Lick my balls, Ford.
Andrew shoved his phone away after reading the text message about his recent bid for a security job having once again gone to Ford Security instead—the third time that month! One would think people would prefer a former detective over a former thief.
He still couldn’t believe Ford had chosen security after his release from prison. He knew he should be relieved that Ford had turned himself in as planned, but the way everything else had gone down felt…personal.
Even if he couldn’t blame Ford for using him, since he’d used Ford too.
To forget—all the other ways he’d been used leading up to that night.
Andrew fingered the Bluetooth tracker in his pocket, one of the tiny little squares for laptop bags and suitcases. After the briefing, he’d planned to pitch it to Larso
