"Hello Tesla. I have a job offer for you," said the note. "Meet me in the back room of the Italian restaurant on Gulf and 44th in one hour to discuss ...he details."Yeah, I forgot to mention this. I'm a mercenary. My mother would kill me if I got a retail or food service job, because it would take my focus away from school. So instead of my mother figuratively killing me for doing entry-level work, I literally kill people for way more cash than any mall job would pay.Who do I kill, you may ask?. There’s a deep red mark around my upper thigh from where you tried to rip my panties. My panties resisted you and dug into my skin before finally giving way and tearing. Dark chocolate is on my face and hands, in my hair and smeared on my body. The bed sheets, pillows and blankets are in a tangled mess on the floor. The silk scarves that I used to bind your ankles and wrists are either torn or lost to the messy floor. My torn panties flew across the room and are nowhere to be seen. I’m not. When we searched him we found over 300 shekels and 900 denarii, the coinused to collect taxes. After a brief but energetic questioning he told us atleast part of the tale. The tax collector was dead. Stoned by the local villagers we were now encircling.The taxes were now recovered from our prisoner, who swore he was trying toreturn them: Even as he was headed directly away from the provincial capital.The only thing the village priest steadfastly refused to disclose was the fateof the military. Jane would have tocomplete her high school and he would share babysitting duties with hergirlfriends if she would keep attending school. Jane was more than happy to comply with his wishes because, to behonest, she wanted to get her HS diploma. And she had several friends whooffered to help babysitting when they didn't have classes themselves. Andshe loved her Grandpa, so she would do anything for him. Dan was actually happy to become Grandpa, Father, babysitter andprotector to his young.