Twenty-Seven
Pierce Someone smacked me on the back while I was reading a report at my desk. I glanced up to see Turner looming over me with a pretty creepy leer in place. My blood ran cold. “You get puked on last night, Hendricks?” He chortled. I gauged his face, his body language. Would I have been able to tell if he had actually seen her and was just pretending to buy the story I fed him when he walked up to me at the restaurant? When he spotted me and sauntered over to our table the night before, I had told him my date was wasted and had to run to the bathroom. It was a d**k thing to say, but what else was I supposed to do? There was still the chance he had figured it out though. It wasn’t like I hadn’t noticed him watching us leave while smoking that cigarette.
- Writer
