Page 107 of Dead Serious: Case 3 Mr Bruce Reyes

“Yes, you should have,” Bruce tells him firmly. “Someone’s remains are very personal.”

“Sorry,” he says again, and I can tell he’s sincere.

“Apology accepted, but next time”—Bruce’s mouth curves in amusement—“ask permission before handling a bone not your own.”

“I usually do.” Sam grins.

“This is definitely you then, Bruce?” I ask to confirm. Danny’s right—we need to make sure.

“Yes,” he replies. “You need to get them to the bookshop.”

“Okay.” I look around for something to transport them in, knowing it will be too conspicuous to carry the bones out in a nearly transparent plastic box.

Sam has already said he’ll hack the colleges system to make sure there’s no security footage of any of us, something I’m pretty sure he hasn’t told Danny, but we also need to worry about anyone who may see us here and now.

My eyes land on the brown and black archive boxes. Pulling one out, I empty the files and paperwork it contains and shove them back onto the shelf, then I very carefully empty Bruce’s bones into the box, checking nothing has been left behind. Replacing the lid on the empty plastic box, I slide it back into the space on the shelf I took it from and just hope no one will notice the bones are missing for a while.

I slip the lid onto the archive box which now contains Bruce’s remains and am picking the box up when Danny turns and hisses at us.

“Someone’s coming,” he whispers harshly as the door handle rattles. Danny limps quickly to the alcove in the corner and presses himself into it, out of sight, while Sam and I duck down behind the island right as the door swings open. Even though they technically don’t need to hide, Dusty and Bruce lower to the ground behind the island in solidarity, or maybe just because Bruce looks knackered.

“Are you sure this is okay?” A female voice giggles. “What if we get caught?”

“I’m sure. They hardly ever come in here. Besides, no one’s scheduled to be in the labs this morning, so they won’t need any of the samples,” a male voice answers. “Trust me, no one will know we’re here.”

She giggles again. “You are so naughty.”

“I am very, very naughty,” the man croons in a gleeful tone.

“Where’s Mr Tickles?” the woman asks in a sultry voice.

“Mr Tickles?” Sam mouths.

“Does he want to come out and play?” She hums, accompanied by the unmistakeable sound of a zipper lowering.

“Yes, he does, but first I’ve been a very bad boy and should be punished,” the man replies.

My eyes widen as they catch Sam’s amused gaze. There’s a tinkling sound, like the rattle of a belt buckle, then the loud echo of a slap to naked skin a moment later.

Knowing they can’t see her, Dusty climbs to her feet and looks out over the island. Her brows rise and she smirks as she watches them. With an affectionate snort, Bruce grabs her and tugs her back down beside him.

“Yesss,” the man hisses.

“Have you been a naughty boy?” Another loud slap.

“Yesssss.” He drags the word out, ending it on a pleasured chuckle.

“Say it,” she demands.

“I’ve been naughty.” He giggles. “I’m such a naughty boy.”

Slap, slap, slap. The sound echoes around the enclosed room, punctuated by truncated groans and hisses of pleasure.

My brows have lifted so high I’m pretty sure they’re hiding in my hair. In fact, they’re probably as mortified as I am. Sam, on the other hand, is trying not to laugh.

“Oh! Yes!” the man getting spanked shouts loudly. “My wife would never do this!”

Sam winces and I shake my head, feeling really sorry for that poor man’s wife and not because he’s got a kink, but because he’s obviously a dick.