The woman looked the same as Ryan remembered her, only dead. He nodded to the medical examiner, who zipped up the bag and pushed the body into the wall. Why the hell had she come back to Chicago after all the trouble he went through to give her a new identity; setting her up in a small town where no one knew her, offering her a second chance? The FBI took these matters seriously. Why hadn't she?
He pulled his phone out of his pocket as he walked outside, setting a quick pace under the street lamps. The voice on the other end sounded annoyed.
"Well, was it her?"
"Goddammit! There's another case shot to hell. Don't these people realize how much time and money goes into saving their lousy asses?"
Ryan offered no response. He knew the voice on the other end wasn't finished.
"Now I'm going to have a mountain of paperwork waiting for me in the morning. I don't know why I try so hard. Maybe I should go back to writing traffic tickets. It was a helluva lot easier."
Ryan nodded his silent agreement. He had asked himself the same question on many occasions, always finding a good argument for his career move. He crossed the street against the light. The roads weren't that busy at one-thirty in the morning, and if he made good time, he could grab a drink at Grundoon's before last call.
"I appreciate you going by the morgue," the agent said, his voice returning to its normal gruff tone. "I know it's late, but you live a lot closer than I do."
"No problem, Harris. It was my case. I knew the victim better than anyone."
Ryan recalled how frightened the woman was when she ratted out the criminals she'd been working with. She was grateful enough to give him the fuck of his life before he left her new home in rural Alabama. Now she was fucking dead.
"You got court in the morning?" Harris asked.
"Yeah. I'll see you there, I suppose."
Hanging up the phone, Ryan checked the time before pocketing it. He'd make last call easily, especially if Shelly was tending bar. She always made exceptions for him. The Miller Light sign was still flickering as he walked through the door, and the stench of cigarettes assaulted his nose. It was the only downside to his favorite dive bar. He might risk his life out on the mean streets of Chicago, but he didn't have a death wish.
He smiled when he saw Shelly talking to a customer, a new pair of silicone boobs propped against her folded arms. She had tied her bleached hair into two knots on either side of her head. It was a cute look for her, like Hello Kitty after a visit to the plastic surgeon, but Shelly was far from innocent. When she saw him take a seat at the end of the bar, she hurried over, grabbing his favorite Four Roses bourbon along the way.
"You're up late tonight, Ryan," she said as she sloshed an ample pour into a lowball glass and slid it to him.
"Not by choice. I had to pay a visit to the morgue." He held the glass to his nose, replacing the rank smell of cigarettes with the savory bite of single barrel whiskey.
Her face wrinkled but it was only for show. She knew what he did for a living. "Sorry I asked. So, you headed home, then?"
He nodded as he took a sip, letting the warm liquid roll over his tongue before swallowing.
"I'm off in half an hour. You want some company, sweetie?"
He knew by her playful smile and the way she watched him enjoy his drink that he'd be getting a free ride if he agreed. He was no man whore, but he'd grown used to his unattached status. It was less complicated than trying to read the moods of crazy bitches...like Shelly.
"I've got court in the morning, but I wouldn't mind the company tonight."
Shelly bit her lip as her eyes traced the contours of his shirt. He probably hadn't been to the gym since the last time she'd seen him naked, but he doubted she would notice. "Brills. I've got a new move I'd like to try on you. Enjoy that drink and I'll be back before you lose your buzz."
Although his apartment was only a few blocks from the bar, they took Shelly's car. She talked about her ex, who she had reunited with and broken up with since Ryan last talked to her. He had to sympathize with the guy. Shelly was wound tighter than the strings of a tennis racket, but that wasn't the case in the bedroom.
Inside his apartment, Ryan threw his keys onto the counter and opened the refrigerator, grabbing two bottles of water and tossing one to Shelly. She pressed it between her tits, causing the exposed skin to glisten. The woman may have been a few cards shy of a full deck, but she knew how to turn a guy on, and his dick strained against the zipper of his jeans as he watched her drink from her bottle.
"So, what's your pleasure?" she said, her voice a sultry whisper. "I just had an IUD put in, so we don't have to worry about those pesky condoms."
Ryan stopped himself before he smirked. She really was crazy if she thought he was going to risk his life fucking her without protection. "How long since you've been tested?"
Shelly pulled a face and stepped back, looking affronted. "I've only been with one guy in the last seven months. I'm no whore."
"And you two used protection every time?"
Her mouth twisted. "No, but neither of us has anything."
"I don't mind using condoms. C'mon, beautiful. You look like you need a good pounding." He took Shelly by the hand and led her to his bedroom, distracting her from going into meltdown mode. Been there. Done that.
Flicking the hall light on, Ryan ignored the switch in his bedroom, letting the remote lighting set the mood, for what it was worth. Shelly didn't put up a fight as he pulled off her shirt, unhooking the red lace bra along the way. Her breasts stayed firmly in place, like obedient soldiers. The result of modern intervention. Ryan didn't mind. They did their job of making him want to shove his dick between them.
Shelly ran her fingers across his scalp as he unzipped her jeans and lowered them to her ankles, panties and all. Then, like a hungry tiger, she yanked him up by his hair, fisting his shirt and lifting it over his head. Ryan had gotten used to being manhandled when it came to sex with Shelly. When she pushed him onto the bed with her knee, he played along, lying prone as she divested him of his pants, and his dick bounced erratically in her haste to get the party started. He called it Excalibur, but that information was confidential.
Offering him an eager smile, Shelly rolled onto her back and spread her legs, inviting him in. He made a quick grab for a condom, and, a moment later, he was properly sheathed and pounding her good. It didn't take long before she was clawing Ryan's back and shouting his name as she squeezed him like a vise. Her tight cunt had him ready to call it, but she suddenly changed tactics, pulling him out and unrolling the condom.
Looking up at him with a devilish grin, she guided Excalibur over her size D's. "Cover me."
More than happy to oblige, Ryan fucked her tits as she pressed them together, and he came against her chest, shooting his load all the way to her neck. It was a satisfying release after a shitty night. With his head buzzing from adrenaline and alcohol, he sat back on his heels, wishing like hell he had stopped at the Chinese takeout place on his way home. Sex always went better with lo mein.
PLAYLIST SONG: Pony by Ginuwine
Ryan Clark ~ cast photo below
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