Ford
GENEVIEVE IS A TERRIBLE LIAR.
The only saving grace that I can pray for is that she's clued in an unsuspecting Talia on the bullshit she's spurting to Harris who seems not to realize how shitty of a liar Genevieve is. In fact, he simply kisses her and goes on his merry way without the suspicions.
And you know why he can't see that Genevieve is a bad liar?
Because he doesn't even fucking like her. Why take the time to notice a refined detail when you don't even like the person? That's Harris philosophy.
Gabriella clings to my arm as I endeavour to focus on the extensive report I have loaded on my laptop regarding Iesha's autopsy results. Despite the lack of sleep she got last night, given I only slept for two hours and spent the rest of the conscious hours put to good use with Gabriella's willing body, she's staggeringly upbeat. And infuriatingly clingy. So much so that I have to get rid of her. Pronto. Especially as Genevieve will soon be meeting me per my demands.
"I have a little job for you, Gabriella," I announce, turning on my chair to face her just in time to witness her expression light up enthusiastically. "Can you do that for me?"
"Anything," she promises.
Her eyes possess that customary haziness to them coupled with being bloodshot and that they're rimmed red. She's been taking Bullet unknowingly for more than a few days now and it has quickly penetrated her system so intricately, the dopamine levels increasing within her already. She's so beautifully submissive to me.
It's only the desire to be attached at the motherfucking hip that enrages me.
"Third floor of the police station. There'll be a thumb drive on a desk in the left corner with a blank yellow Post-It. Take that—the thumb drive and the yellow Post-It. Don't talk to anyone. No one will be at the desk. Return them to me straight away. No looking at the contents, no getting side-tracked. Come straight back here. Got it?"
No loopholes in that.
And the thumb drive in question contains any information Detective Barrera has managed to disclose on Jean Sommers. I'm damn ravenous for that information, and I'm sure Genevieve's itching to divulge more details regarding this enigmatic woman. If she's even a woman... another layer of complexity to the mask.
Gabriella nods ardently. "Got it," she affirms.
"Change your outfit first. Wear your normal clothes."
Gabriella giggles shrilly and it's enough for me to roll my eyes as I turn away. She leaps from the bed and begins undressing immediately without any inhabitations holding her back. By the time she's slipped into her own clothes and patting down her hair into a respectable manner, she's gazing expectantly at me as I face her, tilting my head back.
"What would you do for me, Gabriella?" I ask her, just like I ask all my girls.
"Anything," she vows.
And she answers exactly as they all do. They're all the fucking same. They'll all do anything for me.
With a nod, I dismiss her. She waves goodbye to me from the doorway and blows me a multitude of kisses. Her face depicts her delight at being able to prove herself to me, and my ill-manner does nothing to shit on her mood.
I pretend to catch none of them.
There's a distinct expanse of time between Harris leaving and Genevieve knocking on my bedroom door after Gabriella leaves. Maybe she's plucking up the courage to speak to me out of fear of the unknown. Truthfully, there's only one reason why I will imminently be concerning Genevieve with all of the following information.
