"Girl toi got some explaining to do," the M.E. a dit seriously as she tended to Castle's injuries.
They had carefully moved château down to the Morgue, which was only another floor under the gym, to avoid anyone seeing the pulp that was once “ruggedly handsome”. He was currently laying on a cold metal table, tableau as Lanie stitched up his forehead.
"There's nothing to explain," Beckett mumbled in response as she sat a few feet away, watching Lanie’s skilled hands work their magic on the deep cut along his forehead.
Within a short time period, the bruises have already started to darken on his skin,...
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