How did I get here? Holding a detective hostage, kept locked away and trying to figure out what the fuck I should do to him?
Well that’s a good question but to answer that I’ll have to take you back, before all of this drama started; the good times.
Damn it was cold in Boston, it always seemed to be as of lately. The morning air looked like a plume of smoke that covered the streets.
Not a soul out at this time of morning, or not anyone that’s fucking sane anyway.
A pair of jeans and a thick coat tugged tightly around was always the best way to keep warm, aside from a fireplace of course.
Another early morning that was accompanied by a light jog that would be a warmup compared to the rest of the workout; you had to keep fit to be in this line of work.
That’s her, the criminal, the one jogging down the street in a pair of track pants that had a decorative four leaf clover along the pant leg.
Short brown hair with headphones in her ear’s, covered in numerous tattoos and a lot of them indicating her pride of being a Boston born Irish.
Read the rest via the link in the description!