” When I heard the door open, I didn’t even move. Since my head was facing the underside of the bed, I yelled a muffled, “Did we have sex?” ...��I don’t know!” He yelled back. I turned my head, squinting, trying to recognize his face but he’d already returned to his side of the bed and sat back down. “Well, do you remember anything? Who are you? Do you even know me?” I thought I should probably stop cowering on the floor, but I was hit with another wave of nausea. “Look, I don’t even remember. The locked double doors that appear upside down in my predicament lead to the corridor. They blur and sharpen as I hold myself open. Ice rattles once more and I stiffen as his firm hand cups cold breast. Colder now there's a melting cube in his palm. He rolls and pinches the flesh, tweaking and pulling. All I can do is gasp and slobber through the belt, saliva dripping back over my cheeks to the carpet between my feet.Then nothing.The weight of silence in the opulent office masks employees. Few of his ever classmates cared at all about the creek, so it was one time in his day when he could be alone with his thoughts, away from the ignorant babble and jeers of his peers .To put it bluntly: Connor was a nerd. The unruly dyed hair and lack of glasses were somewhat atypical of the stereotype, but otherwise he fit quite well. He was a lanky and somewhat ungainly boy, an excellent student in every class but gym. Girls never noticed him, and the guys either laughed at him, or tried to. He wore an immaculate suit. But what reallyset him apart from the crowd were his eyes. They were gray and sharp.Those eyes saw everything.Hank was possibly the best detective operating in the city. He was alittle too good in fact. He had made a lot of trouble for Tommy's bosses.His current employer, Bobby the Brick, had decided to take a proactiveapproach to the problem. Tommy was the mob's trigger man. He madeinconvenient problems disappear. This time though, Tommy was queasy. Hedidn't know.