I kicked the table leg hard to vent.Not long after, I heard a knock on the window of the security booth.I looked up. "Oh, it's you, Mr. Grant.""Sorry about making you wait. I had to pick up a call."Charles Grant stood next to the window with a small smile. There was a glint in his eye. The warm look on his face seemed fake."That's okay. I did not wait too long."You look like you're in a bad mood. Is everything all right?"I leaned against the door, resting my bad leg, and waved it off.“I am fine. Just lost a game, that is all.”Charles looked down. His eyes lingered on my leg with a strange kind of hunger.That’s how rich people were. Their lives were so comfortable, they ended up with weird fetishes.He enjoyed men, excitement, and was an acrotomophile. Charles licked his lips. His narrowed eyes showed both concern and a spark of something harder to name.“It’s been raining a lot. Your leg must feel worse.”“I’m fine.”The conversation should have ended there.
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