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Chapter 50
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An Eye for a Bullet Preface
For Joe, and for Taryn. Bless your kind souls and happiness forever to you.............................................................................................Thank you for picking out this book to read, out of the possible millions of other fantastic pieces of literature to enjoy in the world that we live in.Foremost, and by far the most important, I would like to state that this book does not really focus on romance. It just doesn't, in my opinion, fit in that criteria. Perhaps in a sub-genre. But not in a category, or a genre itself.Rather, it fits in the genre that explores what kind of actions that ought to be taken when it comes to interacting with people individually. And thinking about what the people we do interact with think of the way we treat them as individuals.A story of personal exploration and the way we handle the ethical side of the human condition.There are aspects that entail romance in this book, and maybe that's why it roars with that kind of passio
An Eye for a Bullet Chapter 1
Arching up against the meaty flesh of the Russian, I mewl as he rubs his clothed crotch against my butt. He smells like cigars and whiskey, but the pungent smell makes me even hotter for his flesh. "Little squirrel. You've wandered into the ogre's den. And I'll eat you up so that nobody can ever enjoy you again," he says gruffly.He squeezes my butt roughly with one hand, the other holding my chin tightly as he kisses and horks my mouth with his own. "Please!" I mewl out. Some drool leaks out the side of my mouth, trickling down my chin. The chest of the man is huge and square, the hours of working in his private gym clearly working miracles on his body. He growls deep in his chest as if an animal is in there. A lion, wanting to eat me up. "I'll make it so that you won't be able to walk, so you'll have to crawl wherever you go. That way you can never run from me when I want to get it going with you. And I can grab you right by your ass and drag you to my bed," he growls as
An Eye for a Bullet Chapter 2
Walking through the white and clean hallways, I make my way to the briefing room. The white lights glare down at me with cold blue-tinted light. It makes the whole place seem unbelievably sterile. But because I've lived here through the years, the whole setup has a calming effect on me, making me a little relaxed. Even though I'm to be always alert.Making my way to metal doors that lead into the room I'm going to, I stop. Raising a fist, I knock on the cold metal."Come in," calls a gravelly voice.I open the door and step into the office. Compared to the hallway, it's much more flavorful here. A brown and red carpet is spread on the floor. Resting on top of it is a mahogany desk. And a few bookshelves line the white walls.Sitting in the chair behind the desk is Mr. Corbin. He's in his early forties, or maybe fifties. But his once brown hair is fading away, the tips of his hair have some of the lingering color that is just barely there. His square and set jaw are clenched as always.
An Eye for a Bullet Chapter 3
I've never felt so exposed. Even during the most intimate sessions during my dead career, when I was naked and they were screwing with me, I never felt as if I was exposing a part of me. As if I ought to be mindful of how I should be more protective of my body.But that was because I had something behind me. A force of executive power. Something that they would not able to contend with. But now I'm stripped of that. I'm hollow inside. No direction. No driving force as to make sure I can vie to be better, to make myself the biggest asset. The favored one. But it's all gone. A sunken ship. Rotted and decaying under the weight of the water. And the ships shell breaking and tumbling into disarray, exposing the emptiness of its interior. Yeah, that's me. Sitting in the black van, I sit resolutely as a pole. I may be a frayed mess inside, but I don't show it. I've been hardwired not to. To be the perfect little example of something a male would want to eat up for dinner in his bed,
An Eye for a Bullet Chapter 4
Walking up to the school building, I notice the name written across the thing above the doors. A wall? I don't know. It's made of brick anyhow.Lonewood HighschoolUgh. So ghetto.The school looks to be in a state of decay. The once red bricks of the outside seem to be cracking, like old makeup. Why did I even come here?The internal debate of actually attending was really hard to do. I was pretty much intent on staying at home for the next year and a half until I managed to turn eighteen, then leave this town forever. But what Mr. Colt's buddy said lingered in my mind. I don't want to go to a ward. So I dragged myself out of my apartment and made my way to this school.Nobody seems to be here yet. At least, not that I can see. It might be that it's around half-past seven in the morning. And the cold Washington air bites at my face. I pull the sweater I found inside the closet higher around my neck. The leather jacket is wrapped around me. It's a bit too big for me, but I don't mind.
An Eye for a Bullet Chapter 5
Jack smiles when he sees me. "Reza!" he shouts happily. He moves forward to give me a hug. I wouldn't usually let him, but it's fine. This time. "Hey," I reply as he engulfs me in his arms. He's gotten taller since I last saw him. The top of my head barely reaches his chin height. His blond hair that was always short is wavy and mid-length, his overall body looking much healthier when I last saw him too. The lean muscle on his chest seems to have filled up a little, and the lines on his cheeks have disappeared. Not to mention his hair seems much firmer. We never got enough to eat. Never. It was part of the program. To be able to fast and still be able to perform combat and missions. It was a miracle that anybody could stay on their feet. But for Jack, it was worse. Because Jack was so tall, he needed more to eat than the rest of us. But he never got it. I gave him some of my food when I didn't feel the need to eat. But that was scarce enough for him. "Hey? Is that all?
An Eye for a Bullet Chapter 6
Walking out of the locker room, I think about what I'm doing in girl's workout pants and shirt. I wouldn't have worn this if didn't have to. I mean, I've done much more provocative things. But this seems unnecessary. I'm not on a mission after all. But I guess it can't be helped. Even the smallest size for the boy's gym clothes that is mandatory to wear doesn't fit me. So Mia and Ves pulled me into the girl's bathroom and stripped me. Then, Mia left to get some clothes from the supply closet, and she brought it back and they dressed me. Ves tsked at the lack of meat on my body. "You need more fat," she says. She pokes my ribs, half of which are covered in sinewy muscle, and the other half exposed, with only skin covering it. "Whatever," I say as I pull on the shirt. It's white, and the pants are navy blue. They're tight, and they come to maybe mid-thigh. I also slip on the gym shoes they brought me. White and tiny, to fit my feet. I think these are girl's shoes too. "Y
An Eye for a Bullet Chapter 7
I sit in my bed in the quiet night. The cold winter wind howls outside the window. It shakes and rattles the bare tree limbs. The cold air doesn't enter through any cracks into the apartment. I guess that's good. The apartment is actually better than most places I lived in. The lamp on my nightstand is on, casting yellow light across the blankets and bedsheets. It's grey and fluffy, whereas the sheets are red. A strange combination of color, but I wouldn't know because I've been out of the loop of everyday life, so I'm not the man to go to when it comes to anything circuitous. Like beauty or something that should be beautiful. I wouldn't know. But the bedsheets and blankets aren't what made me wake up. It's the feeling that somebody is watching. Is it in here? No. Definitely not in here that it's emanating from. Reaching over to the nightstand, I turn it off. Pulling the blankets off me, I silently pad across the carpet on the floor to the windows. Light from the white street
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