Roswell waited for Pecker boy to tuck in sleeping beauty. What in bloody hell was taking so long? How can he stand the sound of that cow snoring? Let's get on with it already. The clause prohibiting him from killing her rubbed him like callous feet. While he was a patient man, a methodical fellow, a professional of unquestionable skill, this assignment was dragging on far too long. He would not let that bore of woman interfer any more. Peter Pecker would be killed tonight, and if he had a take a cut for killing her, too, to do, so be it.
Finally, Peter locked Janie's door and tip-toed the ten steps across the hall to his flat. His own head was throbbing, a dull, persistent ache the source of which he couldn't figure out. Janie had drank like a fish not he. No matter, to bed and in the morning he'd be fine.
"Good evening, Mr. Pecker."
*Every Wednesday, Thom posts three words at 3WW. I'm stuck. I can't figure out how to quicken the pace, use the words, and keep this compact all at once. lol To see what others have done with the word choices go here.