Free Rune by H.D. March Page A

reaching for his jeans, struck his legs into them. “I need to leave for a while.”
    Disappointment filtered over her features once his body was clothed and covered up.
    She peered into the play room, then back at him. At least she would get to explore it at leisure.
    “Familiarize yourself with the equipment, I’ll see you later.” He loped to the door and closed it, the key turned as it locked.
    Jess wasn’t sure if he were keeping her in or something out. But hell, talk about an abrupt departure.
    §§§
    Rune roared down the deserted road towards the police headquarters.
    The Lamborghini screamed to a halt in a squeal of brakes and, slamming the door shut, he loped into the building. Rune gave a brief nod to the clerk and strode past the mahogany desk towards his destination. He entered the small office that stank of body odour, stale tobacco, and fries. The heavy stench only relieved by the strong rich aroma of coffee.
    “It’s happened again. This time the bastards took out the staff of the drive through.” The potbellied police inspector polished a hand over his bald head. His stomach strained against his shirt, whilst the buttons shifted and threatened to pop. “The mother fuckers, I eat there every day. Why that place?”
    “Jim, I think the people that were slaughtered might have a word to say about that.” Sarcasm dripped from him. Apart from LeBron, he was the only outsider to know his involvement with the Bureau, along with Phillips, an obnoxious twat that he couldn’t stand. The dislike was reciprocated, yet Rune knew he wouldn’t say a word about who he worked for, even the dumbass had some sense.
    Rune had discovered the jerk was the jealous type that didn’t like his involvement with the more serious matters. To say they had a personality clash was the understatement of the year. Rune longed to tear his throat out every time he opened his mouth. It was only the fact that he represented the Bureau and his knuckles would get rapped good and hard that stopped him. But his time would come, and that appeased him.
    Rune took delight in the fact the last time they’d met he’d hammered the shit out of him. The idiot had taunted and urged him on, not that he needed much pushing, his short temper was legendary. Phillips had remained off work on sick leave for three weeks. Rune knew the fool was stupid enough to come back for more. Just one word, that’s all it would take to send Rune’s irritability into overdrive; he’d rarely experienced such a riot of violent emotions. The man hit every angry, mind-numbing button of destruction, and all aimed at him.
    §§§
    Suddenly, the door slammed open, it reverberated on its hinges, and a large, uniformed officer barged in. His glare burned over Rune. “What the fuck are you doing here?” Three other men hovered behind.
    Rune’s lips curled; shit, but he craved to kill the bastard. Instead, he would have to be satisfied with grinding his fist into his smarmy face. “Doing your job more than likely, you fucking retard.”
    Jim shook his head and picked up his mug of coffee in a rescue mission. “Look you pair, no trouble, I remember the last time—”
    “Yeah, well, try this.” Phillips pulled his arm back to release a bunched fist. And found it held, crated in a hard palm.
    “I’ll break you,” warned Rune.
    “Fuck you, Masters,” and indicated to the men behind. “I’ve got assistance now, and no way will you get the better of me, not with my friends helping me.”
    “Didn’t know you had any,” said Rune and gave a not so nice smile. At a signal from Phillips, they surged forward, and Rune unleashed a savage power of destruction, his fists and legs kicked out with a vicious intensity. The crunch of bone cracked in the air, mingled with screams and shouts. Within seconds, all four men lay in a heap on the blood stained floor.
    Jim shook his head. “Fuck, Rune, what is it with you? Couldn’t you have talked to them? To