John.
Zsadist shut the door, then frowned and went for the cell phone on his hip.
芦Excuse me.禄 He went over to a corner and talked on the RAZR then came back, seeming pale.
芦Change of instruction. Wrath is going to take over tonight.禄
A split second later, like the king had dematerialized to the door, Wrath came in.
He was bigger even than Zsadist and dressed in black leathers and a black shirt that was rolled
up at the sleeves. He and Z talked for a moment; then the king clasped the Brother's shoulder and
squeezed like he was offering reassurance.
Bella, John thought. This had to be about Bella and the pregnancy. Shit, he hoped everything
was okay.
Wrath shut the door after Z left, then stood in front of the class, crossing his tattooed forearms
over his chest and spreading his stance. As he looked the eleven trainees over, he seemed as
impenetrable as what John was leaning again it.
芦Weapon tonight is the nine-millimeter autoloader. The term semiautomatic for these handguns
is a misnomer. You will be using Glocks.禄 He reached behind to the small of his back and took
out a lethal piece of black metal. 芦Note that the safety on these weapons is on the trigger.禄
He reviewed the specs of the gun and the bullets as two doggen came forward rolling a cart the
size of a hospital gurney. Eleven guns of the exact same make and model were laid out on top,
and next to each was a clip.
芦Tonight we work on stance and aim.禄
John stared at the guns. He was willing to bet he was going to suck at shooting, just like he
sucked at every other aspect of training. Anger spiked, making his head pound even worse.
Just once he'd like to find something he was good at. Just. Once.
Chapter Sixteen
As the patient stared at her funny, Jane did a quick check of her clothes, wondering if anything
was hanging out.
芦What,禄 she muttered as she kicked her foot and her pant leg slid back down.
She didn't really have to ask, though. Hard-asses like him usually didn't appreciate women doing
the crying thing, but assuming that was the case, he was going to have to suck it up. Anyone
would be having trouble in her shoes. Anyone.
Except instead of saying anything about the weakness of weepers in general or of her in
particular, he picked the plate of chicken up off the tray and started to eat.
Disgusted with him and the whole situation, she went back to her chair. Losing the razor had
taken the starch out of her overt rebellion, and in spite of the fact that she was a fighter by nature,
she was resigned to a waiting game. If they were going to kill her outright, they would have; the
issue now was the exit. She prayed there was one coming soon. And that it didn't involve a
funeral director and a coffee can full of her ashes.
As the patient cut into a thigh, she thought absently that he had beautiful hands.
Okay, now she was disgusted with herself, too. Hell, he'd used them to hold her down and strip
her coat off like she was nothing more than a doll. And just because he'd carefully folded what
she'd had on afterward didn't make him a hero.
Silence stretched, and the sounds of his silverware softly hitting the plate reminded her of
horribly quiet dinners with her parents.
God, those meals eaten in that stuffy Georgian dining room had been painful. Her father had sat
at the head of the table like a disapproving king, monitoring the way food was salted and
consumed. To Dr. William Rosdale Whitcomb, only meat was to be salted, never vegetables, and
as that was his stand on the matter, everyone in the household had had to follow the example. In
theory. Jane had been a frequent violator of the no-salt rule, learning how to flick her wrist so
she was able to sprinkle her steamed broccoli or boiled beans or grilled zucchini.
She shook her head. After all this time, and his passing, she shouldn't still get pissed off, because
what a waste of emotion. Besides, she had other things she should be worried about at the
moment, didn't she.
芦Ask me,禄 the patient said abruptly.
芦About what?禄
芦Ask me what you want to know.禄 He wiped his mouth, the damask napkin rasping over his
goatee and his beard growth. 芦It'll make my job harder at the end, but at least we won't be sitting
here listening to the sound of my silverware.禄
芦What job do you have at the end, exactly?禄 Please let it not be buying Hefty bags to put her
body parts in.
芦You aren't interested in what I
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