Blue Belle - Andrew Vachss [95]
"I dropped the cinder block right on his head. He went down. I jumped on top of him, stomped his face into the ground. I held the cinder block over my head and slammed it into his ribs a couple of times. Then I went back and told the Man that this guy had escaped and I'd stopped him, but he was too heavy for me to drag back.
"I got my parole. He went to the hospital."
"Good."
"Yeah, good. I know how things work. I had to pay for what I know, but I know."
"You can figure this out too, honey."
"I don't know."
"You're scared of this guy, but…"
"I'm always scared of something, Belle. The trick is not to let it get in the way. Like ego—ego gets in the way. I went there tonight to tell the guy I wasn't carrying a beef. Almost begged him to walk away, let it go. But it wasn't what he wanted."
Belle reached for me again. "How about what I want?"
"What do you want?"
She squirmed until she was next to me, one arm on my shoulder, still holding me in the other hand, slippery.
"I told you only two people hit me in my life. You and Sissy. I told you the truth—I told you why," she said, moving closer to me, whispering in the night. "I took my clothes off for men to watch. Everything I ever did with a man, I did with you. But special. From the very first time. I knew. Sometimes you just know something. I want you to do it to me. What he wanted. Nobody ever did."
Her voice dropped even lower, swamp–orchid soft. "I didn't know what I was saving it for, but I knew I had to save something. It's for you."
I kissed her cheek. "You saved it all for me, girl. Don't fuss about it."
"Burke, do it! Come on. I need you to do it. It's special. For you. Not for you to take…for me to give."
"Belle…"
Her mouth was against my ear, tongue darting inside. "Want me to get down on my knees and beg?"
I got off the bed, stood facing her. She was on her knees, taking me in her mouth. "Aagh!" she said, pulling her face away. "That stuff tastes awful."
"What is it?"
"K–Y Jelly. I bought it when I went shopping. It was supposed to be your surprise." She stroked me again, slathering the stuff on. "Yes?"
I nodded.
She turned, still on her knees, her backside to me. "Where's that stuff?" I asked her.
She handed it to me. I covered myself again. Patted her butt, squeezed a glob on my finger, worked it inside her. Softly, slowly. She wiggled her rear. "Uhmmmm…"
I put one hand on each side of her, gently pulling her apart. I felt the tip slide into her. Pushed forward.
"Easy, honey. A big house can have a little door."
I pulled out of her.
"Come on."
"I don't want to hurt you."
"I was just teasing, baby. Come on, now. Come on."
I slipped in her again, working the tip back and forth, a little bit at a time. She rammed herself back against me, grunting, maybe in pain. I looked at her in the dark, split by my cock, her palms flat on the bed, elbows locked. She looked back over her shoulder. "Nice and easy," she said, smiling. The blue beads swinging from her neck.
I found the rhythm. She moved with me, just a little, working me deeper into her. "Just for you," she whispered, as I shot off inside her.
110
WE WERE on the move before it got light outside. I swung the Plymouth into the garage, led Belle up the stairs, the pistol cocked in my hand.
Everything was as I left it. I let Pansy out to her roof, poured some food into her bowl. Belle stood next to me.
"You're not worried he'll try this place?"
"I don't think he wants anything to do with rooftops after last night."
"What happened?"
"It doesn't matter," I said, popping open file cabinets, handing her papers to put on the desk.
Pansy strolled into the room. Belle patted her head. The beast ignored her, demolishing the food. I opened the floorboard in a corner of the back closet. Belle knelt next to me. "Take this stuff over there," I told her, filling her arms with death.
She dumped it all on the couch like it was laundry. A sawed–off .12–gauge holding three–inch magnum shells. Double–O buckshot in one barrel, a rifled deer slug in the other. A Sig Sauer .45—the closest