Bad to the Bones(54)
She shrugged. “Maybe because having a child was never in my cards, anyway. Knoxie, think about it! I was engaged to a man I didn’t love, and children were discouraged—”
“I’ll f*cking say!”
“—and I’m f*cking incapable of love anyway! That’s what Dr. Petrie has told me. I know I’m not supposed to talk about what goes on in my sessions, just like you don’t talk about club business, but Petrie has totally advised me against getting close to you. He thinks I’ll be hurt again and I’m too fragile right now and I probably shouldn’t even be boning you.”
Knoxie’s rage became a smoldering ember in the pit of his stomach. How dare that woo-woo medicine man give her advice on her love life? “Oh yeah? And what do you think, Bellamy? You do know that’s the most important thing, right? What you think?”
“Right. I do. I’m trying to do what my gut tells me to do, Knoxie. Just like you said. Earlier, my gut told me to ball the crap out of you. So I did.”
That made Knoxie feel better. At least her instincts were leading her toward him, not away from him. But then she said,
“Knoxie, you know we’re only about bonding. In that respect, it is therapeutic for me. You’re showing me how bonding can be fun, and sensual, and f*cking mind-blowingly out of this world. That’s your gift to me, and I completely appreciate it. But that’s all. I can’t afford to get into any emotional entanglements right now.”
“Of course,” Knoxie huffed. “I totally agree.” But he didn’t.
Someone knocked briskly three times on the door before going ahead and opening it. Knoxie was prepared to flatten whoever had the nerve, but it was Faux Pas, the whacky Frenchman. Faux Pas was one accordion short of a polka band, but in a good way.
Knoxie had never felt any threat from the special effects master, but now Faux Pas had that damned wooden necklace of Bellamy’s in his paw. He started to hand it to Bellamy but Knoxie was faster. He whipped it from Faux Pas’s palm so fast he must’ve left wood burns, and he glared at the round locket photo. Oh. He’d completely forgotten he’d asked Faux Pas to replace the photo of Shakti with one of him. It had been a semi-joke, but also semi-serious. Now it just seemed f*cking ridiculous, and he stuffed it into his jeans pocket.
“But wait, Knoxie,” said Bellamy. “Is that my—”
“Later,” he warned Bellamy, before she dared say anything about it. At the same time, his phone buzzed. He was reading the booty text from Misty when Faux Pas said,
“Great news. The Arizona Attorney General won a new round in his fight to have Bihari declared an illegal city.”
“Yeah, yeah,” said Knoxie distractedly, thoroughly fed up with Bihari at the moment.
Faux Pas said, “We might get that f*cking place shut down through straight, legal channels.”
“When shrimps learn to whistle. You and I both know it takes muscle like us to rid the planet of a pestilence that bad. Listen, I’ve got to get over to my shop. You okay, Bella? Good.”
“You going to be spending the night here?” Bellamy called.
Knoxie was already halfway down the hallway. He just lifted a hand that didn’t answer her question one way or the other. Truth was, he didn’t know. Between the Merry-go-round daimyo and Riker’s gang in Nogales, someone would be gunning for him. It would be easy enough for anyone to find out where he lived. At the very least, Shakti’s goons had already poisoned the judge and the councilman who was opposing the ashramite’s choice for the slot. And from what Rafael had told him, it sounded like they were cooking up some more salmonella in their little lab.
Knoxie had no idea he’d wind up regretting leaving Bellamy so coldly that day. He was pissed that she insisted on keeping their relationship on a trivial level. He agreed she shouldn’t become emotionally entangled with anyone too soon, but that didn’t include him.
He wanted her to become emotionally involved with him. He wanted Bellamy to fall head over heels, desperately, irrevocably, forever. It insulted his manliness that she wanted to keep it superficial.
Most of all, it insulted him to the core that his love wasn’t reciprocated. He felt abandoned and rejected. I sure could use some therapeutic penetration now. He texted Misty back.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
BELLAMY
“There’s no honor among thieves. Aside from us, naturally.” The lawyer Slushy chuckled as he sucked the straw to his orange carrot antioxidant juice.
We had just met at the Public Works Department with a square, solid building inspector named Paul Goodhue. Apparently he was the flame of our old friend Emma Flantz. As a friend of the club but also a backer of anything good for the city, Paul had been trying to get up to Bihari for months now and had been thwarted every step of the way.
He was sure there had been lots of structures built without permits, for one. Three times Paul had gone up to Bihari for appointments but had been blocked by conveniently broken-down heavy equipment in the middle of the road. My former brothers and sisters had been harassing Paul for years now, sticking nails under his tires, and once in the courthouse, Poona even stuck out her foot and tripped him, to uproarious laughter. I knew Poona as a vicious, unstable, nasty witch, and didn’t trust her even when I lived there. She had some medical issues that turned her personality sour. I often saw her with an IV drip in her arm.