to be with danger

not finding a moment

For the next two weeks, they were a living hell for type, he had to keep looking over these files and books for Any inconsistent numbers, to then go back to that hotel to be overally tired, since he stayed to the office late to try and find something.
By the third week start, type slowly opened his eyes to peer them up to see his alarm going off to sign.
Taking a hand to it, he then popped it off, to then roll to his back to get slowly up to place a hand to the back of his neck to scratch to then yawn to then grit his teeth.
The nicotine withdrawal was getting to him.
Every time he managed to find a moment to try and leave that building to try to go across the street to the market, he was stopped by Mr. Tyme or mainly his guards. This man really didn't want him to smoke and it was starting to get to type.
Placing his hand down he then got slowly off the bed to place his legs over the edge to then place his elbows to the top of his legs to place his hands to his eyes to rub a bit.
You can over come your nicotine addiction, need to think on what to do.
Can't get a fucking read off of this guy, also I still have no idea where they have ceto and if he is alright.
Did they kill him? Don't think so, however I really don't know.
Type then took his hands away to then place to either side of himself to then lift his head back to then look to the ceiling to take in a deep breathe.
I need to find something wrong so I can gain this bastards trust since I don't fucking interest him.
Type shook his head to then get up to go to the bathroom to start to get ready in irritation.
Done, he then opened the door to start to go out to sign has he looked ahead, he saw one of Mr. Tymes guards there to then move out there hands for type to proceed.
Type rolled his eyes to then turn to go down the hall to head to the elevator, the guard went in with his head forward to then push the button for them to head down.
Type went all the way back to wrap his arms about to then hang his head.
This was something else that started to irritate him.
There was always guards about, type never really had a moments peace, even when he went to the bathroom he was under timed management.
If he took to long a guard then would go in to stand outside the stall to rush him along. Type felt he was in prison.
Moving his head up, type looked about the guards back to then move away from the wall to go forward behind until they reached outside to wait for the car.
Signing again, type turned his head to make a pained face, someone near him was smoking.
Type flexed his jaw to then turn his head forward to then go about the guard and quick to get inside to move to the side to let them in.
Has they both were to get in, you're kept his head turned to make a face.
God! This is fucking killing me!
After a bit, they were able to get to the office, for type to get out, to then walk a bit to look up to see Mr. Tyme there with two guards to either back of him to look at type to then raise up his arm to then point to his watch to then take his index finger to it to tap.
Type rolled his eyes.
"I'm not late."
Mr. Tyme lightly chuckled to then place his arm down.
"It's been almost a month, you haven't given me any results. Things are not looking good for your brother."
Mr. Tyme turned to then go about, type widened his eyes to then follow and quick to then walk near him to eye.
"What did you mean by that?"
Mr. Tyme placed his hands to his pockets to keep going forward with a smile to not say a word.
Type narrowed his eyes to click his jaw, he then stepped quicker to then go in front of mr. Tyme to push him back a bit.
He looked to type with widened eyes to then hold up a hand when his guards were about to draw out there guns.
Type then wrapped his arms about himself to look sternly to him.
"I need to know where my brother is and if he is alright. Not knowing it's hurting my changes to get you your results!"
Mr. Tyme made a face to then take out his phone to look at it, type then eyed it to sign heavily, he then widened his eyes has Mr. Tyme moved the phone up to show type a picture of ceto holding a place card that has his writing on it stating he was fine and get back to work, type then saw the gun to his temple, he couldn't help to gulp.
"How do I know this was taken today?"
Mr. Tyme nodded to then bring to phone to himself to type something to then wait a moment to then hold out the phone.
He saw a video, where ceto said the day it was and to get back to work.
Type signed to then look to the ground.
"Satisfied?"
Type gritted his teeth.
"Not really." He mumbled.
Mr. Tyme placed his phone back to his pocket too then walk towards type to turn his head to go to his ear.
"That makes two of us."
Types eyes widened a bit to then turn to watch Mr. Tyme walk off.
"Why did you say that?"
Mr. Tyme stopped to then turn his head to look over type.
"I believe you know. Now tick tock."
Types lips parted to then turn his head forward to scream in his mind.
Fucking damnit!
He then turned to go to that office.
I need to find someting and fucking now! This man is taking my head for a trip and I don't fucking like it, but one bit!