“I’m fine, the project’s fine, Drew’s fine, we’re all fine,” Lucas said with an annoyed look on his face. “If you’re not using it, can I borrow your hand truck?”
“Sure, go right ahead. It’s right by my desk,” Griffith said, hoping that Lucas wouldn’t look down at his crotch and see his swollen penis pressing hard against his pants.
Lucas didn’t say anything, then turned sideways and took a wide berth as he scooted past Griffith. Lucas never looked down.
Griffith sighed, then more words arrived on his lips. “Do you need me to help? Did you know I work out regularly and can lift heavy objects? You should be careful with your back. Be sure to lift with your legs; hernias can happen easily.”
Lucas still didn’t respond as he walked to Griffith’s desk.
Griffith waited until Lucas put his hand on the dolly before he glanced down at his pants. His erection seemed smaller, but it was still noticeable. Keep talking, he told himself. Keep Lucas focused on something else. He pushed the soldering gun and resin near Lucas’ face.
“I’ll bet you’re wondering what I’m doing with these. It’s a funny story, really. Would you like to hear it?”
Lucas ducked his shoulder as he brushed past Griffith, pushing the dolly toward the lab door.
Griffith tossed the soldering gun and resin onto his desk. “Do you want me to get the door for you?”
Lucas turned and held out his hands while standing near the exit. “Sorry, but this delivery belongs to Dr. Kleezebee and contains classified material. Nobody else is allowed within twenty feet of it.”
“Okay, I understand. Take your time. Just return the dolly when you’re done. I won’t need it for at least a week. When you stop by again, we should go to lunch—”
Lucas opened the door and pushed the hand truck outside into the hall. The door closed behind him.
Damn, that was close, Griffith thought, feeling his penis finally go limp. He stood next to the lab door his with ear pressed against it. He could hear Drew Ramsay laughing in the hallway.
“Glad you’re enjoying yourself,” Lucas told his brother. “Now let’s get this shit inside already.”
11
Masago turned the steering wheel of the Tumbler hard to the left, then jammed on the brake, sending the all-terrain vehicle sliding sideways through the dirt until it came to a stop, just inches short of a twenty-foot-tall, four-fingered saguaro cactus. Her heart was pounding, pushing her endorphins into overdrive.
“Do you have any idea how much one of them weighs?” Lucas asked with his hands gripping the safety bar.
“Before or after the rainy season?” she replied, giving him a smirk.
“We could have been crushed!”
“What? You don’t like my driving?”
“Not without downing a six pack first.”
“We’re here, aren’t we? And in record time.”
“I didn’t know we were in a race.”
She took her helmet off and put it on the dash, then shook her head to set her flowing hair free as it draped around the contours of her neck. She smiled at him.
“You gotta admit, that was one kick-ass ride.”
“For you, maybe.”
“You need to lighten up. Have a little fun once in a while. Besides, you were wearing a helmet.”
“Okay, Danica in the number ten car,” Lucas said, breathing heavily. He let go of the safety bar and took the helmet off, tossing it in the back. “But I’m gonna need a minute.”
“You really need to find your big-girl panties,” she said, appreciating the comparison to NASCAR driver Danica Patrick.
“That’s easy for you to say. You were the one driving. I was totally at the mercy of a crazy person. I swear to God I saw my life flash before my eyes—twice.”
Masago rolled her eyes, then pointed to a stand of brush twenty feet ahead. “That’s where I found you. Under those bushes.”
Lucas didn’t respond. He didn’t move, either.
“Are you just going to sit there? Or do you wanna go find your glasses?”
Lucas looked to his right, leaned forward, then sat back in the seat before turning to Masago. “Can you pull up a bit? I don’t think I can open my door. Not without getting a face full of spines.”
Masago released the brake, letting the vehicle idle forward ten feet until it was clear of the saguaro. “Far enough?”
“That’ll do,” Lucas said, releasing the seatbelt from its latch. The retractor drew the belt away and back to its home position. He opened the door and got out of the vehicle, then grabbed his makeshift crutch from the storage area behind the seats. “I’m not sure my leg can make the climb.”
“I can,” she said, assessing the pain level in her thigh. It was manageable. “What do they look like?”
“Super high tech. You’ll know it when you see it. It’s loaded with electronics along the frame.”
“When was the last time you remember having them?”
“At the top. They were in my hand before I jumped. I must’ve dropped them on the way down.”
She looked up at the cliff, wondering how he’d survived. “That’s one hell of a fall.”
“I managed to slide part of the way until my foot caught a rock and sent me flying. That’s when my knee decided to pick a fight with the cactus.”
“And lose, badly.”
“Thanks for the reminder.”
“Anytime,” she said, surveying the wall of dirt and rock before her. “I hope you’re not in a hurry, because this is gonna take a while. They could be anywhere.”
“It shouldn’t take that long. Not with gravity, velocity, and acceleration working in our favor. It’s just mathematics, really, especially since several variables are known, such as my starting point and my ending point, each with a velocity of zero and, of course, my body mass. If I calculate gravitational acceleration in relation to the distance traveled, I should be able to predict several probable landing spots. Of course, that’s assuming I can accurately factor in the unevenness of the terrain, air resistance, the prevailing winds at the time, and—”
Masago grabbed his shoulder. “Never mind all that. How about we just find them the old-fashioned way? With feet and eyes, okay?”
“Sure. But I was just trying to—”
“Show off?”
“No, limit the search area with a little applied physics.”
“You really shouldn’t worry about impressing me. I already know how smart you are.”
“But I wasn’t trying to—”
“Yes, you were.”
Lucas paused, then sighed.
“You and your bad knee stay down here and search, and I’ll work my way up to the top. Hopefully I can retrace your steps. I’m sure there are plenty of tracks to follow.”
“That’s an understatement. Just look for the out-of-control skid marks and the pissed-off cactus. And be careful. I’d hate to lose my chauffeur.”
“So you do appreciate my driving skills?”
“I don’t know if I’d go that far.”
Masago smiled, then walked to the rear of the car and opened the latch to the cargo area. She dug through the supplies stuffed inside until she found a rock climbing harness. She clipped it around her waist and hips before securing the leg loops. She grabbed her stash of spring-loaded metal carabiners and fastened the oval rings to the side of her harness, then found her rope anchors and a few other essentials, including a two-hundred-foot coil of braided, blue and white climbing rope. One arm went through the center of the rope before she tucked it around her shoulder.
She shut the trunk and went to the base of the mountain, trying to decide which climbing path would be safest. The first hundred feet looked doable, if she used the staggered formations of rock as hand and footholds. After that, the sheer rock face was waiting for her. A challenging task, indeed.
Her left hand grabbed the front of a protruding edge above her while her right foot found its way into a gap between two boulde
rs about waist-high. She leveraged herself up, repeating the same maneuver with the other hand and foot. She looked down at Lucas. He was standing directly under her with his hands raised. His palms were just inches under her butt.
“What are you trying to do? Cop a feel?”
“No,” he said, yanking his hands back. His cheeks blushed and he looked petrified. “I was just making sure—”
“Relax, I was just kidding about the whole cop a feel thing.”
“It didn’t sound like you were kidding.”
“I was. But seriously, Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself. I do this type of thing all the time.”
“I know. It’s just that I’m not used to a girl who can—”
“Kick your ass?”
“No, take care of herself like you can. I don’t meet a lot of women like you.”
“I’m gonna take that as a compliment,” she said, climbing up another level.
“It was.”
“Good, ’cause otherwise, I’d have to—”
“Kick my ass?”
“No, prove myself. I know how hard it is for a man to accept a woman with skills.”
“Trust me, I think I know what you’re capable of.”
Masago appreciated the vote of confidence, but she didn’t like the direction of the conversation. “Don’t you have some searching to do?”
“Wow, you’re one of those girls,” Lucas said with a serious look on his face.
“What does that mean?”
“It means you don’t like compliments, even though you were totally fishing for one.”
Masago didn’t know what to say.
“Or was it because the compliment came from a man?” Lucas said with a touch of heat in his words.
Masago kept her temper in check. “Maybe you should start at the spot where you landed.”
“Look, I get it. Your father was impossible to please. He wanted another son and was never satisfied with you. But that’s no reason to take it out on me. I’m not like that.”
His attitude suggested otherwise, but she let it go. The pain in his knee was probably pushing his temper past the redline. “I’d suggest working your way out from the center point in concentric circles. It’s the most efficient search pattern.”
“Fine. Have it your way. But don’t lump me into the same class as every other male on this planet,” Lucas said, shaking his head. He wedged the modified hunting bow under his arm and hobbled his way to the left, mumbling something under his breath she couldn’t hear.
Lucas’ reaction stirred something inside her. It was a vision of her father, packing for his hunting trip. She closed her eyes, allowing the memory to fill the video screen in her mind.
Her father zipped his backpack shut, then bent down and kissed her on the cheek. He pulled away, taking his warmth and companionship with him.
“I will be back in two days,” he said, cupping a hand under her quivering chin. He slung the backpack over his shoulder, turned, and walked out the door.
She remembered the moment like it was yesterday. Her heart desperately wanted to call out to him—to tell him to be careful—to tell him that she loved him. But her brain took control, evaporating the words before they’d made it to her lips. The suffocating darkness took hold of her as she listened to the echo of her father’s footsteps growing weaker and weaker, until they disappeared. That painful goodbye was the last time she saw him.
Masago opened her eyes and doubled her grip on the mountain, fighting to contain the pressure building inside her heart. She failed for an instant, allowing a single tear to flow from her eye before she regained control. She brushed the tear away with her shoulder, then sniffed once before looking down at her hobbling friend.
He was facing the other way, busy moving dirt around with his makeshift crutch.
She turned the memory of her father off and took a deep breath before continuing her climb. Her moment of weakness went unnoticed.
12
Randol Larson tipped the cocktail waitress, who was wearing a skimpy, neon-green-colored bikini and took a sip of his first beer of the day. He watched her tiny, firm butt cheeks sashay from side to side as she walked under the glow of the overhead black lights. He couldn’t decide if the baby-faced server would be a good choice for a table dance. It was going to cost him more than double the going rate if he wanted that kind of personal attention from a rookie waitress instead of one of the club’s established pole dancers. She couldn’t have been more than nineteen and was stunning and tight, the perfect combination.
He took a moment to admire the table napkin’s black and white logo before putting his beer on it. It was a hand-drawn caricature of an eye-patch-wearing pirate, holding a beer in one hand and a gun in the other. There were two buxom beauties on either side of him, wearing only a smile and oversized chests. A deadly symmetry, but the theme fit the club.
The owners of Black Beard’s knew how to rob people and they did it with fake boobs, ear-pounding rap music, and ice-cold beer. An expensive proposition, but Larson accepted the illusion of it all. It was his only escape from the endless hours of bureaucratic bullshit that defined his legal position on campus.
He wasn’t allowed to look twice at the bright-eyed coeds that blanketed the campus every day, let alone touch them. But here, at this secluded, members-only club, he was free to do what he pleased, as long as he brought sufficient cash to back it up.
When his lunch break ran out—or his money—he would have to return to reality. But for the next ninety minutes he was happy to be in the one place where he could be anyone he desired.
For today’s visit, he was Dirk, a former hockey player for the Central Hockey League. He knew the girls would be drawn to his alter ego as long as he was stuffing tens down the front of their G-strings. Like most of the regulars, he had his favorite dancers, each of whom relied on his frequent visits to pay their rent. But since this was the last visit before he and his family left town for good, he decided to splurge on the beautiful, blonde waitress who’d been teasing him for months.
Time to go out in style.
He waited until the current song ended, chugged his beer, and tipped the forty-something dancer on stage who was covered in racist tattoos. He whirled to the left and headed for the service end of the bar where he planned to convince the server to join him for an hour-long session in the VIP room.
However, his cell phone buzzed before he could reach her. He couldn’t remember the last time his phone worked inside the club. The building’s metal roofing made it damn near impossible to get a decent signal, but for some reason, today the phone was working, with two bars of signal strength.
The screen said the call was from his wife, Nora. He couldn’t answer the call, not with the sounds of pussy and alcohol permeating in the background, not to mention the ear-blasting music that would soon start for the next dancer due on stage.
The DJ’s voice rang out across the club’s speakers. “Next up on stage one is the gorgeous Paige. Jasmine, you’re up in two. Paris, stand by.”
Larson made a sharp right, heading up the stairs. A tuxedo-clad bouncer was working the front door, but never made eye contact with him as he ran outside to catch the call before his wife was sent to voice mail.
“Hi, honey. What’s up?” he said after taking in a deep breath to load his lungs with air.
“Where are you?” she asked in her dominating New York accent. “You sound winded.”
His mind froze for a moment until he decided how to handle her probing question. “What’s wrong, baby?”
“Why do you think something is wrong?”
“Because you never call me while I’m working. We had an agreement, remember?”
“Yes, I remember.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
“President Lathrop from the university just called. He’s looking for you. Where are you?”
“Dr. Lathrop? Why?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t say. But it soun
ded urgent. Where are you?”
“I stopped for lunch.”
“Why are you breathing so hard?” she asked in a skeptical tone.
“It’s noisy in the restaurant. I ran outside to take your call.”
“Did you break your promise to me and the kids?”
“No, baby, just a root beer and a patty melt. No alcohol. I’m a man of my word.”
“Why didn’t Dr. Lathrop call your cell? Why did he call the house?”
“I don’t know. My phone was sitting right next to me, but it never rang. Maybe he couldn’t get through. The cell towers might have been busy.”
“Then he probably left you a voice mail.”
“Thanks, honey. I’ll check.”
“The Stantons are joining us tonight. Texas Road House at eight.”
“I haven’t forgotten.”
“Don’t embarrass me by being late again.”
“I’ve cleared my schedule tonight. I’m all yours.”
“That’s good to hear. Your mother is watching the children, and you know how hard it is to get her to babysit. We never get a chance to go out and I don’t want to miss this opportunity. So you’d better be there.”
“I will. I promise.”
“Love you.”
“Me, too. Bye.”
He stared at the front door of the club, deciding whether to call Dr. Lathrop back and miss the rest of his much-needed playtime, or go back inside the club and see what kind of mileage his wad of cash would generate with the gorgeous young waitress.
It was a given she’d go topless and grind her ninety-five-pound figure on his lap, but would she let him touch her and possibly more? Not knowing how far she’d go made the chase even more memorable; so did a dancer who liked to break the rules and get freaky in the back room.
He had his favorite booth in the secluded VIP room where there was no coverage from the ceiling-mounted, night-vision cameras. He hoped it would be available, allowing him to fully enjoy the newness of her scent while she worked her magic on his ego. He’d never get this chance again, not with the planned exodus from Tucson looming in his future.
Reversion (The Narrows of Time Series Book 3) Page 10