Bad to the Bones(20)
Fuck. This is going to be a big one.
Adrian had to take a few steps toward Knoxie, the better for his partner to feel his wrath. His brow was furrowed, his voice steely. “Mr. Hammett. Am I to understand what you just tried to tell me? That outlaw motorcycle gang is going to pay you to do illegal, dangerous jobs for them? In what way is that better than flaunting your Kentucky telescope in front of every single pervert who wants to cuddle his kielbasa?”
Knoxie had been prepared for this. Adrian might have many clients who operated on the fringes of society, but he was a strictly by-the-books guy. Despite his facial piercings, he was actually a square, conservative man. He came from a staunch Christian home and that learning was often reflected in his nonstop criticisms of—well, nearly everything. Spearing his pencil into the cup, Knoxie folded his arms in front of his chest and leaned back in his chair.
“It’s the logical next step, Adrian. If I want to protect this girl Bellamy, and maybe others like her who are being victimized up there in that loony bin, other girls who are too destitute and think it’s the best alternative to prostitution—well, I’ve got to have muscle behind me. I don’t want to hear any static about how I’m throwing in my lot with criminals. The Bare Bones are a big part of this community, like it or not. They’re businessmen just like us, first and foremost.”
Adrian could barely contain his rage. His pupils were little dots, like the hypnotist in the backs of comic books. His nostrils trembled with anger. “Businessmen who deal in illegal arms and drugs.”
Knoxie shot to a stand, nearly knocking over his chair. He pointed at the ground with a stiff arm. “Listen, they have legitimate business concerns in P&E just like we do. And everyone benefits if we succeed in putting those out of Arizona.”
Adrian was fearless when it came to physical confrontation. He often said he’d been beaten a lot in school as a nerdy kid, purple nurples and swirlies and all of that, but it sure hadn’t made him any more timid. Right now he took an additional step toward Knoxie, who easily hefted about twice the muscle mass on his weightlifting person. “Yes, but what good are you going to be for Sage and Cameron if you’re in jail?”
“Who said anything about going to jail?”
“Don’t all criminals think they’re going to get away with it? Don’t they all protest and act surprised when they’re caught? They’re not sorry for breaking the law! They’re sorry for being caught! Listen, I know those Catholic priests in your childhood did irreparable damage to you. They broke huge, sinful laws of nature—”
Knoxie couldn’t believe Adrian would bring that up. “Those priests are the most warped law-breakers in the universe!”
“—but don’t you agree that doesn’t ruin some of their tenets, such as ‘though shalt not steal’?”
Knoxie shoved on past his partner, headed for the door. Adrian could have the f*cking unfinished sketch. “I’m done with this f*cking conversation, you feeble nitwit. We need a spore test on that autoclave! And you need to order more surgical soap and alcohol. I’ve got f*cking work to do.”
He banged the hell out the door, but could still hear Adrian whining. “Oh, that’s right! Storm out when you know you’re losing the argument! Just see how far those Boners’ type of outlaw justice gets you when you’re the one who needs help! I’m not cleaning up their blood splatters from my antiseptic walls.”
“In your dreams, dotard!” Knoxie yelled back, before he realized he was being juvenile. Still, it pissed him off royally that Adrian had brought up such a sore subject. Who the f*ck said anything about stealing, anyway? What did that have to do with anything? He wasn’t going on a run today. It was strictly for intel, to find out what the f*ck was so damned mysterious and important about “granola.” He didn’t want to start a war with the Fruit Loops until he had a substantial amount of evidence and intel under his belt. If Lytton and Turk had other ideas in mind for jacking that shipment, it was strictly up to them.
So far. He hadn’t even agreed to prospect for them yet. He was an independent contractor.
I’m a f*cking independent contractor and—
Oomph. His breath was sharply knocked from his lungs when he rounded the corner into the alley where his ride was parked. Automatically, he gripped the person by the shoulders. Around here, one never knew if a person one literally bumped into was friend or foe. Especially not in the past few days.
Misty looked up at him with her impish, mischievous eyes. She encircled Knoxie’s wrists in her hands and giggled. “What a great coincidence, Knoxie! I was just coming to see you. A friend of mine was talking about wanting to get inked and I wondered if I could sort of practice on her. I mean, not ‘practice,’ of course, that sounds unprofessional, but I wondered if I could use your—”
In a flash and without forethought, Knoxie had Misty backed up against the brick wall of the alley. He gripped her dainty chin in his hand, her tiny bird’s bones making him feel like a giant. Pinning her to the wall with the strength of his hips, he murmured against her mouth, “I’ve been wanting to get up on your for a long time.” Clamping his mouth down over hers, he felt her submit instantly, weakening and becoming boneless in his hands. Wow. This wasn’t a very difficult battle.
Knoxie was flooded with the adrenaline of virility. His prick instantly plumped like a balloon, and he rubbed it deliciously against Misty’s pubic bone. For someone he’d seen stark naked a hundred times, his body was sure responding to hers, always a good sign. After fifteen years of Nicole, he’d still been attracted to her, a necessity for a real relationship.