Bad to the Bones(48)



His reliable Softail hesitated, then leaped into life between his thighs. He dared look behind him, now that escape was certain. One daimyo was walking sideways up to the shack, never taking his eyes from Knoxie.

The Bihari loonies would really have a bone on for him now.





CHAPTER FOURTEEN




BELLAMY


After Knoxie left for Nogales, and after Speed ran Bodhisattva out of The Citadel on a rail, I started sliding back into another dimension. I knew from seeing Dr. Petrie that I probably needed antidepressant meds for my condition, but I was resisting taking them. After being doused by the “granola” and hash lassis of Bihari, I realized I had probably been in a drug-induced haze for years.

So, by wanting to get clear, I slipped back into an alternate reality. It was my psyche’s way of protecting me from terrifying situations. Bodhi’s visit brought it all back to me, how close I still was to the danger zone, how I hadn’t freed myself entirely from it yet. Virginia was still up there, for one. And Bodhi wanted me back.

That made no sense at all. If he just wanted a green card, he could marry any one of a thousand willing victims. Bodhi was one of Shakti’s main advisors, always at his side. Could it be that he really liked me? I was so far removed from any objective viewpoint of reality, I never knew which conclusion I could trust.

So I withdrew into a shell where I could observe everything around me, gathering information like a toddler. Madison’s old BFF Sabrina came by the Citadel to see me, reminiscing about pre-Coyote Buttes days before our youth went to hell when we’d have slumber parties, play paranormal games, collecting our Breyer horse models because, I guess, we thought we’d be cowgirls someday.

I wasn’t allowed to leave the airfield because I was under their protection. Lytton was all over me like ugly on an ape, not that I went anywhere other than my room or the hangar. He went overboard when he heard that Bodhi had paid me a visit, and armed himself with a military grade automatic. It felt wonderful to be so protected, but I missed Knoxie with a dull, constant throb.

Sucking his cock had only put the jones in me. Suddenly I was bombarded by hormones swooshing down and lifting me up, taking me off to distant realms. I was not even in my own body half the time. Like a performing bear, I went about the motions, but the memory of that glorious, unpierced cock kept coming back to me. How velvety the glans against the back of my throat. How delicious the semen, as though he drank nothing but power drinks. His sinewy belly under my probing fingertips. The delight of his nipple bead…

For lack of anything better to do, I tried to pry information from Lytton about Knoxie.

“He could’ve gotten anyone to guard me,” I said. I was installing a new ignition module on Faux Pas’s Dyna. The hangar doors had been thrown wide open to reveal an iron-grey sky, the beginning of a wet front. I worried about Knoxie out there on his own. Ziggy had brought my Sporty back and I’d seen him a few times since then, so I knew Knoxie was on his own down there at the dangerous border. I knew he was capable, tough, savvy, but I also knew about stray bullets and fate. “He could’ve gotten his fellow Prospects Bobo and…what’s that new guy’s name? Fudd?”

“Mergatroyd,” said Lytton, flipping the page on his Kindle. Dr. Driving Hawk needed to keep on top of modern scientific weed farming methods, on top of his chemistry, to assure that his Leaves of Grass farm stayed on the cutting edge. He was always perusing enormous equations that looked like chicken scratch to me. He had way more important things to do than to guard me. “He hasn’t patched over yet. Bellamy, Knoxie wants to protect you. Don’t you get it? He hasn’t been this riled up over a woman since he met Nicole twenty years ago.”

I set down my wrench and wiped my brow with the back of my wrist. This was the perfect opening to find out more about Knoxie. “Why did he get divorced, do you know?”

Lytton looked levelly at me. “Why don’t you ask him?”

“It’s not the sort of thing you ask, if you know what I mean. What is his wife like?”

“Ex-wife?” Lytton shrugged. “You know I only joined the club last year right before Knoxie and Nicole went bust, so I don’t know her very well. His kids are sharp, though. Had them up to my farm once and they knew a lot about science, about hydrology, botany, and chemistry. I’ll tell you one thing. Knoxie’s not going to commit to anyone again until he feels financially secure. It always rankled him that he lived in a shitty row house with cinderblocks for bookshelves. Let’s face it. Ink slinging isn’t the most lucrative career. He does it for the love of the art. Like I farmed pot for the love of it, before I realized it’d make a shit-ton of benjamins.”

I frowned. “But is working for the Bones any more lucrative?”

Lytton frowned back. “You should know better than to ask that, Bellamy. It’s okay. You’re learning.” He eased up on me. “What he’s been doing for us, yes. It’s invaluable. He’s redefining the lines of our backyard, our territory. He’s helping to remove the invaders. People step on our turf, start messing around, putting their fingers in our pies, we’re understandably pissed off.”

“So he’s…security.”

“In a way, yeah. More like enforcement.”

“He’s like the daimyo at my compound.”

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