Read Online Second Chances by Andrea Speed, A.B. Gayle, Jessie Blackwood, Katisha Moreish, J.J. Levesque - Free Book Online

of a patient until finally he was granted an audience with … someone. Someone who was supposed to explain some things to him. Her name was Ms. Pierce.
    He wasn’t going to wear a stupid paper gown, but they had no clothes for him beyond shapeless, drab coveralls in dishwater gray. They looked like the kind of clothes a prisoner on work detail might be assigned if they were out of shocking orange, and Flynn wondered if that was a clue to what was really going on. This was some kind of prison set up, wasn’t it? Maybe he should just be glad he didn’t end up in Russian mafia hands, but somehow he wasn’t.
    He was escorted by beefy armed guards through the hospital, and out some kind of secret passage to a waiting windowless van. Yep, felt like a prison transfer, only he wasn’t cuffed.
    The two men, built like the unfortunate offspring between the Hulk and some industrial freezers, refused to say a word to him when he asked where they were going. So he decided to try their patience. He prattled the whole trip, mainly regaling them with tales of this muscle queen he knew in San Fransisco who had a shoe fetish and a brief day job at the Foot Locker, until the inevitable happened. He knew he was pissing them off, but sadly, before he broke them, they arrived at their destination.
    He was escorted straight into a bland, empty lobby, and beyond it into what appeared to be a modified conference room. There was a long table, and at the end of it was seated a middle aged woman with Clariol blonde hair done up in a severe bun, the harshly angular features of her face making it look like she was a particularly cruel Greek goddess carved out of marble. Her eyes were such a pale, watery blue they were more of a suggestion than an actual color. From what he could tell, she was wearing some kind of brown “power suit”.
    “Please, Flynn, have a seat. I understand you’ve been causing as much trouble as a coma patient possibly could.”
    “If I could have made a bomb, I’d have blown up your fucking hospital.”
    One of the muscle queens tightened the grip on his arm so it became painful, but the woman seemed unfazed. “Yes, your reputation proceeds you. Please, have a seat.”
    Although it was said in a mild, bland way, he got the sense it was an order. When it felt like the Beige Hulk number one was going to force him down into a seat, Flynn simply sat down. The shaved apes stood behind him, python arms crossed over barrel chests. “What reputation is that?” Flynn asked, curious.
    “That you’re an asshole.”
    That actually startled a laugh out of him. “Well, yeah. I could have told you if you just asked.”
    She made a dismissive gesture to the shaved apes. Her fingernails were well manicured and painted a pale pink. “Wait outside. I’ll let you know when we’re done.”
    There was some hesitation, but the goons left as they were told. She had some power, and since she was not afraid of him, he had a feeling she either had a panic button or was armed. Not that he had any plans to attack her, he wasn’t a maniac … but was the table nailed down? He was curious.
    Flynn watched the thugs go, and then asked, “So who are you? Prosecutor, attorney assigned to me by the state, what?”
    Her lips curved in a thin smile that wasn’t too convincing. “You still think you’re a prisoner?”
    “I am. I can’t leave this place, I can’t talk to my boyfriend, apparently I can’t call an attorney, and I haven’t the slightest fucking idea why I’m here or where I am.”
    “Beyond killing Henry Vale, also known as Heinrich Petrov, with a fountain pen?”
    “Wow, German and Russian? I bet he was fun at parties.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “It was self-defense, you know. He kidnapped my boyfriend, and he was trying to kill us both.”
    “True, but pounding a pen through his eye? Even the most sympathetic jury is going to see that as somewhat egregious.”
    “It was all I had. I’d have killed him with