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“This is to certify Ethan O’Dey has completed Level III in Laboratory Skills.It’s dated from early last week.” I want so badly to tug the paper from the wall and look closer, but I know better. I know not to touch. “Was he bringing this to her?” I glance over my shoulder at Fletch. “His little achievement, so she would praise him?”
“Like the matchbook.” He drops his hand on my shoulder again and tugs me back a step. Another step. “He wants her to love him, Arch. He wants her to reward him.”
“He’s about to be rewarded with my foot up his fucking ass.”
My phone chirps in my pocket and draws my eyes down as the sound of patrol cars screeching to a stop downstairs echoes up to us.
I bring the device from my pocket and up to read the screen, but my eyes move faster than my brain. My reading, faster than my comprehension.
Shaking my head, I read the message again and frown.
“Get your man and finish this tonight. Don’t make me step in and do it for you.”
