All Things Pretty (Pretty #3)(45)
Author: M. Leighton

I log on through the secure connection and browse through the pages. Nothing really noteworthy comes up.

But then I come to a juvie record for Tommi. I’m not too surprised to find that she’d been dinged a couple of times for petty theft and once on a drug charge. What does surprise me is the intake information on the sealed record. I stare at it for several seconds, my mind sure that my eyes are missing something. Putting something in the wrong spot. Misreading something. But the more I stare at it, the clearer it becomes.

Name: Tommy Lawrence

Age: 16

Sex: M

Sex. Male.

My pulse races. I can’t make myself look away from the little screen of my smartphone. What the hell am I missing? I know this can’t be right. I mean, I’ve had sex with Tommi a couple dozen times in the last few days. I think I would’ve noticed if she were a he.

Wouldn’t I?

My palms start to sweat as I think back to those late night talk shows that have interviews with people who’ve had a sex change. All the hormones they’re given to accentuate certain traits while suppressing others, hormones that give guys tits and a smooth face. And the surgeries, the procedures they have for removing penises and making vaginas.

I wipe my damp brow and force myself to think as rationally as I can. There’s no reason to panic. There has to be an explanation. A very reasonable explanation. I mean, no doctor in the world could engineer a pussy as perfect as Tommi’s. All pink and wet. Lips almost shaved smooth. Clit that reacts to my slightest touch. Muscles that squeeze my cock so tight I wanna scream. Only God can make a body like that.

I relax a little in my seat. I’m finally able to exhale, feeling better about this information already. But only a little. In another way, I’m even more keyed up.

I knew Tommi was hiding something. I guess she’s hiding more than I ever imagined. Obviously, she’s not Tommi Lawrence. But then the question is: Who is she? And where is Tommy Lawrence?

Before I can even formulate a next move, I hear a door open. It whips so hard it hits the stopper on the concrete wall. Tommi is practically running toward me. Something’s wrong.

My heart leaps up into my throat. Chest gets tight, lungs strain to move, pupils dilate–my entire body is ready for battle.

I get out and meet her in front of the truck, taking her upper arms and bending to look into her eyes. “What’s wrong? Did he hurt you? So help me God–”

“No,” she breathes frantically. “It’s Travis. Oh my god, Sig, they took Travis! That bastard has my brother!”

TO BE CONTINUED…