Perception

Part 18

Gabriel POV:

Goddamn motherfucking shit. That was the absolute fucking worse thing I have ever had to do. I swear to God I'll quit the Academy before ever letting some skanky bitch hang on me again. I'd rather lick and ashtray than do that again! "And she smelled like a fucking ashtray too!"

"Her too? Joseph stank to high heaven. At least you had to deal with a chick," Nate grumbles. I hadn't realized I said anything aloud. Fuck. I fucking hate this shit. The only girl I want anywhere near me is Trouble. I allow myself to think of Sang just to calm down a little, only to tense up again when my mind makes involuntary comparisons to that skank. I look around the car at Nathan, Luke, and Kota. We're driving back from the mall to meet up at Victor's house to review the electronic intel he gathered while we were keeping the stanky gang busy.

 Kota's lips are pinched so tightly they're white. The stark contrast of his mouth against his red forehead and nose bridge would be funny if I didn't already know why. As soon as we were able to drop the facade, he ran to the bathroom and washed, no, scrubbed the hell out of his face where that harpy Celia touched his skin. Luke's mouth is in the same condition. He even went so far as to gargle hand soap just in case.

"I'm not doing that again, guys. They can get some other team to do the skank parade bullshit," I say. I know that we needed the favors, but hell. Fuck that!

"I know. Just think, half a year ago we wouldn't have thought twice about it," Nate says. He actually seems the least disgusted by the whole ordeal. Probably because there is no chance of him letting some dude survive getting fresh with him. Hehehe!

ZZZZT!

Our phones all buzz signaling a group text.

Doc: Team meeting. Hospital. 30 minutes.

Luke tells Kota what the text says so he doesn't have to check while driving, and he flips his directional on before changing lanes to reroute to the hospital.

***

We make our way into the meeting room still grumbling about the shit job we just had to do. All in all it was successful, but it feels like we sold our fucking souls for a couple favors a piece.

Shoving open the doors, we see Mr. B. and Doc already there. Both are pale, and tense. Doc looks like he could cry at any minute; his hair is ruffled like he scrubbed his hands through it repeatedly. Maybe his date with Trouble didn't go well. What? He tease her for falling asleep during the movie and she got mad? Heh! It would serve the fucker right!

Mr. B. looking like his cat got run over worries me. Actually, I don't think he'd even care that much if that was the case. Wait, does he even have a pet? Fuck if I know.

Kota clears his throat before speaking, "Our mission was a complete success, Mr. Blackbourne. Victor should be bringing the compilation of evidence he collected earlier," he finishes.

"Thank you Mr. Lee," Mr. B. says hollowly without looking at us. He doesn't even ask for the minute details he usually does after a job, or harp on us to get our paperwork completed. What. The. Actual. Fuck.