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woman you wanna keep forever. I've never met a woman who I ever considered keeping. Never figured I would. Until now. You didn't answer my question. Are angels real?
                 
    The brunette woman adjusts her long braid. “You're awake.”
                 
    “Are you the Angel of Death?” I groan through the throbbing pain in my head. “Am I in Heaven?”
                 
    “Hell.”
                 
    So I'm not always the smartest guy and I may not know as much about lore as other people, but I'm pretty sure angels are a Heaven thing right ?
                 
    My eyes struggle to focus, but when they do, the sight in front of me makes me want to question her again about her angel status. Her olive skin looks soft enough to blanket more than just the pain in my body away.  The long braid she seems to be fiddling with would wrap nicely around my hand while those brown eyes that are sparkling at me would look even sweeter, brighter from the orgasm I'd give her.
                 
    No, I'm not ignoring her perfectly curved figure that's trying to hide under those white scrubs. I'm just trying to be a gentleman and not mention it. So what if I just mentioned giving her an orgasm? What's your point?
                 
    “Stop looking at me like that,” she sharply whispers.
                 
    With a crooked smile I ask, “Like what?”
                 
    “Like I'm every other girl that's ever crossed the McCoy path.”
                 
    “You're so far from it...”
                 
    She tries to hide her smirk, but I see it.
                 
    You see it too, don't you? I told you. McCoys are hard to resist.
                 
    Groaning once more, I drag my body upward and lean it against the pillows behind me. “Where am I?”
                 
    “You're in one of my many homes,” a voice I recognize says from somewhere in the background. Melody steps to the side and reveals a face on the screen I was hoping the next time I saw it would be in a news report about being found dead. “Welcome.”
                 
    No, he's not here for his Forbes magazine photo shoot. He is one of the most wanted criminals in the country. I can easily see how you think those two things could go hand in hand, but this time they don't. Well, is there a criminal edition of that mag?
                 
    I rub the back of my neck. “Your hospitality has been generous.”
                 
    “You're alive, aren't you?”
                 
    Don't agree with him .
                 
    “For a purpose.” My reply makes him smirk. “What the fuck do you want?”
                 
    “Right to the point. You have learned a thing or two from the oldest of you McCoys.” He leans back in his office chair. “You're here to do a job for me.”
                 
    “Fuck you,” I bite. “We don't fucking work for you anymore. That's what happens when you kill our fucking family.”
                 
    He nods and snaps his fingers. At that moment the screen splits in half revealing Daniel, tied up in a chair, slightly bruised, with duct tape on his mouth and gun against the back of his head.
     
    Shit...
                 
    “I have no problem killing more of you if necessary,” he states. “I only need two of you triplets for this job and as far as I'm concerned one less McCoy is never a bad thing. Now, would you like to watch your brother’s brains paint my basement wall or shall I continue?”
                 
    I swear I can feel the pressure of that loaded weapon against the back of my own head .
                 
    With a deep growl I shake my head. “What do you want?”
                 
    He waves his hand and the weapon lowers from Daniel's skull. His camera angle