Page 57 of The Torturer's Target

“Me? Show her room? Right now?” Bose’s lips turned down in displeasure. “Can’t Clinton do it? She and I don’t get along.”

“I’m sure the feeling is mutual,” Clinton added with a snicker.

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” Bose shot back, which made Clinton laugh out loud this time.

“Clinton isn’t the sore loser at the moment,” Max responded. “Besides, you can take this opportunity to acquaint yourselves better now that we are all working together.

Bose pursed his lips in displeasure and his head swiveled to Tesiera, who was idly watching them with a blank expression on her face. Her indifference infuriated Bose and he swung around to face his boss again. “Boss,” he protested.

“Stop being a cry-baby and go do what the boss asked,” Clinton said, his eyes glued to the screen. “After all, someone has to show her to her bedroom; that’s what good hosts do. But that someone is definitely not me. You have to do it, bro.”

Bose rolled his eyes and slumped his shoulders, relenting. “Fine.” He got up from the couch, swinging his arms like a frustrated child throwing a tantrum.

Clinton laughed again as Bose walked away. “The game is almost over anyway, but not to worry… I’ll record the rest of it for you so you can watch later.” A dramatic pause. “Not,” he added, watching Bose’s hopeful expression dissolve into a sneer. He burst out laughing again.

Bose ignored him and sneered at Tesiera. “Let’s go,” he said curtly and stalked away.

Tesiera’s followed him, unfazed.

As they made their way through the hallway, their footsteps were swallowed by the plush carpet that lay beneath their feet, muffling every sound. The hallway was flanked by closed doors on either side, concealing the rooms behind them. They came to a halt at the third one on the right—their destination.

“I can’t believe I’m missing the match because of this” Bose muttered underneath his breath.

“What exactly is your problem? Are you always so annoying or do you pick which days to shine?” Tesiera’s voice filled the air.

He pushed the door open before he faced her. “Are you always this annoying, or do you pick which days to suck the fun out of things?”

“Unlike you, I don’t yell at screens like a deranged man, and I most certainly don’t cry like a baby when the scores aren’t going my way,” she said, her tone neutral.

Bose’s eyes narrowed in anger, and he advanced a step. “Smoked a little blunt and now you’re feeling feisty, huh?” He pointed at the bandaged part of her shoulder. “I don’t give shit about that bullet wound you’re coddling. I’m not above throwing a punch, and this time around, I’m gonna break a jaw.”

Tesiera gave a cheesy grin. “You can throw that punch, but I guarantee you that there’ll be no fingers left on it by the time you get your hand back.”

Max and Clinton heard their conversation through the intercom system that Max had turned on after their departure.

Max paused game and shared a look with Clinton, whose attention was fully focused on the intercom. They sprang from their seats and made their way towards Tesiera’s bedroom.

Bose smirked and advanced another step toward her. “I’d like to see you try, lady. I’ll fuck you up. Oh, I will fuck you hard.”

The atmosphere was thick with tension, the air crackling with electricity. Tesiera closed the remaining distance between them, until their faces were an inch apart.

“Oh, Bose. No man fucks Tesiera Anderson. In any sense of that word.” Tesiera brushed a speck of dust off his shirt that only she could see. With a mocking smile, she continued. “I’m the one who does the fucking.”

Max and Clinton halted at the entrance of the hallway. They shared another look; this time it was filled with shock.

“Did I hear that correctly?” Clinton leaned closer to Max and whispered. “Did you hear that, boss?”

“Interesting,” Max muttered to himself. Was she a lesbian?

Disappointment welled up inside him. He had nothing against the LGBTQ+ community, but it bothered him that she was gay.

Because you were hoping to get into her pants? a voice inside him asked.

Shut up, Self.

“Well, I guess it’s not that hard to believe,” Clinton interrupted his thoughts. “I mean, look at the woman. She is dominant. She’s a fucking torturer for Christ’s sake—a full-fledged assassin. It’d be weird if she were into men, don’t you think?” he exhaled. “Bet she’s a top.”

Max half-listened. If Clinton is right, then it was a good thing she’s a lesbian, Max thought. He liked taking control in the bedroom because he was confident in his ability to satisfy his woman and have her begging for more.

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