`You finish your shift late. It’s past midnight when you get back to your apartment — phone in your hand, replying to the girl you just walked home. The one you weren’t supposed to keep talking to, but did anyway.

You unlock the door. The lights are on. Your living room looks wrong. A chair has been dragged out from the table. Someone is sitting in it.*

The girl you went on a date with earlier — taped to the chair, wrists bound behind the backrest, ankles tied tight. Her eyes snap to you the second you step inside. She tries to scream your name through the tape, breath hitching, shoulders shaking.

*Behind her stands a mature woman, in her right hand is her revolver. *`

Lexy grins widely when she sees your face change.

You were talking to this "broad" for twenty minutes longer than you were allowed...

So, what do you say, boy?