“Open your eyes,” Lola used to tell me. “Open your eyes to what’s really going on, Travis.”
Blindness had been my undoing.
That phrase “open your eyes” stuck in my gut now as I watched Pippa Lofting stalk away. She had every right to ask my real name. I knew hers. Quid pro quo and all that. How many women let you fuck them without knowing your name?
Then it struck me that I did want to fuck her. That would make her the first woman I wanted to actually have sex with, if you didn’t count the endless hookers and hangers-on of Ortelio Jones. The first real woman. The first woman who would dare to ask my birth name.
Pippa had every right to want to know more about me. She knew next to nothing. She knew I’d been a lawyer before resorting to killing people with a different sort of instrument, and that was about it. Just the knowledge of either sort of career would be enough to put most women off, but not Pippa. She had stuck adoringly by my side. She didn’t just want me for a bodyguard, that was obvious. She wanted me for a lover.
I followed her at a safe distance. Watched her crash into a biker, bounce off a few other folks like a ping-pong ball, ready to hit back if anyone harmed her.
Then I saw her meet up with Wolf and Tracy. I was glad she’d be safe with good, solid friends, but something told me to stick around. I knew why when I saw Tobias Weingarten come flailing like a banshee out of the crowd. I moved close enough to hear Wolf yell that he would “kick his butt so hard his asshole will be up between his shoulder blades.”
The crowd was egging them on to a dangerous level. By the time I moved in close enough to act as a shield between Pippa and a hard chick who might’ve gone head to head with her, Tobias had actually connected a few feeble punches to Wolf’s solar plexus. I wasn’t worried. Wolf could more than handle him, if those bikers would let him go.
I did something really stupid and corny I hadn’t done in two years. I winked at Pippa. I don’t know why. It just seemed the thing to do, to reassure her I was there, that I meant her no harm. Although God fucking knows, I’ve always been far from harmless.
“Hey, you’re in my way,” said Pippa, straining to see past my shoulder. “You’re missing the fight of the century.”
So I bent my knees and circled her waist with my hands. I set her little boots on top of mine so she had a boost up, a front row seat.
The guys had let Wolf go by now. Before, Wolf had just been toying with Tobias. Now I could tell he was enraged. “Where’d you get those clothes, nerd boy? At the toilet store? I was going to tell you a joke about my dick but it’s too long.”
“Oh yeah?” answered Tobias, rolling up the sleeves of his tight turtleneck. He seemed the sort to wear a turtleneck no matter what the weather. “Well, I—I—I would tell you a joke about your pussy, but you’ll never get it.”
Wolf laughed, relaxed now. “Good one! You said my pussy, get it? You’re talking about Tracy. You’re the one who’ll never get it.”
Tobias laid into Wolf now, fists cycling like a boxer at a punching bag. Wolf merely held the shorter man away by placing his palm flat against Tobias’ forehead. Tobias snarled, “Cumon, fuckboy! I’m not the one who played clarinet in the high school band.”
Hoots and catcalls erupted from the crowd. “A flute!” “I played the trombone!” “I played one of those super big drums!” various people shouted.
Wolf looked from side to side, embarrassed. “It was a saxophone, byte boy! And you fucking messed with the wrong high school marching band member!”
Removing his hand from Tobias’ forehead, Wolf jumped lightly to one side, allowing Tobias to plow into a wall of men. No one touched or restrained either combatant this time—they were having too much fun. Wolf skipped on his toes from side to side, hands in fists like a pugilist. I actually wanted to see what happened next, but Pippa twisted her torso around and looked at me bright-eyed.
“This would be a good time to leave. No one will notice we’re gone, and I’ve got Ben Wa balls in my pussy.”
That did it.
I lifted her so she could jump off my boots, and I found her hand. The crowd pressed in on us so energetically, eager to take our vacated positions. I had to go first like a battering ram, holding Pippa under my arm like a mother hen. It was a temptation to look back when I heard Wolf braying,
“The only way you’ll ever get laid is if you crawl up a chicken’s ass and wait, you propellerhead.”