Page 31 of The B!tch is Bad

Joe King went “ugggggh,” and Gray Whaley held Patience back a bit, as though she might lunge for the fink any moment. I curved my hand round the back of her neck, every scream vibrating through my arm.

Slayer furiously added his two cents. “We agree with this lamb. We stand behind her a hundred percent. I move that I take care of this pelagatos during a private mission, saving you the hassle and gas. You fellows may load him into my Hyundai Sonata, already parked in the back alley.”

“I second that!” I shouted, before realizing I wasn’t a member.

Several other members leaped to second the motion—Lytton, Faux Pas, Knoxie, Tanner, and others. Banging his gavel, Ford yelled, “It’s moved and seconded that Santiago Slayer dispose of this informant in a practical, safe manner.”

Apparently it wouldn’t be that safe, because Wolf Glaser chipped in, “I’ll come with, Santiago. We got some chlorine trifluoride we haven’t tested out yet.”

“No,” yelled Ford. “You and that phone go immediately on the fucking road. Fingerhut already knows the phone didn’t move to New Orleans. Take Tobiah in his Prius and follow the path you told Fingerhut.” Ford stood, straightening his cut. “This fucking meeting is adjourned. Town, I want a motherfucking Impossible Burger.”

Town enclosed both me and Patience in the crook of his arms. “C’mon. Let’s get out of here. Patience, you don’t need to think about that tracker anymore.”

Town was right. The last we saw of the illustrious Joe King was Baron Funkhauser and Russ Gollywow lifting the limp limbs of the pendejo and removing him via a back door. Patience escaped pronto and made a beeline for her Pinot on the bar, gulping the last of it, gasping. Town splashed some more into her glass before zipping off to make the Prez’s dinner.

I cupped Patience’s shoulder. “I know that was fucking stressful. But he had to be confronted. What would we have done without this club?”

“I know!” she cried. “That’s all I can think about! What would we have done without the Bare Bones? Creed, I seriously need to learn to shoot. Sean Wildstar told me Slayer is the best, but he’s going to be out of town.”

We didn’t want to discuss Slayer’s glamping trip. I thought I spun it well when I spread my arms and said, “We’re right where we need to be. I’ve known Lytton for awhile. He’ll give us the best instructor. We don’t need to panic about it right now. Fingerhut’s going to be cruising into the swamp tomorrow once Wolf and Tobias make their getaway.”

Patience’s eyes glazed with terror. I can’t say as I blamed her. “Creed, I can’t wait. Tomorrow. I swear, let’s do it after I go check out Wine on Main, again.”

I brushed her damp face with the back of my hand. “Fuck Wine on Main. We’ll do it first thing tomorrow morning.”

Her smile trembled, but she took hold of my fingers, pressing them into her face.