CHAPTER ONE

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YIBO POV

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YIBO POV

"A full city block is up in flames after arsonists hit another fertility clinic in Old Town earlier today. If you're taking one of the bridges into the downtown area from the East side this morning, be sure to check your navigation app for any alternate routes. More on local traffic and weather ten minutes after the hour."

I lay there in bed for another few minutes, trying to wake up and take in the news that was slowly filtering into my brain. I stayed there with my hand on the radio alarm clock and my eyes closed before I could bring myself to move. When I was finally able to open my eyes the light from the room came flooding in.

The brightness shot a stabbing pain through my already throbbing head. I turned my aching head to one side and tried to make out the glowing digital numbers on the clock. 7:45. I was going to be late for work if I didn't get the hell out of bed in five ... four ... three ... two ...

I sat up, wincing at the pain, but that sharp, stabbing feeling wasn't just in my head anymore. There was a new source of discomfort concentrated underneath me. Right where I was sitting, in fact. I rubbed my temples and shook my head and tried to remember what the hell it was that I did last night, and why on earth my ass was so goddamned sore.

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and threw the covers off, then stood up and tried to stretch out the ache in my muscles. I moved from side to side, then forward and backward, but nothing seemed to help. I thought maybe a Charlie horse—or a pulled muscle-had hit me in the middle of the night. But the thing was, every single one of my muscles felt fatigued and sore. I took a couple of steps and even had trouble picking up my feet so I could get myself across the room. What the hell was going on?

I figured I must be coming down with something. Maybe I'd caught the bug that had been going around all winter. The one that was keeping people in bed for weeks, even sending them to the hospital. When I thought back, I realized I had been feeling a little under the weather this last week. But being sick was the last thing I needed. My precinct was short on men, had been for months. I knew there was no way the captain would let me take any time off.

With the rash of fertility clinic arson jobs that had hit the city lately I sure as hell didn't want to stay home. I had to make it in, no matter how crappy I felt. As I walked into the bathroom and flipped on the light, I couldn't help but wonder if it was something else, though. Something I'd done last night. I didn't have a sore throat or a fever, and, the thing was, I couldn't actually remember how I got home last night. I didn't remember getting into a fight. And when I looked in the bathroom mirror I didn't see any scratches or bruises on my face or body.

But when I pulled my boxer briefs down I was kinda freaked out to see that they were damp. Soaked through was really more like it. And I had no idea where the hell all the moisture could have come from since it was all concentrated at the back. I reached around and slid my hand between my ass cheeks to see if I was bleeding or injured in any way, but I couldn't find anything.

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