Waking Up from Yesterday
Language: en
The call came in the dead of night. My patron, asking me to deliver a box of ultra-thins. Staring at my rain-soaked clothes, the man’s voice was a low rasp. “Fuck,” he said. “Who told you to be so damn good?” I held the bag out to Pierce Knight, who was leaning against the doorframe. “The 0.01s you asked for.” When he took it, he deliberately brushed his calloused thumb over my knuckles, a predatory smile in his eyes. “She’s not here yet. Why don’t we break them in?” I froze for a second before he let out a low chuckle. “I’m kidding.” “I’ve set up a blind date for you next Wednesday.…