Read Online Flash Point by Colby Marshall - Free Book Online Page A

Yorke?’ Yancy called.
    â€˜Right out!’
    â€˜Take your time,’ Yancy called back then sat down in one of the two black chairs against the wall on his right side and pressed the button at the ankle on his prosthetic. The pin released, and he pulled his personal, built-in baton away from his stump and laid it on the empty chair next to him. The plastic, detailed limbs around the room loomed in his peripheral vision.
    To each his own, but Yancy had always preferred the metal, even when he used his fiberglass cover over it so it looked less obvious under pants. He’d originally chosen this type of leg for its functionality since before the accident he’d loved to run, but now it was a pure survival technique. Oboe could try to chew the metal leg all he wanted and not make a dent, but choose hopping to the bathroom instead of re-legging one time during a gaming session with a plastic leg and the sausage would make himself the most expensive dachshund alive. Yancy’d learned not to underestimate the devious bastard, and it would suck
big time
to have to come in to Mr Yorke’s shop and explain he’d need a new designer limb because a dog smaller than his stump had wreaked havoc on it in the two minutes he was in the john.
    â€˜Hello, hello, Mr Vogul!’ Caspar Yorke called from the door at the back room as he bustled into the front. The guy was so short Yancy couldn’t see him until he cleared the shelves housing boxes of liners and other prosthetic accouterments near the far end of the shop, but as soon as he appeared, he grinned, the dimples in his cheeks studding his shiny, round face. ‘So sorry to keep you waiting,’ he said as he passed Yancy, grabbed a chair from behind the counter by the door, and dragged it forward. He sat down in front of Yancy and folded his hands in his lap. ‘What can I do for you today?’
    Yancy smirked, suppressing a laugh. He’d been tight on time when he’d called a couple days ago, so he hadn’t told the man why he was coming in. He’d bet anything Mr Yorke was expecting another ‘rare’ request. And why wouldn’t he? Yancy
had
once had him design a leg with a compartment for a gun, after all.
    â€˜Eh, nothing nearly as interesting as what you’re imagining, I’m afraid,’ Yancy said. ‘I think I just need an angle adjustment with these new kicks I got. Balance is a tad off.’
    He picked up his leg from the chair beside him and showed Yorke how the socket wasn’t hitting quite right, despite the shoes being the same brand of specialty sneakers he usually bought. ‘Guess the slightly different style changed more than I thought it would. Can you fix me up?’
    Yorke leaned closer, examining. ‘I think so. Let me take this in back and make a quick adjustment. Then, we’ll put it on and let you walk in it for me, see if we can do anything to fix you up totally today or if you’ll have to suffer the horror of using the other custom I made you before you got the idea to request legs inspired by the Container Store.’
    Yorke left, and Yancy leaned against the chair back and closed his eyes. Yorke never took long, so getting out a book or checking his social media probably wasn’t even worth it.
    But Jenna might’ve texted you back, tough guy. You’ve got time for that, don’t you? You always do …
    He reached in his pocket, pressed the side button as he sat up, and opened his eyes.
    A quick movement from his right startled him. His head snapped toward it.
    Holy shitstorm in Richmond.
    Claudia Ramey stood in front of him, and she had a gun.

Ten
    â€˜What’s the matter, Yance? You look surprised to see me.’
    â€˜What the fuck are you doing here?’ he spat.
    So. Loverboy thought this would fool her.
Or maybe he’s trying to fool himself.
‘Want me to think you’re more angry than afraid?’ Claudia laughed.