Page 36 of Grace

“Cyrus!” The door to my private office burst open, and Foster’s voice instantly killed the mood while my orgasm flipped me the middle finger.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” I swore inwardly.

“What the fuck is it?” I spat, irritated, while I kept fucking the woman kneeling on the bed.

“Someone’s calling from the police station.”

“Can’t it wait?”

“No. They said it’s urgent.”

“How urgent?” I asked, thrusting my hips forward.

“They found a girl in one of the alleys. She looks horrible. She was badly beaten, and…”

I halted my movement and glanced at him.

“—raped?”

“Yeah.”

I looked up toward the sky and sighed. Sexual assault killed my desire instantly.

“I’m sorry, baby.” I kissed Wendy’s sweaty back and pulled out.

“Your job is important. I get it,” she said, her blonde hair falling into her face, her pink lips pulling into a kind smile.

“Go help that girl.”

“When I get back, we’ll pick it up where we left off.” I winked at her and pulled on my underpants, then grabbed my T-shirt and pants. I slipped my badge around my neck and buttoned my jeans as I walked across the bar.

Instead of combing my hair, I just ran my fingers through it. As soon as I stepped outside, I lit a cigarette. I tossed my boots onto the front passenger seat and rolled down the windows so the wind could do something about the cigarette smoke and my smell.

I smelled criminally bad. Beer, sex, cigarettes. Still, I deserved it. I’d had a really bad day—I could use a relaxing evening to blow off some steam.

I tossed two menthol-flavored chewing gums into my mouth to make the smell more bearable. I smelled of sex, alcohol, and weed—a horrible combination.

I turned the ignition key. The Pontiac rumbled to life. The glinting beast. My lips twisted into a wide smile—I loved this powerful car so much. I switched on the headlights and turned on the radio. Every minute I spent in this car, Red Hot Chili Peppers had to be blasting from the speakers.

I slammed the car door angrily—I instantly regretted it, but those two witless dickheads had gotten my temper up even from afar.

They didn’t have the sense to cover the poor girl with something. I started walking toward them with angry strides, grumbling.

Fucking idiots.

At least they could’ve put their jackets on her. I wanted to shove their boots up their asses.

I took off my leather jacket, stepped quickly beside the girl, and my heart skipped a beat when I recognized the broken face.

Grace.

I draped my jacket over her naked body. My heart was in my throat, and I was breathing heavily. My hands clenched into fists as red rage flooded my mind. I carefully wiped the bloody tear from the corner of her eye.

“What have you gotten yourself into again, Grace?”

“He’s dead,” she whispered, trembling.

“Who?”