Page 6 of The #2 Guy

“I know… you didn’t let me finish. I’m gonna ‘rescue’ Christine only to take her as my captive, in your Inn. You owe me.”

“I saved your ass and hers.”

“So? I’ve got some serious blue balls for her Roque. Ever since you told me she lives, I’ve been celibate. I haven’t even stuck my dick in a woman’s mouth.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’ll call Sally, my innkeeper. Don’t piss her off. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Adrenalin races through me as I remember Christine. I’ve fucked plenty of women but the way that girl did it for me… I just can’t explain. Pure animalistic chemistry is the closest thing I can think of to describe what it was like between us. At least I hope it was for her, too. I mean the girl did rat me to the Feds after I laid it down on the regular…The back of my neck starts to sweat. My foot is shaking as my knees bounce. I jerk my head to the side, cracking my neck.

“What?” I challenge Roque with my best voodoo hitman eyes.

“Need a Xanax?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“I was joking.”

“You never joke.”

“I do now. Blame it on the women in my life.”

“That’s okay. I left a stash on your plane.”

“Did you leave anything else? The Feds still do random searches. They still can’t let Savage Poet go. They know it was all bullshit.”

“I have some E, Oxy and a little blow.” Now Roque’s eye twitches. “What? I have enough to share. Ever since Red came back you’ve had a real stick up that ass.” Oh shit. Now I’ve done it. Both this eyes twitch and now his knee bounces. “Dude. You should see yourself right now.”

He drops his journal. I slap the pen from his hand. And we go at it like two jerkoffs. Mostly play fighting like we used to when we were frat boys.

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