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Second Chance(gentleguy/lady)

Joined
Nov 30, 2010
Eric Reynolds was what one would call the epitome of Scandinavian breeding, blond, blue eyed and pale. But to call Eric a blue eyed blond would do him an injustice, for his hair was the color of snow on the tundra, the blue at the center of a glacier, and just as warm. If there had been any justice in the world, the mob heir would be as dumb as bricks, but the man was brilliant, with a IQ that made his fucking around with the cops seem like an obscene joke, because he had turned to them in a desperate need to get away from his family. And he hadn’t been able to. He’d been sent back. Shaking his head to clear the morbid thoughts the blond man sighed quietly as he looked towards the park as he climbed out of his car.

The man was so not looking forward to meeting his new ‘partner’, it was definitely not something he wanted to consider. Taking her in as his fake girlfriend was disturbing to the mob son, though it was easier to pass off then just pretending she was a prostitute or whore. At least as his girlfriend he could treat the cop as his equal. Though the fact that the woman was in fact coming in to see if he was still working with the cops or not, just pissed him off. Even after 10 years of being abused and mistreated by both his family and the officers, the man was tired, so very tired of his life. Only the fact that the man wasn’t suicidal, or didn’t want to give up hope that they could help him find his missing sister, kept him from offing himself and fucking up both his father’s day, and the cop’s.

Raising the cigarette he was smoking to take up puff he smiled a little, taking a deep inhale before snuffing it off on the bottom of his boot, looking more like a biker then a Harvard trained lawyer in black combat boots, a snug pair of jeans, and a black sweater that hugged his lean frame. Absently making his way towards the woman he could see walking towards him, he wondered how she was going to make the meeting look like a accident, like a first meeting between strangers, instead of a planned meeting between co-workers. Wincing a little to himself, he wondered if he really was going to be able to pull off the fake girlfriend act, when he no longer cared what happened.

Gone was the hopeful 18 year old who’d thought to bring down his father’s empire, at 28, the heir apparent of a mob family was breaking under the strain.
 
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