It’s dark and musty inside the cafeteria, I bet no one’s been in here in ages, much less opened a window.
“I figured you’d get hungry long before now,” the kid says, flipping on the lights that cut my eyes as they come on brighter than the sun. “After the workout last night, I mean.”
I round on him and give him the meanest, strictest look I can muster. Which might be softer than I intended, because at least he just confirmed that what I think happened last night actually did. Maybe I’m not going insane. Maybe my faulty memory is all just down to stress and tiredness.
“You been spying on me?” I ask venomously. “You shouldn’t do that if you know what’s good for you.”
Fear flashes across his eyes and his stupid grin falters for a moment. But then he just grins wider.
“I got money if you’re up for some more fun,” he says. “And the noodles will be on the house, obviously.”
I almost slap him. No, I almost punch him. But I do neither because above all, I just don’t want to touch him.
“Watch your mouth, boy,” I hiss at him. “When my boyfriend hears of this, you’ll wish you kept your perverted ass in the backroom playing video games and your nasty thoughts to yourself. Assuming you’ll still be able to think when he gets done with you.”
It’s been so long since I’ve actually had to put a man in his place by myself, I’m tripping over my words. While I was with Monarch, men hardly dared to look at me. And the Sinners weren’t very interested in me after I got friendly with Piston. Clearly, I’ve lost my touch, because this dumb kid just keeps grinning.
“Your boyfriend?” he asks stupidly. “Oh, you mean that guy who couldn’t get out of here fast enough this morning. He didn’t even bother to pay for the room for tonight. But don’t worry, I’m sure we can work something out.”
Hearing that feels like all the air’s been sucked out of me, down to the last breath I was just taking. But I didn’t get this far in life by depending on anyone other than myself.
“Is that right, you little bitch? He left me the money to pay for the room because he was in a hurry. And he really won’t be happy that you mistook me for a whore,” I say. “He won’t be happy to the tune of messing up your face, and you’ll be lucky if he stops there. He’s a killer and so am I.”
I probably went too far, but at least the kid is sufficiently scared now. His mouth is gaping open, and he’s so pale, the zits on his face are standing out like red siren lights.
“Now run along and get me some real food to eat and maybe I’ll let this slide, just this once,” I say.
“Is…is pizza OK?” he stutters.
“Yes, pizza’d be perfect.”
“I’ll…I’ll order it,” he says, already backing up towards the door. He hits it ass first and spends a couple of cringey moments trying to get it open without taking his wide, scared eyes off me.
“Bring it to my room,” I say once he finally gets the door open. He nods, turns, and strides away.
When I follow him outside, he’s already inside the reception area, the phone pressed to his ear.
Good. He’s handled. I just hope he’s not calling the cops.
But my feeling of triumph is short-lived. The night I and Colt had, no, created was pure magic, unique and perfect, out of this world amazing, one of a kind. But was it just a fucking one night stand?
12
Colt
Me and Blaze share a tiny bedroom in the bunker. There’s just enough room for a steel frame bunk and getting on and off it. Not enough room to turn, not for big guys like us. Most of the guys sleep in one room filled with camp beds, and I’m thinking that might be better, or at least airier, as I try and fail to get some sleep in this airless, windowless room. Every time I doze off, try as I might to hold on to the images of Brenda’s soft, milky skin, the pale pink of her nipples, and the deeper pink of her lips invariably turn to images of Mitch’s blown up body.
His messed up, bloody face is so clear in my mind, I might as well have been there to see it. I wake up with the sound of the explosion ringing in my ears, my heart pounding, sweat beading on my forehead and running down the sides of my neck, and memories of Brenda so faint and faded I can’t call them back to mind.
After the fourth time it happens, I give up, lower myself off the top bunk, take my clothes that I’ve tossed into a heap on the floor and go into the hall to get dressed.
If we’re not doing anything, if we’re just sitting tight in this airless concrete box in the middle of the desert, I might as well get Cross’ permission to do my waiting at the Lucky Star Motel with Brenda. I can even move her somewhere closer to here. Because I have a nagging feeling I won’t escape the image of Mitch’s destroyed face until I’m in her arms again.
I hope to hell I don’t run into Blaze as I make my way through the maze of hallways that make up this bunker to get to Cross’ office. Blaze will just try to talk me out of asking for this and I’ll end up listening to him, and I don’t want to.
Raised voices fill the hallway where Cross’ office is. A guy whose voice I don’t recognize is saying how there’s no way in hell he’s backing down from what was started last night. He goes on to list all the different ways the Knights have been wronged by the Sinners over the years and just how many scores they have to settle. He even goes so far as to tell Cross in no uncertain terms that they gave us the Sinners’ president, in exchange for being able to take out the rest of them. Gave us the Sinners, my ass. They gave us nothing.
I’m almost at the office before I realize the door is open and I have no business being here since this is clearly execs level shit. I turn and stride away, total silence now filling the hall behind me.
“This is our show, Butch,” Cross says in that dark, menacing tone he sometimes gets. The tone that lets everyone know he’s not a man to be messed with. “I lost one of my guys in your stunt last night and I will lose no more. You’re only in on this job because one of mine is related to you, and I wish to see justice done. But don’t push me and don’t assume any kind of command over me. You will pull back and do nothing until I say so. Is that clear?”
I can practically hear the man who was speaking before swallowing hard.
“Is that clear?” Cross asks again, his voice a few shades darker and even more menacing, if that’s even possible.
“Fine, we do it your way,” the man finally says. I don’t hear honest agreement in his voice and I think he’s just saying that, but clearly Cross is willing to take him at his word, because they start moving around in there.
I jog the rest of the way down the hallway and out of sight of the door. The last thing I need is to be caught eavesdropping on Cross’ private meeting right now. The man sounds pissed off as all hell. Livid.
“Colt? What are you doing here?” Ace asks behind my back, startling me.
When I turn, Cross is a few paces behind him, piercing me with his dark eyes so completely, I’m certain he knows I was listening in to his meeting. I’m the one swallowing hard.
“I was just…I was gonna ask if I can…if I can take the rest of the night off and go off to—”