Page 24 of Disco Witches of Fire Island

“Hey there, Scotty!”

“When’s the Promethean open, Scotty?”

“Looking really fit there, Scotty!”

When the man and Vince finally locked eyes, Joe could sense the air between them turn to dry ice.

“That’s Scotty Black, isn’t it?” Joe whispered.

“Yeah,” Vince said. “Look at his face. He’s worried sick we’re doing better than he thought.”

“Why?” Joe asked. “I thought you said his agreement with Dory says we have to stay busy?”

“It does. But the chiselerwantsa reason to kick Dory out,” Vince said, barely moving his lips. “He’s been telling everyone he wants this to be Asylum Harbor’s last season.”

Scotty Black’s icy eyes slowly rolled from Vince to Joe, whom he looked up and down. A faint smile dented his cheek, and a moment later he left.

“So that’s what he’s after, is it,” Vince muttered to himself, then said to Joe, “Don’t be surprised if that slimy bastard tries to pilfer you from the bar.”

“Me?” Joe asked. “He’d want me for the Promethean? But he told Ronnie he wasn’t looking for any other bartenders—”

Vince grabbed a loop on Joe’s jeans and yanked him like a disobedient child. “I’m tellin’ you now, if you dare go with that bastard, I’ll cut your hairy little throat.”

How strange,Joe thought. Just forty-eight hours before, he hadn’t had a job, and now he had a bar manager and the most powerful club owner in the Pines fighting over him.

“Don’t worry,” Joe said. “I would never bail on Dory or you.”

“Remember that.” Vince released Joe from his grasp. “Take your dinner break now. We’ll be slammed again in about twenty minutes. Howie left you some food in theCharlie’s Angelslunchbox at the end of the bar.”

“When?” Joe said, surprised. “I haven’t seen Howie all night.”

“It’s not my job to be your feckin’ secretary!” Vince snapped. “Now go eat somewhere where customers can’t see ya chew. And memorize that goddamn book!”

14.One Night Only

“Romantic love is the fourth holy sacrament. Disco Witches always choose passion over caution—sometimes to our detriment. Luckily, broken hearts can be as powerful as magic wands.”

—Disco Witch Manifesto #11

Ronnie and Vince were walking west on Bay Walk. Moonlight through trees cast lace carpets at their feet. In less than three hours it would be another day of scrubbing toilets and making beds for Ronnie, but before that … “So where’s your place again?”

“It’s all the way on Beach Hill at the dead end,” Vince said. “I warn you, it’s just a rinky-dink pool house I’m renting. Price is right, though.”

“All we need is a place to lie down.” Ronnie’s cock strained against his zipper. “Hold a sec.” He quickly shoved his hand down his 501s to rearrange himself.

“The old knob needs to breathe, eh?” Vince chuckled. “It’s a wonder you don’t get gangrene with as snug as those jeans are. Wouldn’t want anything to fall off.”

“I’m cool.” Ronnie smiled, his junk now comfortably lying left.

“C’mere.” Vince pushed Ronnie against a wooden trash shed and kissed him.

It was not the kind of violent kiss Joe had reported. Vince kissed Ronnie with the right amount of push and pull by the lips andtongue, a good balance of wet and dry, hard and soft, with the perfect number of rest stops and a hungry tension, like a roller coaster climbing to a drop. Vince somehow understood exactly what Ronnie wanted, as if there was a set of instructions written in Braille right on the surface of his lips. But what was that thing Ronnie felt in the base of his stomach?Butterflies?

No, no, no, no, no! Get control of yourself. This is supposed to be a revenge fuck.

“Let’s just do it here,” Ronnie growled, grabbing Vince’s crotch as if they were two strangers in a sex club.

Vince jumped back and laughed. “You always come on so hard, lad?”

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