Through A Glass, Darkly (The Assassins of Youth MC #1)(58)
“Really?” She still seemed unsure, so I slipped my fingers between her thighs. Of course she was soaking wet, so there was no problem inserting the larger ball. Pinching her outer * lips together, I rubbed them, ensuring the larger ball stayed put. She grabbed my shoulders and hissed like a teapot coming to a boil. “Oh! Oh! Oh! Okay, that’s enough!”
I drew back a bit. “How long until you can come again?”
“Oh! You!” She slapped my shoulder with the back of her hand, then grabbed her bikini top. “I’ve got to go pee and check on Vonda. These bikini bottoms are ruined. They say not to ride the bikes naked.”
“I can see why. Here. I’ve got you covered.” I handed her a fresh pair of my boxer briefs. “Sounds like Vonda’s talking to someone out there.” A couple of guys and maybe another woman were outside with Vonda by the light of the lantern.
I loved the thrill in her voice. Everything was so new to her and Vonda. “She’s seen so much, Gideon. I can’t thank you enough for bringing us out here. Of course at first I thought it was a little…unorthodox. I was panic-stricken something would happen to Vonda, or she’d see something that would scar her. But now I think everything she’s seen has only enhanced who she is. This experience is really going to stand her in good stead.”
“But we’d better find out who she’s talking to,” I added.
“Why, yes, of course!”
I finished making myself presentable first, so I went out. A girl wearing a Mad Hatter hat and about a hundred necklaces and buttons on her vest was sitting in my camping chair. Another guy had a suit made entirely of buttons, and the third dude wore a sort of Flash skullcap with lightning bolts attached to it. Two of them had bikes decorated like yaks, and I assumed the Flash guy rode the Segway. In other words, ordinary citizens of Black Rock City.
I went to my chair to take a smoke from the holder attached to the arm, and also to assert my ownership of the space. I was still trying to quit, and had gotten down to about four a day. The girl and the button guy looked at me with awe. The cut had that effect on people.
“These guys do acrobatic yoga, Gideon!” declared Vonda, her eyes alight with excitement. I knew she’d never forget her Burning Man experience. Even if Allred Chiles was waiting for us at home with chains and a tractor to pull my girls back to Cornucopia, the whole thing would have been worth it. Vonda was fifteen, and instead of wearing a drab, depressing excuse for a wedding gown while standing on a mesa, she was here. Her face was painted, her hair was dyed, and she was discussing acrobatic yoga with three stoners.
“Really? And what do you do here?” I asked Flash.
I couldn’t tell if he was stoned behind the goggles shaped like bulging cartoon eyes, but his voice was f*cking unmistakable. And his giggle. He giggled nervously. “Well, I’m an insurance salesman at home, so I really didn’t—”
Just like his namesake, in a flash I had the front of his stupid psychedelic shirt in my hand. There wasn’t much to slam him into, so I wound up half-walking and half-carrying him over to my neighbor’s RV, where I slammed him into the metal siding. “All right, enough of this f*cking charade.”
“Gideon!” cried Vonda.
“What—what—what did I do?” cried Flash.
“What are you f*cking following us for, you f*cking lowdown scumbag? What sort of assmunching super-sleuth business are you up to?” I slammed him again against the RV again. His goggles were wrenched aside, hanging from a string around his neck. People were peering curiously at us, because fighting was uncool in Black Rock City. But it did happen. Take tens of thousands of hungry, filthy people crammed wall-to-wall like sardines, and something’s bound to happen. “Don’t you have anything better to do than to track us all the way up here, you f*cking twatwaffle?”
Bronson Carradine’s fingers scratched ineffectively at my fist. “I…I…”
I slammed him even harder against the recreational vehicle, then let him go. He fell to the ground like a skull-shot zombie, all boneless limbs in a pile. “What’s your f*cking excuse, Carradine? Like spying on teenage girls getting dressed? There’s no f*cking reason for you to be out here. It has nothing to do with Cornucopia. This is now officially my f*cking personal business you’re getting into, and I do not appreciate being tracked.”
Mahalia was at my side, hands on hips. “Bronson Carradine?” Even she swore. “What the f*ck are you doing out here?”
Bronson was picking himself up, shielding himself from me with his forearm. “Listen! I…I…”
I folded my arms. “I’m listening.”
“This better be good,” Mahalia said sternly. I glanced at her. I’d never seen her stern before. I liked it. It suited her.
Carradine held out his hands. “Listen. Listen. I heard through the grapevine that you left Cornucopia. I figured you’d be a lot more amenable toward helping me out, you know?”
I scowled. “So you followed us here?”
“I figured I could use this against you! I could threaten to tell Chiles that I know where you are to get you to spill to me where the weapons are stored!”
Throwing up my hands, I walked in a circle. “Unbe-f*cking-lievable! Carradine, you truly are unbelievable.”
He was brushing himself off now, gaining more confidence. Pulling the hem of his paisley shirt down with dignity. “I still can tell Chiles you’re up here. He can still send his goons up here and drag you all back to his f*cked-up compound. Nothing to stop him from doing that.”