Random & Rare

by Cat Porter

  “I made a life that works for me by ignoring my shadow. I’m not even sure I fucking have one anymore.” My fingertips traced over the snake tattoo circling my lower waist. “Bite before you get bitten,” I murmured.

  “Dig—”

  “But with you in the equation, that just doesn’t work. And it’s not fair to you. I want it to work real bad. So fucking bad. Why do you think I never came by to party at your sister’s house all those years ago? ’Cause I knew I’d get hooked on you, and that wouldn’t be good for either of us. So, I stayed away, but you stayed in here.” I tapped on the side of my head. “And when I finally had you—in my hands, in my bed, on my bike—I felt like maybe, just maybe, it was my turn. Finally, something good just for me.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me? We’ve been together for years, Dig! Why?”

  “For that look in your eyes right now. That pity, that fucking sympathy, that horror.”

  “That’s not what I’m feeling!” She sat up in Boner’s embrace, wiping at her face.

  I let out a hiss of air. “Look at you, baby.”

  She pushed away from Boner and crawled on the bed in front of me, the sheet dragging down her body, her eyes full of water, her face red and wet. “This is my respect and belief in you. This is my deep fucking admiration.” She wiped at her nose with the back of her hand. “I believe in you—Jake Pence, Dig Quillen. I believe in you. I believe that you would protect me with your life. I believe in the goodness that you keep squashed so damn deep inside. I believe in your loyalty and your smarts and generosity. I believe in you, and most of all, I believe in your love for me. That’s what this is.” She pointed to her face. “That’s what gets us by, keeps us sane. That’s all that matters. Can’t you see that?”

  I peered into those savage eyes, the stiff lines of her face and body adamant, and it zapped right through me and lit up my soul for a few brilliant seconds like forked Dakota lightning flashing against a black sky.

  This is faith. This is what love is.

  “What if I can’t protect you? I couldn’t protect Wreck. That man used to protect me, watch out for me and for Miller. I fucked that up. I broke that chain. Now we’ve got the baby coming. I got to be able to keep you safe.”

  “That’s why you didn’t want a baby?”

  “Yeah, but I’d had enough of keeping that shit tight. I wanted a piece of the dream, too.”

  Her hands gripped my arms. “Yes, that’s right. We’re having that dream come true together.”

  “Oh, baby, look around you. Wreck is gone. His neck was practically ripped clean through. He was nearly empty of blood by the time the ambulance showed. And over what?” A laugh escaped my throat. “Fucking nothin’. That’s what. No matter what we do, how we live our lives, this shit happens. God knows if we’ll ever see or hear from Miller again.”

  “What are you saying?” She raised her voice, her eyes lit up. “Should we go run and hide in a cave somewhere? Is that what you’re saying?”

  “No. No. The beauty of it is that we aren’t ever going to be immune from it. At least here, with the club, I found a way to live by my rules, my way. I can fight back better, stronger, than if I were living my mom and dad’s life. I don’t need a Caddy or a Mercedes to feel alive. Just my bike with you on it.” I held her watery gaze. “None of it makes sense otherwise, Grace. I didn’t think I’d ever get married, ever want a kid. But here we fucking are. I still fight it half the time and embrace it the rest.”

  “I know you do,” she whispered.

  My head tipped back, my body sagged. “You’re in my bones, Grace. Can’t stand straight without you, baby. Can’t.”

  “Me either.”

  “Christ,” Boner muttered.

  Grace crawled closer to me and I dropped my head in her chest. Her arms wrapped around me, and my breath snagged. Boner stood up, tossing the twisted sheet he was still holding on to on the floor. His hand passed over my head, tugging my hair as he left the room. The door closed with a firm thud.

  I buried my face in her throat, my hands sliding around her waist. “You on for that ride, baby?”

  She clutched my neck, my shoulders. “I’ve always been on.”

  “YOU MOLE? HOW’D YOU GET MY NUMBER?”

  “Friend of a friend of a friend.” The stringy kid standing in his motel room doorway laughed. He had the jitters, his eyes were bugging out of his head, and he smelled bad from his stained blue hoodie down to his torn jeans. “I’m a little far from home and didn’t pack my suitcase right.” He cackled through his nose as he bounced from foot to foot.

  “Yeah. What’s it gonna be?” I didn’t have time for this shit, but a sale was a sale. I was on my way home when I got his call, and I could spare the time. We were just outside of Deadwood. Wouldn’t take long. This shit never did.

  “Whatever you got, man. Should’ve planned ahead better. But you know how it goes, right?” He stared at my patches.

  I eyed him, and he averted his gaze. “What kind of money you got to spend? Let’s start there, huh?”

  He shoved a hand in his back pocket and came out with a twenty-dollar bill. His forehead creased, and he bumped the glasses on his face higher. I caught a flash of red from a familiar tattoo on his arm.

  I jerked my chin at him. “You ain’t a Seed. What the fuck?”

  He shook his head as he searched for more money in his other pockets. “Nah, my uncle is. Me and my brother are patching in.”

  “Oh, yeah?” As if. “You a prospect?”

  “Uh, soon. We got us the inside track.”

  Right.

  This kid?

  Thick eyeglasses over small-set eyes, acne spattered on his face, wiry muscles, and greasy spiky hair along with those stupid fucking plastic gauges in his ears. Real Demon Seed material.

  “Never seen you around before. I don’t forget a face.”

  His eyebrows jumped. “Keeping it on the QT, bro.”

  “Don’t call me bro. I ain’t your bro. And by the way, Mr. QT, having that tat on you ain’t right. You’re gonna get yourself in big trouble.”

  Whoever his uncle was, he had a clusterfuck in the making on his hands.

  Time to get this done. “What’s it going to be? We talking twenty?”

  “Well, ten. I need some gas money.” He snorted and scratched his middle, hitching up his T-shirt.

  “You got me up here for a ten-buck deal? Are you shittin’ me? I stopped dealing with punks like you a long, long time ago.”

  I shook my head and stepped back.

  A muffled yelping came from behind him. He blinked rapidly, and his lips flattened. A moan. A thud against the wall—once, twice, three times. Another moan. My spine stiffened, my muscles tensed. My eyes slid to his.

  “I, uh…got something you might be interested in, in place of extra cash.” He pushed the door open further and motioned me inside his room with a jerk of his head.

  I took a step forward.

  There, on his bed, was a woman.

  No, a girl.

  A young teenage girl, raw terror on her round face. Her mouth was bound with tape, and her eyes were red and puffy. One eye was almost swollen shut. Traces of makeup were smeared on her blotchy skin. Her yellow T-shirt was ripped up the middle, her bare breasts on display. Otherwise, she was naked. Her entire body shook under my stare, even her arms and legs, which were tied to the bedposts. Her head rose slightly as I stepped closer to the bed. She froze for an instant and shook again.

  “Why don’t you have a piece of that while I set myself up?” Mole let out a snort. “I’m gonna need energy, ya know?”

  My breath stalled, and my spine knotted.

  “Be my guest, man. Have a piece. Have at it. You want, we could do her together. I’m up for that.”

  The girl’s one eye widened. She struggled to kick her legs, legs covered in red scratches and bruises. She gave up and slumped back onto the mattress once more, her face covered in sweat, her strawberry-blonde hair in a knotty sea ov
er her head, her chest heaving. Mole kicked two empty pizza boxes to the side of the room.

  I stepped slowly toward the bed, toward the girl, toward the sacrifice.

  “She sucked my dick real nice for breakfast. That’s my kinda room service, right? Long as she’s got my gun at her head, that is. Get on, man. Give her a go. I just fucked her tits. Hey, you know, if you want, you can fuck her first. Nothing like popping a tight cherry. I was saving that for after this, but I can fuck her ass, no problem. That’ll do me real good. Maybe you could, um…give me another bag for that, huh? That good for you? We could do that. What do they call it when you swap? Bartering? Yeah, let’s barter. We’re doing business here, right? Awesome.”

  I heard nothing.

  I heard everything—her shuddering body, the rope twisting on the headboard, her feet thumping on the mattress, her choppy and harsh breaths, an eighteen-wheeler thundering down the highway.

  I stared down at her bruised and bitten body, the soiled sheets. I inhaled the stink of piss, cum, sweat, fear. My veins surged with adrenaline. My eyes went to his.

  He raised himself up on his toes. “Are we cool?”

  A smile flickered over my lips. I held out a small plastic baggie filled with his candy of choice.

  He seized it.

  Mole flung himself in a chair by the bed and got busy over the bag with a spoon, a lighter. I climbed on the bed and straddled the girl’s hips as she let out a low moan. She struggled, pulling on the headboard, and it banged on the wall. My hands slowly stroked up and down her arms. She twisted and shook.

  A vibrating windup toy at my disposal.

  A toy.

  “Yeah, man. Yeah. Go for it.” Plastic crinkled and crumpled. The determined flick of a lighter. Once. Twice. A desperate inhale, a groan. The squeak of a chair.

  I leaned over the girl, my face inches from hers, eye-to-eye. She squealed, twisting her head away.

  Is this what it’s like?

  “Slap her to get her to shut up if you want.” He snorted, sniffing deep.

  “Look at me.” My voice was low, controlled.

  She opened her one good eye. Red blood vessels strained up at me. A blue eye, the same blue of…

  I planted my hands on either side of her head, my left landing in a pillow, fisting there. She moaned and squirmed under my weight, her eyes pleading, begging.

  Hysteria.

  A languid laugh. “Man, you sell good shit, huh?”

  “Shh.” I laid a finger against her broken lips.

  Her head tipped up and jerked from side to side. She shook.

  I grinned.

  I snatched up the pillow with my left hand and slid the Kimber out of my holster with my right and fired through the pillow, straight at the motherfucker. A second time. A third. The girl’s muffled shriek strained against the tape over her mouth.

  Mole’s right eye erupted with a gush of blood. His chest bled from the two holes I incinerated through him. His head dropped to the side, blood spilling in gushes onto the shag rug.

  I put my gun away and slid my small knife from the side of my leg. “I’m getting you outta here. Don’t scream. Don’t run. You won’t get far. What we don’t want are the cops here.” I cut the ropes at her legs, still straddling her. “You’re gonna get up and get your pants and your shoes on, and we leave together.”

  She nodded, her chest heaving, and I cut the ropes on her hands. She scrambled off the bed and grabbed a pair of faded jeans off the floor. She yanked them up her legs and then shoved her feet into a pair of Keds that had been tossed in a corner. Her shaking hands tried to cover her naked chest. I took off my leather jacket and approached her. She shuddered but accepted the jacket as I put it around her shoulders.

  She stumbled under the weight of the heavy leather, staring at the dead dipshit’s body in the chair. I grabbed my empty packaging from the small round table at his side and stuffed it in my pocket. There was a medicine bottle on the table.

  Filled with what? I flicked open the top.

  Gold flakes and grains.

  An old man who had been panning for gold just west of here had been murdered the night before at his motel room, his treasure stolen. I glanced at Mole’s lifeless corpse.

  Motherfucker.

  “Has he been talking to anybody on the phone?” I asked the girl as I inspected the bottle. “Anybody else come here or know he’s here?”

  She sniffed and wiped at her nose. “He called his brother. They talked. They were going to meet up tonight and…and party.” She let out a low wail.

  I grabbed his cell phone from the table and slid the gold into the front pocket of my jeans. “Okay, okay. It’s over. I’m going to take you out of here on my bike and get you safe, okay?”

  Her head jerked. “I don’t wanna go with you. N-no. No more, please! Please!”

  “I’m not kidnapping you. I’m getting you home. What’s your name?”

  “J-Jill.”

  “Listen up, Jill. We’re walking out of here, all natural. I’m gonna put my arm around you, like you’re my girlfriend, okay? Just so it looks normal to whoever’s watching. You keep your face down. Don’t look at anybody. Don’t speak to anybody.”

  Her round eyes darted to my wedding ring. “You-you’re married?”

  “Yeah. And my wife’s waiting for me. But I want to get you out of here first, all right?”

  She nodded, tugging my jacket closer around her. “All right.”

  My jacket swallowed her up. Only her reddish-blonde hair and pale face were visible from that swathe of black.

  “We’re gonna get on my bike and get the hell out of here. You got that? We’ll get you some clothes and get you to a bus or a train or whatever. That guy’s on his way. You don’t want him to find you, do you?”

  She shook her head. “No. No. Let’s go. Let’s go!”

  “All right then. No yelling, no running, or we’ll get stopped.”

  She nodded as she wrapped her arms around herself, the jacket hanging on her.

  “Go into my inside pocket there and grab my sunglasses.” She carefully fiddled with the jacket and found the Ray-Bans. She held them out to me. “You put ’em on. Your eye looks like shit. Don’t want anyone seeing that right now. Also needs protecting on the bike.”

  She slid the glasses over her small face. The large sporty black lenses made her look like a drunken teen starlet, bracing for the paparazzi the morning after. “Thank you.” Her voice squeaked.

  “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  I opened the door and closed it behind us firmly, wiping it with the bottom part of my shirt. I slung my arm around her. She flinched for a second and then walked rigidly beside me. We got to my bike, and I took out my phone and called Boner, who I knew was nearby. I got him to deal with the remains of the dipshit Demon nephew. I’d never seen the asshat before, and I wasn’t sure if he was an official prospect or no, but there were no signs of anything Demon Seeds-related in his motel room. Just that tattoo on his arm. I couldn’t afford to get into it with the Seeds now. Vig and I had our little covert agreement going, things had to stay cool. That body had to disappear.

  We stopped at a convenience store, and I got her a windbreaker, a Mount Rushmore T-shirt, and a toothbrush while she picked out something to tie her hair with. At a fast-food joint by the bus station, I got her a milkshake and a burger and a soda for myself while she hit the restroom to get cleaned up and changed.

  She came back out, and I smoked a cigarette while she ate her food. Her eyes studied my colors while she slurped on the last of her chocolate shake.

  “You’re in a biker gang?”

  “It’s a club, not a gang.”

  “I thought you were gonna—”

  “I know. That’s what I wanted him to think.”

  “Right. Thank you. I don’t know what I would’ve done, what would’ve happened.”

  “You don’t want to know what would’ve happened, so let’s not go there.” I leaned over the
table and swirled the ice in my soda cup. “What I do know is that you need to go home and stay there.

  “Me and my friends came out here for a concert which I wasn’t supposed to go to in the first place. My mom just got remarried, and things…changed. He’s real strict. I was ticked off at him, at her, and I went anyway, deciding not to bother going home at all. Knew I’d get into trouble anyhow. At the concert, I went to take a pee, and he started talking to me. He grabbed me, and…”

  “I get it.”

  She toyed with the straw and chewed on her lips.

  “If you’re mad at your mom and your new dad, try talking it out first. Don’t just pick up and run and get sloppy while you’re doing it. They want to keep you safe, and that’s the best thing there is for a kid, especially a girl. There’s plenty of what you just went through out there. Worse even. Maybe if you act grown-up, they might treat you that way.”

  She frowned. “You a dad?”

  “Gonna be. I’m actually missing a doctor’s appointment right now.” I glanced at my watch for the hundredth time. The damn cell phone buzzed in my back pocket.

  Grace was gonna have my head. Again. I had put the cell phone on vibrate only. I knew it was her, but I couldn’t answer and lie to her. I just couldn’t. Not now.

  Jill bit her lip. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s okay. There’ll be plenty more. Got six months to go till D-day.”

  She crushed her empty milkshake container between her hands. “Thank-you seems kind of lame for everything you’ve done for me.”

  “We’re good. You got to keep this under your hat though. Cops getting involved won’t be good for any of us. I’m trusting you.”

  Her spine stiffened. “I won’t tell.”

  I leaned forward over the small table. “You need to remember that they could come after us, Jill, and if they find you or me, it won’t go well.”

  She nodded her head.

  “Appreciate what you got. Make the best of it. You got lots of time ahead of you to make changes and choices. Take care of yourself. Girls got to do that because boys are assholes and don’t know any better. Okay? And you need help dealing with all the hell he put you through, you go get it. Don’t take it out on yourself. Trust me on that one.”