I can’t deny the way my cock now stands to attention though. I might not be able to find time to seduce a woman, but a cheeky wank won’t do me any harm.
It’s just free porn at this point.
There’s only one camera set up in her bedroom, mostly because the company I run wouldn’t look very approvingly of excessive camera use, but it’s angled enough for me to have a good enough view.
She’s hot I’ll give her that. A cracking rack and nice ass too. But she’s too loud for my liking. I have to lower the volume on my phone to avoid the unnecessary moans which are clearly fake.
A very unsatisfying wank.
But a wank, nonetheless.
I find it harder these days to cum. I think it’s because I’m so dysfunctionally detached that I struggle to feel enough pleasure to find a release.
Maybe I’m just broken.
I blame all the sick and twisted things I’ve been exposed to over the years.
Setting up my company was one of the best and worst things I’ve ever done. Yes, we save girls, some of them anyway, from trafficking rings. But some of the shit I’ve seen, in person and online, is sickening.
But this girl is safe for tonight. If anyone leaves, I’ll be alerted by the silent alarm I had set up on her front door.
I throw my phone down on the bed with a huff, frustrated beyond belief, and stalk to the bathroom like rinsing my face with cold water might just undo all the torment I suffer inside in silence.
The man staring back at me from the mirror is a stranger. Every time I look, new lines carve deeper into my forehead, framing eyes that feel older than they should. My hair—dark, shaved close at the sides, unruly on top—falls forward, a quiet rebellion I can’t seem to tame. Just like me. Disordered. Slipping far from the man I once was.
But I’m graced only a few minutes peace before my phone is buzzing again.
Only this time, it isn’t the house alarm blaring for Darcy—it’s Talia. My right-hand. The only woman I trust with my life. She’s a force of nature; military-grade sharp, fiercely loyal, and so consumed by the cause she breathes it in like oxygen. Just like I do.
“Hello?” Her voice comes through the line, edged with urgency, her Israeli accent unmistakable.
“What’s up Talia?”
“Intel confirms movement. Visuals place them fifty clicks out and closing.”
Shit, we don’t have as long as I’d like. It’s always the same. They work underground for the most part, and then just before they strike, they emerge from the woodwork like worms.
“Copy that. The perimeter’s prepped and the asset is secure for now. Maintain comms—any shift in position, I want it in real time.”
“Copy that. I’ll check back in tomorrow regardless.”
“Get some sleep Talia, we’re all going to need it when they strike.” She doesn’t respond, just ends the call.
To everyone else she can seem harsh and weathered, but she’s like my little sister, and I understand her in a way others don’t seem to.
I can’t wait to catch these bastards for good. They’ve been causing me neck ache for too long, and we’re so damn close to ending them.
5
Nell
Boomerang’s purrs jolt me awake—soft, insistent, his whiskers brushing my cheek as if to say, rise and conquer, woman. The dream I was clinging to vanishes instantly, but I feel… different. Lighter.
Today, I have a name.
And a plan.
I’m calling in sick.
