Page 92 of The Chemist

“This is bullshit. How are we supposed to figure anything out when we have no idea what’s going on inside?” Jared huffed in frustration. He dropped his butt onto the ledge of the building next to them.

“Maybe if you morons would shut the fuck up, we could hear what was being said,” Marc barked into the comms.

Yeah, the guy was kind of a growly asshole when he wanted to be.

Jared was right. They were wasting this opportunity sitting out here hoping for scraps.

Across the street, Diesel watched as an older gentleman knocked on the door and whispered something to the bouncer before the two of them helped the older man’s date into the bar.

Then it hit him.

“All of their dates are wasted. Probably high as fuck, which is why the victims don’t remember how they got to the party,” Diesel rushed, quickly scanning the street for oncoming traffic.

They had no idea how to gain access to the party. All they kept hearing were random passwords being given by the men approaching the door. Were these passwords then matched against a list of guest names?

Once again, there were too many unknowns.

“Shit. I think the emo stripper is right,” Marc grumbled over the comms.

“Use your nice words, or I’m telling your husband, Marc,” Chase warned, to Diesel’s surprise.

Perhaps Chase really was one of them now.

“We gotta get inside that party.” Diesel huffed.

“Yeah, but we have no way in,” Zero jumped in.

“Over there. That’s my ticket.” Diesel pointed at a man helping a wasted dude out of his car. The car was parked in a dark, secluded lot around the corner from the bar.

“No, D, you’re not—” Zero began.

Diesel wasn’t listening. He didn’t care what Zero or any of the others had to say. They needed to get into that party, and he was their best shot at getting in.

“Here, hold this,” Diesel said to Jared, passing him his sweater before pulling a small bottle of whiskey out of their equipment bag—what was a stakeout without a little booze and snacks?

He took a swig of the whiskey before pouring a shit ton of it over his skintight tank top before tossing the closed bottle back in his bag.

Next, he reached into the side pocket and pulled out a tiny metal container from which he pulled out a pre-rolled joint. It was a little party favor that he had been saving for later on in the night when he and Jared got bored as fuck.

“D, what the heck are you doing?” Jared asked, watching him light up the end and take two quick tokes. He needed to look believable.

“Here, you can have the rest.” He passed the joint to Jared, then took off jogging toward the man who had finally managed to get his date out of the car.

As he approached the man, he wondered if this was the smartest move. But they didn’t have any other options. They needed to get inside that party.

“Hey, stud, how’s it going?” Diesel asked, sneaking up beside the man and slipping his arm through the man’s left arm.

“What?” the man cried, startled. He stumbled under the weight of his date.

“Looks like your date is done for the night,” Diesel said, brushing his firm body up against the man’s. “How about you come party with me instead?”

The man looked between Diesel and his date. “No. Umm, my date is fine. He’s just had a few too many to drink.”

Judging by the fact that his date could barely stand up, he figured that his date had gone well past the limit for personal consent. Men… and women like this asshole were pigs. Taking advantage of people, especially when they were not in control of themselves, made him sick.

“Well, if your date is this drunk on their own, I’m pretty sure he’ll be shit at sucking your dick for you later, dude. I, on the other hand,” Diesel stepped out in front of the man, grabbing his own cock in the process, “can show you the night of your life.”

The man licked his lips as he stared down at Diesel’s rapidly thickening cock. Thank God for his ability to pop a boner in any given situation.

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