Spy High

by Diane Henders

  Pulse pounding, I stepped casually away from the workbench and crossed to the door.

  “Hey, Skidmark!” I yelled. “Are you around?”

  I hadn’t expected an answer, but I strode in the direction the tracker had indicated, calling out again. “Hey, Skidmark!”

  Standing in the forest where I thought Orion should have been, I turned in a slow circle, seeing nothing but trees and ferns.

  Okay, he was definitely avoiding me.

  I let out a few more yells while I circled the clearing, eyes peeled for any movement in the forest.

  Nothing.

  When I returned to the garage and surreptitiously checked the tracker again, the dot glowed in the same location.

  What the hell? Why would Orion stand there watching and listening but evade me when I approached?

  I stood undecided for a few moments before giving a mental shrug. It would make him suspicious if I kept returning to the place where he’d just been. If he wanted to show himself, he would. Meanwhile, I’d better look as though I had some reason to be here.

  I picked up the ratchet and got to work on the engine, making sure I faced the door. Even so, the back of my neck prickled with the feeling of being watched.

  A couple of hours later I’d almost finished stripping the engine and Skidmark still hadn’t appeared. I eyed the transmission bolts and decided against dropping the tranny by myself. It would be an easier job with two people, and anyway, there was just enough time to grab lunch before hiking out to meet Arnie.

  I scrubbed off as much grease as I could and retrieved my jacket before heading for the kitchen.

  Striding out the commune gates at noon, I stretched my arms above my head, easing muscles that had stiffened while I bent over the engine. The sun was warm on my back and the spicy scent of cedar wafted on a gentle breeze.

  For the first time in days I felt my shoulders relax. No run-ins with Ratboy; no uncomfortable encounters with Orion; and Nichele and Moonbeam and Karma were all safe.

  As far as I knew, anyway.

  Worry niggled at the back of my mind, but I tamped it down. I might as well just enjoy the peace. It likely wouldn’t last.

  I had only walked a mile or so when a burly figure appeared from around a bend in the road. Clad in faded jeans and T-shirt with a black leather jacket swinging from the pack on his back, he walked with the economical rhythm of a man accustomed to long marches. I hurried forward, smiling.

  As the gap narrowed between us, I admired the flex and release of his bulky muscles with each stride. Soon I was near enough to make out his features, his beard and moustache failing to camouflage the long-ago-broken bones that formed a fearsome face belied by the twinkle in his eyes.

  “Hey, darlin’!” He held out his arms and I dove into his embrace.

  “Oh, Arnie, it’s so good to see you!” I planted a big smacking kiss on his lips before hugging him close, reveling in the feel of his hard bulk against me. “God, you feel good!”

  “So do you, darlin’.” He held me with his characteristic gentleness, and I snuggled safely into arms powerful enough to crush my ribcage.

  “Mm. Come here,” he murmured. He tilted my chin up and his lips met mine in a kiss that weakened my knees.

  Slowly, softly, he tasted my lips as though relearning every contour. A small moan escaped me at the feather-light brush of his tongue, and desire coiled low in my belly. Pulling me closer, he continued his unhurried exploration, his tongue seducing mine while his palms traced down my back to curve around my ass.

  I pressed against the stiffening bulge in his jeans, opening my legs to welcome his hands. The friction of our zippers sent sparkles of sensation directly to nerve endings that were already begging for his touch.

  My hands roamed greedily over the hard planes of his chest, seeking down over solid abs toward the button of his jeans. His dexterous musician’s fingers stroked a line of heat between my legs and I whimpered with need and rubbed the hard ridge straining his faded denim.

  “Jesus, darlin’,” he rasped against my lips. “If ya keep doin’ that I’m gonna take ya right here in the middle a’ the road.”

  “I could wait long enough to get to the side of the road.” My voice came out hoarse and breathless. “Maybe a few feet into the woods. But not much more.”

  “Slow down, darlin’.” His hands ceased their mind-melting work and slid up to my waist. “I wanna wait ‘til I can take my time an’ do ya right.”

  “Just a quickie to take the edge off,” I coaxed. “I know you’ll be ready to go again by the time we get to my tent.” I dipped a finger inside the waistband of his jeans to caress the hot hardness pressing up to meet me.

  “Ya sure, Aydan?” He trapped my hand against him and cast an assessing look around us. “Are we safe here? Any surveillance?”

  I jerked my chin in the direction of Skidmark’s bluff. “There’s a viewpoint up there but this part of the road is hidden by the trees. And I’ve never met anybody else on foot out here.” I returned my attention to the job at hand, stroking lightly. “Besides, you can’t hike any farther with a hard-on like this. You’ll get all chafed.”

  He growled low in his throat, giving me a toothy grin. “Well, where ya goin’ in the woods all by yourself, little girl?”

  I made big innocent eyes up at him. “My, what big…” I traced circles with my fingertip. “…teeth you have.” He growled again, and I batted my eyelashes. “I’m going to my grandmother’s house. Can you take me?”

  “Darlin’, I can take ya any way ya want.” His mouth captured mine, his hands clamping on my ass to pull me to his hardness. I ground against him while he kissed me senseless before pulling away just far enough to make for the forest beside the road.

  Pressed together, we stumbled into the undergrowth far enough to be concealed from the road.

  “Have you got a condom handy?” I gasped, already pushing my jeans down.

  He shoved a hand in his pocket. “Hell yeah. Figured I might need one in a hurry…”

  I bent to prop my elbows on a stump, legs wide.

  He stilled and his hot gaze devoured me. “Jesus, darlin’, ya make me glad I got a photographic memory. I’m gonna enjoy this one for a helluva long time.”

  “Enjoy it now,” I urged.

  He grinned and reached slowly for his zipper, teasing me with his unhurried movements.

  Trembling with need, I watched over my shoulder while he rolled on the condom and stepped behind me. His hands glided down my back and over my ass, rounding my thighs and moving up to stroke exactly the right spot.

  My tremors redoubled as tingling ripples of pleasure rolled through me. “Oh, God, Arnie…”

  A moan burst from my lips when he slid slowly into me, then withdrew almost all the way before pressing in again, setting a leisurely rhythm of long sensuous strokes while his skillful fingers worked their magic.

  Rosy haze obscured my vision and I let my eyelids fall shut, sensation expanding to possess my entire being. Little cries fell from my lips, my hips rocking back to meet him again and again while his fingers drove me to the brink of glorious madness. I quivered on the edge for a timeless instant, pleasure flooding every nerve before coiling back to implode into waves of ecstasy.

  My body spasmed around him and he gripped my hips, accelerating to short hard thrusts that shattered me into another blinding orgasm, his panting mingling with my mindless cries.

  He let out a raw-throated groan and slammed home one last time, iron muscles straining for a long trembling moment. Then his breath left him in a gasp and he bent over my back, wrapping his arms around my waist.

  We straightened slowly and stood locked together panting and swaying gently, his face buried in my hair, his arms tight around me.

  As the heaving of his chest slowed, he turned his head to strew feather-light whisker kisses across my jaw. I sighed pure bliss and leaned into him, wrapped in his tender strength.

  After a few minutes he gently disen
gaged himself and rolled the used condom into the tissue he’d taken from his jacket pocket.

  I pulled up my jeans. “You must have been a Boy Scout.”

  He grinned as he zipped up. “Always prepared. Ya fixed that chafin’ problem pretty good. Thanks, darlin’.”

  “My pleasure…” A last stray ripple of orgasm shook me and I sucked in a breath, my eyes slipping half-closed. “Oh my God, was it ever my pleasure! I don’t think I can walk.” I propped myself against him, sliding my arms around his midsection. “Speaking of walking and chafing, I can’t believe you went commando in jeans for a twelve-mile hike. Owie.”

  Hellhound shook his head, grinning. “Nah. I rented a street-an’-trail bike an’ rode it all but the last coupla miles. I stashed it off in the woods in case we needed wheels.”

  I laughed. “Okay, now your badass image is completely destroyed. You voluntarily rode a little street-and-trail instead of a Harley?”

  “Yeah, how fuckin’ sad is that? Figured I better get somethin’ a little more manoeuvrable than a hog, though. Didn’t know what the situation was here.” He planted a whiskery kiss on my forehead. “Can ya walk yet, darlin’?”

  “If I have to.”

  I released him reluctantly and staggered for the road on rubbery legs. Hand in hand, we turned to meander toward the commune gates, the warmth of afterglow intensifying my enjoyment of the sunshine and birdsong.

  “So fill me in,” Hellhound said. “Gimme the whole thing, start to finish.”

  “Okay…” I let out a long breath and reached up to steal a kiss before laying out the events to date.

  When I was finished, he let out a thoughtful “Hmph” and we walked in silence while I watched the wheels turn inside that incisive mind.

  “So Skidmark’s been here pretty much as long as Stemp’s folks,” he said after a few moments. “I can’t see him as a big threat unless somethin’s changed recently. But I don’t like the timin’ of this Orion guy showin’ up at the same time you did. An’ if he’s gettin’ chummy with Ratboy, that ain’t good.” He frowned down at me. “When ya were makin’ out with Orion, how did it feel?”

  Heat rose in my cheeks. “Well, he’s not as good a kisser as you…”

  Hellhound chuckled. “Thanks, darlin’, but that ain’t what I meant. Ya can tell me a sexy bedtime story later if ya like, but what I’m askin’ is how he acted.” His smile dissolved, his gaze searching my face. “Was he rough with ya? Did he try to push ya into it?”

  “No, nothing like that.” I grimaced. “Either he was a really good actor or those restraints weren’t for me because it was… he wasn’t rough…” My mind drifted back to Orion’s hot lips and butterfly kisses. “Not domineering, just…” I trailed off into a frustrated shrug. “I don’t know; just normal. He seemed really disappointed when I shut him down, but he didn’t push me. Wouldn’t you think I’d be able to sense if he had something bad planned?”

  Hellhound blew out a short breath, his expression troubled. “I dunno. You’d think so. I know ya don’t trust anybody, so I can’t see ya missin’ somethin’ like that.”

  “Well, I was getting pretty desperate to get laid by then.” I grinned and bumped my shoulder against his.

  He laughed. “No shit. I thought ya were gonna eat me alive.”

  “I’ll do that later,” I purred.

  “Darlin’, I really missed ya,” he said, grinning. “But before we get to the good stuff, gimme the grand tour. I wanna get the lay a’ the land.”

  “Okay, we’ll start at Skidmark’s garage.” I peeked at my tracking unit, eyeing the red dot. “Looks like Orion’s still there,” I added. “Maybe you’ll get to meet all three of my suspects at the same time.” I shot a look at Hellhound’s backpack. “Do you want to drop that off at my tent first?”

  Hellhound shrugged, the pack rising and falling on his powerful shoulders as if it was weightless. “Whatever. If the garage is on the way, let’s go there first.”

  Chapter 25

  When we strode into the gravelled clearing, Skidmark was back in his chair beside the garage. As we approached, he lovingly inhaled the last molecules of smoke from a roach so tiny I couldn’t believe the embers weren’t burning his skin.

  Then again, between the yellowed calluses on his fingers and the marijuana high, it was probably a matter of ‘no sense, no feeling’.

  He squinted at us for a moment before pinching out the butt and slowly lowering the front legs of the chair to the ground.

  “Christ on a crutch, that is one ugly dude,” he mumbled. “Girlie, don’t tell me you’re getting it on with Frankendude here, or it’ll break my heart.”

  I slid my arms around Hellhound and scowled at Skidmark. “You better believe I am. Watch your mouth, old man.”

  “Huh.” Skidmark transferred his bleary gaze to Hellhound. “So she likes it rough and ugly, eh? I should’ve known. Tough bitches like her just want to be put in their place.”

  Hellhound gently disengaged himself from my grip and stepped closer to loom over Skidmark. “How d’ya feel about smokin’ your next joint through your asshole?” Hellhound inquired mildly. “’Cause that’s how far down your throat I’m gonna shove it if ya make another crack like that.”

  Skidmark took in Hellhound’s battle-scarred face and bulging arms sleeved in tattoos before raising both hands in a placating gesture. “Be cool, man. Just rattling your cage.”

  Hellhound regarded him expressionlessly for a few moments before replying, “If ya like livin’, ya better be careful whose cage ya rattle.”

  Skidmark blinked and mumbled, “Hey, it’s cool. I’m picking up what you’re laying down, bro.” He tipped his chair back again and his drowsy gaze tracked over to me. “You gonna introduce us, girlie?”

  I scowled at him before turning back to Hellhound. “Hellhound…” I jerked my chin at the older man. “Skidmark.” I took Hellhound’s arm. “Let’s go.”

  Skidmark’s voice stopped us. “Hellbound?”

  Hellhound’s mouth twisted in a wry grimace. “Prob’ly.”

  “Hellhound, not hellbound,” I corrected. I reached up to brush a kiss across Hellhound’s long-ago-broken cheekbone and whispered, “You’ve done your time in hell.”

  Apparently Skidmark’s hearing was better than he’d let on. His eyes sharpened to a shrewd glint as he eyed Hellhound. “How many?” he asked abruptly.

  “What?” Hellhound’s brows drew together.

  “How many kills?”

  Hellhound went expressionless again, crossing his arms over his chest. “What’re ya yappin’ about, ol’ man?”

  Skidmark nodded slowly, still studying him. “You know exactly how many, don’t you?”

  Hellhound regarded the older man with narrowed eyes and said nothing.

  The silence stretched until Skidmark nodded again and pulled out his baggie to roll a joint with his usual reverent concentration. Giving the paper a final twist, he offered the finished product to Hellhound, who shook his head.

  Skidmark cupped his hand around the joint and the flare of the match illuminated his weathered features as he lit up, dragging luxuriously.

  The smoke stayed gone a long time before trickling out in wisps as he spoke, addressing me with one eye on Hellhound. “There’s three kinds of guys in the world. First kind won’t kill no matter what. Call it principles or cowardice, it don’t matter in the end. The second kind, he’ll kill and be proud of his body count. Wackos, those guys. Kill ‘em all and let God sort ‘em out. The third kind, now…” He took another drag and shot a significant glance at Hellhound. “He’ll kill in the line of duty, but he knows he’s going to hell for it. And he does it anyway ‘cause it’s gotta be done. That’s a brave man.”

  He leaned back, sucking in another lungful of smoke. “You know exactly how many, don’t you?” he repeated.

  Hellhound held Skidmark’s gaze, poker-faced.

  Skidmark nodded. “Can always tell; it’s in the eyes. Sniper, right?”

>   For a barely-noticeable instant Hellhound stood as though carved from stone. Then he chuckled and shook his head. “Ya got a hell of an imagination, ol’ man.”

  “Yeah.” Skidmark gave him a crooked grin. “You wanna know how I know? Snipers’re the only guys that know for sure. Us infantry grunts, we never really know how many.” Skidmark toasted Hellhound with his half-smoked reefer. “See you in hell, son. Gonna be a good time; all my buddies’ll be there.”

  I slid my hand into Hellhound’s, lacing my fingers through his rigid ones. “I don’t believe in hell. And even if there is such a place, he’s not going there.”

  Skidmark wheezed out a laugh. “There sure as hell is a hell.”

  I squeezed Hellhound’s hand tighter. “Hell is created by people, for people. And you don’t have to die to go there.”

  Skidmark eyed me thoughtfully, his joint momentarily forgotten. “Girlie, you just said a mouthful,” he said at last. “How many for you?”

  I drew a breath to hide my surge of adrenaline. “You’re nuts. And we have to go. I’ll be back later to help you with the truck.”

  He waved the joint vaguely. “Tomorrow.”

  I led Hellhound down the path toward the bench. Just before we rounded the corner I glanced back to see Skidmark still propped against the garage, staring into eternity with heavy-lidded eyes while the smoke curled around his shaggy head.

  “What the hell?” Hellhound muttered as we strode down the path. “How did he know?”

  “He didn’t. He’s always throwing shit against the wall to see if any of it sticks. So far he’s called me a male transvestite and a lesbian. Like he said, he was just trying to rattle your cage.”

  “Well, it worked,” Hellhound said grimly. “If he’s a vet he mighta noticed my PPCLI tattoo so he’d peg me for infantry, but nobody oughta be able to guess that close on the snipin’. He knows somethin’.”

  I hid my clutch of fear in a level tone. “I don’t know how he could. He’s never met you before and I’ve never mentioned you to him. And he wouldn’t have any way to access your service records even if he did know your name in advance. I’m pretty sure he was just flapping his gums.”