I could smell her arousal.
I could see the beads of sweat on their foreheads.
I could hear his cock pounding into one of her holes.
Even though Icouldtouch them, I never would. I never had. Club Oxygen was my “coming down” time. When I’d leave the club, it was my security that my mind was back in place where I needed it to be for work.
I wouldn’t be able to get to Club Oxygen tomorrow, so I had to make sure all of these endorphins and chemicals in my head were settled the fuck down. As I drove home, I made my plan. I’d find some mundane porn that would bore the fuck out of me, possibly jack off again, and then sleep off the consensual gang bang I’d just watched.
* * *
I poppedout of bed when the alarm went off at 5:00 a.m. I quickly brushed my teeth and then pulled on my running clothes and sneakers. I was out of the house by ten after five and began my three-mile jog. As I ran, I thought about the upcoming assignment and speculated what it might entail. By the time I neared home, I was no closer to settling on anything definitive about the assignment.
I went back inside and stood over the sink and ate a bowl of microwave oatmeal while I watched the headline news ticker on the TV. Sometimes the news ticker gave me insight on possible assignments, but no such luck today. I quickly shaved and set the razor to the clean setting cycle before I got into the shower. The razor growled and made obnoxious noises while I showered. If I thought I could mess with gels and foams without losing my mind, I’d go back to the cheap disposable razors rather than listen to that fucking noise the razor made while it was cleaning. It drove me crazy, but I couldn’t imagine going back to fucking with gels and blunt blades. By the time I got out of the shower, the electric razor was done bitching.
I ironed my black suit pants and the white button-down shirt and then went to get a cup of coffee while I let the clothing cool. Checking my watch, I noticed the time was right where I’d expected it to be. Everything I did was precise, and I knew how long every task took me to complete. Once I was completely dressed, I gave myself another look in the mirror.
“Yep, you look like Agent Losche,” I said sarcastically, because I knew I had to keep this mask on today
I got into my SUV with plenty of time to spare, which allowed for possible traffic delays, and that was exactly how I’d always planned it. The traffic in Los Angeles could be unpredictable at times. Luckily, today’s traffic moved continuously, though slowly. I rolled the window down as I approached the gate attendant in our parking lot.
“Good morning, Agent Losche,” the gate attendant greeted me, as he did each morning.
“Good morning.”
I held my badge out so the barcode could be scanned and then proceeded to my designated parking spot.
As I walked toward the building, I looped the lanyard with my FBI badge attached to it over my head and neck, then shrugged on my black suit jacket. My boss, Charles, was expecting my arrival.
“Come in and have a seat, Garrett.” Charles welcomed me into his office.
I stood in front of the chair that I would occupy and unbuttoned my suit jacket as he returned to his desk. I waited to sit down until he’d instructed me to do so. He picked up a manila file folder that had the blue FBI logo emblazoned on the front. Before he opened the file folder, he began what I suspected was his prepared “sales pitch” of sorts. He gave an overview of the assignment and made it sound great, or he would rattle off bullshit that would have me feeding out of his hands. Then he’d pause, open the folder, and sprinkle in some grizzly piece of the case.
“Howard Forsythe resigned.”
I raised my eyebrows, surprised by what Charles had shared. Howard had been an agent his entire life, and I thought he was possibly nearing retirement within the next five years or so. Howard handled a lot of top priority cases, and he would surely be missed.
“Wow, I wasn’t expecting you to say that,” I admitted.
“I know. It was quite a shock. He turned in his badge yesterday along with his resignation letter.”
“Was he working on many cases?” I asked. I was well aware that Charles didn’t have to divulge any information to me.
“Just one. It’s a huge one.” Charles tapped his forefinger on the manila folder while he stared at me. “Octopus,” he said.
I had no idea what he was referring to, but I also knew better than to speak up right then. He would feed the info; I just needed to be patient.
“Howard was working on the Octopus case. It’s a human trafficking ring right here in the Los Angeles area. Sources are few and far between, and there seems to be several people who could be the ring leader. Howard had been pretty deep in undercover.”
“How deep?” I asked.
It wasn’t uncommon for an agent to get so wrapped up in their undercover assignment that it started to affect who they were. It was more common than not that many undercover agents needed counseling of some sort when coming out of their assignment.
“Deep enough that the effects became unbearable for him and he made the decision to resign. He called his time on the Octopus case ‘humanity at its worst.’ Howard had been undercover for about a year with some of these underground sex rackets. He said he couldn’t do it anymore. The Octopus case will turn your stomach. It’ll keep you up at night. It’ll anger you, disturb you, disgust you, and it’ll affect you in ways no one who isn’t immersed in it can fathom.”
“I understand,” I said and nodded. It was about the only acceptable thing for me to say. This sounded like a huge case, and I didn’t want an errant comment of mine to fuck anything up.
“You’ll have the team of five other agents to support you. They were the five who helped Howard.”
