The Devil's Right Hand - J. D. Rhoades [46]
“Got some beers,” DeWayne said. “Want one?”
Her pale blue eyes showed a muted flicker of interest. She was stoned out of her mind, DeWayne realized. This night was looking better and better. “Sure,” she said.
He reached into the bag and fumbled for a full can. The condensation on the cold beers, however, had rendered the bag as flimsy as tissue. It ruptured and spilled its contents onto the floorboard. DeWayne swore as he fumbled among the cans and cartons.
“Hey,” the girl said. “Is that a gun?”
DeWayne picked up the pistol and pointed it at her. “Yeah,” he said. “Don’t try anything. Just drive.”
The girl showed no reaction. “You a bank robber or something?”
Jesus, DeWayne thought. Was she simple-minded? “Or something, yeah. Now--”
“Cool,” the girl said. “I never partied with no outlaw before.” She smiled, showing her buck teeth. “You got any money? I know where we can get some rocks if you got some cash.”
“I got a little,” DeWayne admitted.
“Awesome,” she said. She put the car in gear. “I’m Debbie,” she said as she pulled off.
DeWayne blurted out the first name he could think of. “I’m Leonard--ah, Lenny,” he said.
“You wanna party, Lenny?” she said. She picked up the joint form the ashtray, tried to puff on it. It had gone out.
“Honey, I love to party,” DeWayne grinned. He took the joint from her fingers and put it between his lips. He punched the cigarette lighter.
“Awesome,” she said again.
Keller awoke with the morning sun streaming through the bedroom blinds. Marie was lying on her side next to him. He slipped an arm around her. She murmured something and snuggled back against him. He lay like that with her for a few moments before the pressure in his bladder became too demanding.
When he came back from the bathroom, she was sitting up in the bed, blinking. She looked up at him and an expression of surprise flitted across her face. Then she smiled, a little shyly.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey,” he said.
She looked at the clock. “Wow,” she said. “I never sleep this late.”
He sat down next to her on the bed and put his arm around her. He tried to kiss her on the mouth, but she turned her head slightly and caught it on her cheek. She turned back to him, put a finger over her lips. “Dragon breath,” she explained. “Not you,” she added hastily, “Me.”
He laughed. “I don’t mind.” He kissed her again, this time on the mouth. “Mmmmm,” she said. She broke the kiss. “Thanks for last night,” she whispered. “And thanks for staying. It--well, let’s just say it’s been a while.”
“I could tell.”
She pulled away and pulled the sheet around her defensively. “What,” she said, looking down at the floor, “You’re saying I’m out of practice? It wasn’t good?” She gave a short, abrupt laugh. “I didn’t hear any complaints.”
“No, no,” he pulled her close again. “But it was like you were making up for lost time.”
She thought that over for a moment. “I’m trying to decide if that was a compliment.”
“It was.”
She smiled and relaxed against him again. She reached up and kissed him on the chin. “Maybe you just better quit talking. It’s not your strong point.” She turned to him and let the sheet fall. “Besides, I have some more lost time to make up for.”
Afterwards, they lay together in a tangle of limbs and sweaty sheets. Marie stretched like a cat and smiled. “Hungry?”
“Yeah,” he replied.
She jumped up and threw her robe on. “Wait here,” she said. “I’ll whip something up.”
“Breakfast in bed?” Keller said.
She laughed. “Not hardly. I’ll call you when it’s ready.”
Keller lay back on the bed and closed his eyes. He had almost drifted back into sleep when he heard a sound, a rattle and buzz that sounded oddly familiar. As he struggled to place the noise, it came again. It sounded as if some huge insect was buzzing against the floor. Keller sat up