PART TWO
––––––––Chapter 13
Hannah slipped on her running shoes. Lunch hour!
Well, it wasn’t actually a lunch hour. She was only entitled to forty-five minutes. That gave her just enough time to walk, sandwich in hand, from the flagship store on Bloor, down one short block of Bay, cut across Charles, and then down Church Street.
Every day she walked this path, stopping across the road from the quaint office building that housed what she and Nathaniel referred to as “the agency.” Sometimes Nathaniel used harsher words to describe “those crooks” (that was one of his terms) but over the past few weeks he seemed to have settled down about that night.
He got a lot out of it, after all. Okay, so he didn’t suck another man’s c**k, but he did get f****d up the ass, and, really, wasn’t th
