
I woke with Masterson staring at me, smoking those goddamn MJ’s. What a shitty way to wake up. My mouth was dry. I sighed. “I was hoping that maybe you were a bad dream.”
He laughed irony not lost. “You wish. How do you feel?”
“Physically or emotionally? Physically I am thirsty. Emotionally I want some payback.”
Something in Masterson’s grin told me that I just sold my soul to the devil. I was unsure how to feel about that. I felt raw. It was inhuman. The enormity of what she did was nearly too much to comprehend. And what was I? At best a dead end. Would Masterson himself put me down when it was over? His large hands reminded me of DA’s. The time he choked me. My brain unable to cope hyper focused on the hands. I decided at that moment I hated them. Masterson picked up a plastic shopping bag and tossed it to me. “Get dressed.”
Continue reading “Clone Insurance Part VI: Cheapass pens”
