Page 79 of Fatality

My breath hitches as my fingers wrap around myself.

A low groan tears from my throat as I start stroking slowly, my grip tight, my head bowed beneath the punishing spray.

I pump my fist faster, my hips rocking into the tight circle of my hand.

Water sluices over my knuckles.

“Fuck.” I grit out, the word lost beneath the roar of the shower.

My orgasm crashes into me, sharp and fucking frustrating. I shake with the intensity of it, I finally got the frustration out of my system.

I stay there for a moment, my forehead pressed against the cool tile.

A sudden beep cuts through the silence. My head snaps toward the sound.

Finally.

Two fucking long hours. That's how long it takes the system to find something.

Otherwise, I'll drive up there myself and wait until she shows up, look in every corner of this shitty city if I have to, until I catch her.

I stalk toward my open living space, not bothering to dry myself, and look at the floating screens.

A picture flashes onto the display.

Her.

My eyes widen slightly before my lips curl into a slow, satisfied smile.

I walk toward the screen and zoom in.

She's younger, way younger. Maybe sixteen.

But it's definitely her.

The fire in her eyes, I'd recognize it anywhere. It's carved into my memory.

She has her lip split and one cheekbone is bruised on the picture.

Back then, she was already trouble?

I swipe the picture aside.

There it is.

Her name, her information.

“Riven Laordie.” I say her name aloud, rolling it around in my mouth, tasting the sound of it.

I like it, but troublemaker fits her better.

“So, who are you, Riven? Let's see...” I swipe through the files. There isn't much, but there's enough. “Born on the thirty-first of March, 2309..."

I keep digging, but nothing catches my interest more than it already has.

I'm about to close the screens when my hand stops mid-motion.

Laordie.