Page 31 of The Chemist

Perhaps, one day.If he was feeling generous and in the mood for swallowingquestioning, straight-dudedick.

But today was not that day.

12

ZERO

Reaching for another potato chip, Zero held the binoculars steady against his face. From where he sat, he had a perfect view of their subject as he browsed some fruit laid out by a local vendor.

Chase, in his infinite wisdom, had decided that tonight, he and his train wreck of a new partner should be placed together to keep an eye on the man that they were investigating—Dr. Nicolaus Baasch. He wondered if perhaps Chase had detected a bit of awkwardness between him and the cocky little bastard at the breakfast table the other day, and this was his way of forcing the two of them to sniff each other’s butts and become best friends.

That only happens in the animal world, dipshit.

Too bad. He wouldn’t mind getting up close and personal with a certain tantalizing behind. Perhaps knock some sense into that selfish little stoner.

He was familiar with guys like Diesel. He’d been dealing with them his whole life. They were lazy, selfish, and couldn’t be relied upon. Take what happened between them the other night.The second the guy shoots his load, he fucks right off, only caring about himself and his own selfish needs.

Focus. You’re here to watchDr. Creeps-a-lot, not devise plans to teach bad boys a lesson.

The sound of the potato chip crushing between his teeth filled the silent void around him.

“Could you chew any louder?” Diesel’s annoyed voice came through the tiny earpiece he had shoved inside his ear. The irritation in Diesel’s voice was loud and clear.

Zero added three more chips to his mouth and began chewing even louder.

“Great, they assigned me with an immature man-child.”

“Immature man-child with a six-pack,” Zero added for good measure.

“Not sure how, when all you’ve done since we started this stakeout is pig out on junk food.”

“It’s called working out. I hit the gym five days a week and watch what I eat… most days.”

Zero turned his binoculars toward the park where a hooded Diesel was sitting on a bench, arm thrown over the back, pretending to be playing on his cell phone.

“So tell me. What’s your workout regime?” Zero asked, curious about this walking gray cloud of sunshine.

“Whiskey.”

A startled chuckle slipped from his lips before he had a chance to get himself under control. He wasn’t going to give the guy the satisfaction of knowing that he found him amusing.

“There’s got to be more than that. You work as a stripper, right? That means you’ve got to have a half-decent body buried under all those layers of clothing.”

“Whiskey and sex. Lots of sex. So much so that people are amazed I even get dressed at all.”

This guy was kind of funny. In a mean-girl kind of way.

“Well, I haven’t seen the body, but you definitely got the porn star dick thing going for you.” He decided to play nice and throw the man a metaphorical bone. A compliment here and there never hurt anyone.

“Thanks. It keeps me employed.”

Now Zero couldn’t help but chuckle.

Damn it.

“Remind me again why I’m stuck outside, alone in a dark park, and you're just chilling inside a warm car with music and snacks?” Diesel asked, turning his head toward the direction of the car.

“Because you're more believable as a sketchy bum just chillin’ in a park looking to score some coke.”

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