Brawler Read Online Free PDF Page B

own ass. It’s a few unknown calls, for Christ’s sake. Just give me a fucking break already.”
    “I’m not trying to piss you off,” she says. “It’s just that … I worry.”
    “We worry,” he says, pulling into my driveway.
    “Now who’s treating me like I’m twelve?” I ask, getting out. “Thanks for the ride.”
    I was going to slam the door but decided against it. I closed it with the right amount of force, waved an overhead goodbye, and went inside to just be alone.
    Tossing my keys and bag on the table, I kick my shoes off and sit down on my couch to feel sorry for myself. Why does everyone think I’m a fucking thumb-sucking toddler all of a sudden?
    I get up, grab my phone out of my bag, and there are six more unknown missed calls.
    I’ll change the number tomorrow.
    For now, I need a distraction.
    I reach into my bag and pull out the photos of the two missing girls and sit down to start my research.
    I can study tonight, I repeat to myself over and over. Studying for me always comes first. It’s such a big part of my life. It’s a compulsion. The fact I’m able to focus on this instead of working is new for me, and truth? I kind of like it.
    Hours later, I crack my neck, then stand up to take a break. Making my notes, the two biggest red flags on both girls is that they intern at my hospital, though I’ve never met them and they went to Lush a lot. That aside, they are good students, no real debt or bad habits, and like going clubbing on the weekends.
    No boyfriends are noted, but that doesn’t discount a hookup gone wrong. My neck is tingling, which means this is all wrong, I fucking know it. Question is, how do I prove it? Lush, the hospital, I mean, break it down, it’s not hard. All this means in its simplest form is me and Venessa, period. Actually, I think it’s just about me, and the fact that she and I are a package deal brought her into the mix. Venessa was doing her vengeance thing long before I was able to test my formula. It wasn’t until she started using it to help me collect data that we started having problems. Now the problems seem to be piling up faster than we can sort them out.
    The problem with being a self-proclaimed nerd is when I get invested in something, I tend to lose focus on what’s happening around me. I lose hours, but it feels like minutes. I don’t eat, I don’t sleep, and I don’t process the outside world. It’s a good trait to have when you’re researching, but it causes problems, too.
    Like for instance, now. How did I not notice someone had been in my house?
    Setting my work aside, I grab my gun from the desk and secure it in my right hand. I sort of have a thing for guns. They are so badass. I started out with a 9mm and loved it so much I moved way up to my .45 that I carry pretty much daily. I love to shoot so much V stopped taking me to the range with her. She says unloading three hundred rounds is excessive. Fuck that, I say it’s orgasmic. I also think Little Miss Competitive doesn’t like being out-gunned, so to speak. I don’t mind, though; going solo to the range, for me, is like chicks who like to buy shoes. It’s a must. Although, the whole ammo shortage has slowed me down a bit because I refuse to hack into my stockpile, but my hoarding issues can be analyzed another day.
    I check each room of my house starting with the kitchen, then heading to each spare room and both bathrooms, and I saved my room for last. I did so because I had a feeling that’s exactly where I was supposed to be.
    Opening my door I look at my bed right away, turning on the one light he didn’t break. I see it’s torn apart with the pillows and blankets thrown off the side. The sheets are a fucking mess and when I approach the bed to look more closely, I see it.
    Briggs.
    I shouldn’t be surprised the motherfucker found his way in here, into my home. He used to love humiliating me like this. Especially, when I didn’t feel like having his kind of sex. He’d