doing no doubt. Thanks to the sanctity of the almighty experiment, I hadn’t even gotten the quickest of readings off the punch.
“Good one.” I gave him a grin, hard and bright. It hurt, but damned if I’d let him see that. “You related to my step-daddy?”
I could see the coiling consideration behind the black glass of his dead gaze. Was it worth being a few minutes late to give me another mind-your-manners? In the end, we must have been on a tight schedule, because he took a handful of my shirt and shoved me toward the door. I let him. If Gloryhadn’t been an issue, maybe I could’ve given him something to think about. I didn’t delude myself into thinking I could take him in a fair fight. He outweighed me by a good fifty pounds of pure muscle, not to mention that I hadn’t been trained by the Army to kill smart-ass red-haired psychics with my bare hands. Nope, a fair fight was out. But then again, who ever said I fought fair? GI Joe was on my list. It might take me a while to get around to him, but I would.
Grocery lists I lost; my shit list was forever.
Outside and trudging through ankle-deep soup, I ended up three buildings over with a headache, a jaw ache, and an utterly trashed pair of formerly black sneakers. Stained and heavy with good, honest red Georgia mud, they were promptly toed off when I passed through the door. By the time I reached Hector, I was one pissed-off prisoner in socked feet. Cooperate? Right, you son of a bitch. You think I’m psychic? Then you just fucking try to prove it.
The room was big and in some ways the very picture of a lecture hall, or so I imagined. I’d never gone to college. How many times had Boyd sneered at the thought of that? More than I could count. Ending up on my own, I could’ve gone. I had the money eventually, but by that time, I was in my mid-twenties, and those kids … Jesus, they seemed so young. So damn young, like a different species. Dump a sharp-toothed alley cat like me in themidst of those sleek, pampered pets, I couldn’t see it. Maybe once white trash wasn’t always white trash. But a freak is ever a freak, and freaks don’t play well with the normal kiddies. It didn’t make that much of a difference in the end. An undernourished sex life left plenty of time for reading. Who knew blue balls would make for a self-educated man?
Allgood and four technicians in white lab coats were conferring around a table loaded down with machinery, some of which looked oddly familiar. I couldn’t put my finger on what exactly had cranked up that uneasy feeling tickling the back of my brain, but something had. With my less-than-loyal and unmuzzled guard dog at my back, I moved down the shallow tile steps to the front row of seats and sat down. At least there was no fold-out desk or number two pencils. Without looking up, Hector dismissed my new best friend. Seconds later, he straightened, took me in, and ordered dispassionately, “Sergeant, stop.” Only a sergeant? I was surprised that his cream hadn’t risen a little further to the top. An amoral, fun-loving sadist like him should be a general by now.
Suddenly, Hector was looming over me with assessing eyes—Charlie’s eyes—studying my face. “What happened?”
Although the question was directed at me, Sergeant Sunshine decided to provide an answer. “He tried to make a run for it. I had to clock him one.”
“Is that so?” This time, Hector made sure I was involved in the conversation. “Mr. Eye, is that what happened?”
Snorting, I stretched my legs out and raised my eyebrows. “Oh, yeah,” I commented sardonically. “I was halfway over the fence before your boy caught me. I was like a frigging gazelle in that mud.”
“And the hell with your sister,” he said quietly.
I tapped a socked toe against the floor and responded with a yawn that automatically had my hand wanting to cradle my screaming jaw. I fisted it and held back. Never let anyone see a weakness: Cane Lake
“Good one.” I gave him a grin, hard and bright. It hurt, but damned if I’d let him see that. “You related to my step-daddy?”
I could see the coiling consideration behind the black glass of his dead gaze. Was it worth being a few minutes late to give me another mind-your-manners? In the end, we must have been on a tight schedule, because he took a handful of my shirt and shoved me toward the door. I let him. If Gloryhadn’t been an issue, maybe I could’ve given him something to think about. I didn’t delude myself into thinking I could take him in a fair fight. He outweighed me by a good fifty pounds of pure muscle, not to mention that I hadn’t been trained by the Army to kill smart-ass red-haired psychics with my bare hands. Nope, a fair fight was out. But then again, who ever said I fought fair? GI Joe was on my list. It might take me a while to get around to him, but I would.
Grocery lists I lost; my shit list was forever.
Outside and trudging through ankle-deep soup, I ended up three buildings over with a headache, a jaw ache, and an utterly trashed pair of formerly black sneakers. Stained and heavy with good, honest red Georgia mud, they were promptly toed off when I passed through the door. By the time I reached Hector, I was one pissed-off prisoner in socked feet. Cooperate? Right, you son of a bitch. You think I’m psychic? Then you just fucking try to prove it.
The room was big and in some ways the very picture of a lecture hall, or so I imagined. I’d never gone to college. How many times had Boyd sneered at the thought of that? More than I could count. Ending up on my own, I could’ve gone. I had the money eventually, but by that time, I was in my mid-twenties, and those kids … Jesus, they seemed so young. So damn young, like a different species. Dump a sharp-toothed alley cat like me in themidst of those sleek, pampered pets, I couldn’t see it. Maybe once white trash wasn’t always white trash. But a freak is ever a freak, and freaks don’t play well with the normal kiddies. It didn’t make that much of a difference in the end. An undernourished sex life left plenty of time for reading. Who knew blue balls would make for a self-educated man?
Allgood and four technicians in white lab coats were conferring around a table loaded down with machinery, some of which looked oddly familiar. I couldn’t put my finger on what exactly had cranked up that uneasy feeling tickling the back of my brain, but something had. With my less-than-loyal and unmuzzled guard dog at my back, I moved down the shallow tile steps to the front row of seats and sat down. At least there was no fold-out desk or number two pencils. Without looking up, Hector dismissed my new best friend. Seconds later, he straightened, took me in, and ordered dispassionately, “Sergeant, stop.” Only a sergeant? I was surprised that his cream hadn’t risen a little further to the top. An amoral, fun-loving sadist like him should be a general by now.
Suddenly, Hector was looming over me with assessing eyes—Charlie’s eyes—studying my face. “What happened?”
Although the question was directed at me, Sergeant Sunshine decided to provide an answer. “He tried to make a run for it. I had to clock him one.”
“Is that so?” This time, Hector made sure I was involved in the conversation. “Mr. Eye, is that what happened?”
Snorting, I stretched my legs out and raised my eyebrows. “Oh, yeah,” I commented sardonically. “I was halfway over the fence before your boy caught me. I was like a frigging gazelle in that mud.”
“And the hell with your sister,” he said quietly.
I tapped a socked toe against the floor and responded with a yawn that automatically had my hand wanting to cradle my screaming jaw. I fisted it and held back. Never let anyone see a weakness: Cane Lake
Similar Books
