to your office,” he eyed her.

“Bose, Tesiera, stand down.” Max rubbed his head tiredly. He could feel a headache developing.

“You come at me next time, and I’ll fucking slaughter you,” Tesiera growled, her eyes blazing.

“You’re welcome to try, princess,” Bose shot back and advanced on her again.

“Bose, for Christ’s sake…” Max groaned.

Bose winced and drew back. “Sorry.”

“Enough of this,” Max said. He grimaced as he realized how much he really wasn’t looking forward to this. “Bose, meet Tesiera Anderson. My newest bodyguard.”

CHAPTER 17. THE BEGINNING OF THE TURNING POINT.

Bose stilled and the mirthless smile he gave Tesiera died on his lips, leaving behind a perplexed expression on his face. It took a moment for his boss’s words sink in, but they didn’t quite penetrate into his consciousness. They didn’t make sense to him at all. They were English, he was sure of that. But the order they were arranged left him mystified.

“I—I don’t understand,” he said, puzzled. He turned to look at the woman in question. Tesiera Anderson. The same woman who had twice tried to murder his boss.

Bose wondered if his boss’s overwhelming workload had finally scrambled his brain. Or perhaps Tesiera was some sort of witch and she bespelled him.

“This is a joke, right?” Bose’s gaze moved from Max to Clinton, who just shrugged, then to Tesiera, who was already on her way out of the room.

She deliberately bumped into Bose and threw a glare at him as she passed by. Her eyes burned with a fierce intensity—the eyes of a cold-blooded killer, not the eyes of a lifeguard protector.

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