Vulnerable (Barons of Sodom) (11 page)

Up at the big house, Zuzu answered the door. She wore a thin
silk robe and nickel-sized pearl earrings, the picture of some New Orleans
Madame circa 1890. Tuck only interacted with the woman on special occasions, as
she rarely seemed to be upright. As the chief's best loved consort, Z was often
in or on her way to his bed.

“I'll get him, sugar,” she drawled on the threshold. “You
pop a squat in the parlor, now.”
Tuck ventured into the “parlor” (AKA, the room where all plastic-covered furniture
came to die) and paced in front of the non-working fireplace. He ought to show
strength, he figured. So he wouldn't sit. He'd look the Chief in the eye and
explain: “I wanted the girl, I took my reward. It was like you said.”

He heard God coming down the stairs before he saw him. As
usual, the man looked surprisingly frail and powerless without his band of
followers in the clearing. He looked like someone's grandpa, in fact. Cigar
clenched in his teeth, dirty flannel shirt falling out of the folds in his
belted jeans.

“Lieutenant. Thanks for making the time. Pop a squat,
won'tcha?”

“I'm fine up here,
sir.”
“I'd really prefer it.”

Tuck popped a squat.

“Great. I just wanted to check in. How are things with the
men?”

“Still restless, as
usual. They want a mission of some kind.”
“I heard they saw a little action last night. People are talking about a bar
brawl at Dixie's.”

“I didn't see a brawl, sir. There was a stiff in the parking
lot, but I think a sharp-shooter got him first.”

“Huh,” said the chief, easing into his own grimy armchair.
“Funny how rumors get started.” He smirked then, and chewed for a moment on the
unlit end of his cigar.

“Look, now. I'm not dumb; I've heard the rumors, too. And I
called you here today because I wanted your opinion. The boys respect you,
don't they?”

“Some of them, sir,” Tuck laughed, briefly imagining Spivey
“respecting” anyone. “Let's just say, I can make them respect me. When
absolutely necessary.”

“Hmm. That sounds like a morale problem to me. That's one
thing I've learned at the top, Lieutenant. A Rider is nothing without his club.
A man is nothing without his brothers. If we don't believe in that, what do we
have? You follow?”

Zuzu, who had been lurking in the shadows by the portico,
now came over to the Chief as if on cue. She rubbed his spotty old head with
her long fingers, bending low so her heavy breasts grazed him.

“I know how
I
like to boost morale,” the Chief said,
gazing up at his concubine. “I never underestimate a good woman. One night can
change a man. I believe that, too. Don't you?”

It might have been a trick of the light, but Tuck imagined
that he saw God's eyes flicker toward the open window. Had he been the one in
the lamplight this morning? Had he seen Bridie, naked and prone on the back of
his bike?

“And it comes down to a matter of convenient timing. We've
got this beautiful little piece of ass who needs a good breaking and all these
men with nothing to do. So I got to thinking—why not start a little friendly
competition?”

Tuck's stomach lurched.

“I figured a race. Along the open plains. Get all the
choppers in top working order; you can put your little munchkin to work.
Whoever comes in first across a twenty-mile course, they get custody. Been too
long since these poor soldiers have had some missies to fuck.”

There was certainly a challenge in God's eyes—something in
the past twenty-four hours had made him change his mind about Bridie's fate.
This all felt like a test. To disagree would be to demonstrate bad faith and
confess his feelings for the girl, neither of which would sit well with the
other Barons. But to agree was more horrible. To agree meant imagining Bridie—beautiful,
beautiful Bridie—caught up in the grimy embrace of Yak, or face down on
Spivey's bed. He couldn't possibly let this happen; yet he couldn't defy the
leadership.

“So what do you suppose, LaRouche? A little friendly game,
for the new pussy?” Zuzu laughed behind her man, emerald eyes ablaze. Tuck
stood fast, and extended a hand.

“I'll oversee the game myself, sir.” De-coded: he wouldn't
lose. He couldn't lose. There was suddenly everything at stake. “She's a fine
little nugget, you know. I plan to win.”

DET. RAMIREZ:
This is just background info. Will you
tell us about your relationship with Tucker LaRouche, in the days that followed
your arrival at the Barons camp?

BRIDIE:
I wasn't a virgin when I got to the Barons
clubhouse, if that's what you're asking. Lost it to Tommy DeRusso on the banks
of Sulfur Creek. I was fourteen.

DET. RAMIREZ:
You told us to ask different questions,
Ms. Calyer—but we still can't situate Mr. LaRouche in the ring. His file is
freighted. Three-time suspect for manslaughter...

BRIDIE:
And he was released or acquitted all those
times, mind, and those were all before I even met him. Don't make me call my
lawyer back.

DET. RAMIREZ:
No, no. We're just trying to get a
better picture of him now, is all. What kind of man he was and whatnot. If the
corruption spread from the Waco police to the Barons and back, you'll forgive
us if we have a hard time styling your friend as a hero.

BRIDIE:
Ha! He wasn't a hero, detective, that's for
damn sure.

Okay, you really want to know? What kind of man was Tuck?

There's a thing that happens to people when they're lost and
young and afraid and lonely—you get like a moth, you move towards any light
that will have you. At first, I thought I was a moth like this. First day at
camp, I saw this strapping hunk of man meat—and you gotta admit that,
Detective, he's a bona fide looker to this DAY—

DET. RAMIREZ:
Sure. But...

BRIDIE:
But that night in the bar, when he lied to
protect me—I got a glimpse of character below that shell. He was handsome, yes.
And just the way I could tell Mr. Reginald craved my body in the living room of
our trailer that night, I knew Tuck wanted me. I watched him struggle not to
touch me in the low light of the bar. And that's the thing that did it, in the
end. He could have done whatever he wanted to me, at any point. Just the way
everyone else had. But when we finally did get together, it was both of our
choice.

DET. RAMIREZ:
(
breathless
) And you first got
together that night, after the third murder?

BRIDIE:
He drove me home on the back of his
motorcycle. I felt his pulse getting faster with the road. Have you ever fallen
in love, detective?

DET. RAMIREZ:
You're saying you were in love with Mr.
LaRouche?

BRIDIE:
You're not listening. I'm not an idiot, I
know how love grows. But the falling part—that happens plenty. The falling part
is the sweetest. The part where he puts his gruff hands on yours and slides
them down your body. How his eyes look in the moonlight, begging for your body.
The first kiss, finding out how your mouths fit together.

And yes, I was lonely. And yes, he was beautiful. But it was
also
right
, Detective. I don't regret the way he fit his mouth to my
curves. I don't regret the way he asked me, with his eyes, if he could slide
his fingers inside me. I don't regret how I felt, rising and falling like a
wave on the back of that still-vibrating Harley. I don't regret the mosquitoes
or the honeysuckle in the air. And if that sounds like the story of someone
eighteen and broken, well…I'm glad I met Tuck when I was eighteen and broken.
He was as good a man as they make.

Now does that answer your question?

Detective?

...Detective?

DET. RAMIREZ:
Ahem, yes. Okay. Let's take a break,
shall we? It's gotten a little muggy in here.

Tuck was aware that God might watch him from the windows, so
he tried not to race down the hill. He didn't know yet what he'd say, but he
knew he had to find Bridie. And he had to get her alone. They'd make a plan,
some plan... they could enlist Athena, she was good at that kind of thing.

But before he'd made it to the rock path leading up to the garage
entrance, Spivey rolled in front of the doors like a fat, horrible stone. The
big man wore a crooked grin below three days' worth of an unkempt moustache
that bled into sideburns.

“I heard a rumor, Lieutenant,” Spivey smirked. “Word is
little baby's up for grabs. Sure would like to take her for a ride on this wild
hog.
Heh heh heh.
”

“I'd check your facts, Tubbs. Chief wants it a little more
complicated than all that. I hear there's supposed to be a race for the prize.
And I know your slow ass isn't any kind of competition.”

“Not yesterday, maybe. But little Sark's in there right now,
fixing up my Evo. Should run clean as a whistle by this time tomorrow.” Sure
enough, from inside the garage there was the sound of an engine sparking and
snapping to life. Athena and Bridie yelped gleefully.

“You better watch your back, Tuck. Can't have a big pussy
for a lieutenant. You know the man upstairs doesn't go for that. And I have a
feeling you're turning soft on us.” Spivey leaned in for a moment, holding
Tuck's gaze, before taking a thickly jeweled hand and reaching down. Then he
smacked Tuck's balls with the tip of his big finger. The lieutenant
instinctively doubled over.

“Just as I thought:
soft.
” Then Spivey lurched away,
cackling. Fighting off twin waves of nausea and fury, Tuck trotted into the
garage. He found Athena and Bridie, as expected, puffed up with pride beside a
gleaming engine.

“Lieutenant,” Athena said sarcastically. She looked at her
friend. He, however, had eyes only for Bridie. Though her hair was ratty in a
pile-up bun and her face smudged with engine grease, Tuck was briefly floored
by how beautiful she remained in the full light of day. He knew for certain
then that last night had not been a dream. His body shivered with pleasure at
the realization that he knew exactly what lay beneath her canvas coveralls. He
knew what her sweet, brown nipples looked like. He'd experienced the uncovered
nape of her neck.

“Tuck,” Athena said, sharpening, “we've got news. There's a
lot more going on than you'd think. Cannon is some kind of spy. Bridie's in
trouble—”

“I'll say she is!”

“No, you don't understand. It's all over the papers. I don't
know why they're holding her here, but it's not for her
protection
.”

“That's for damn sure. I just spoke to the man upstairs.”
Both women stopped short. Tuck avoided their eyes, speaking his next words into
the dirt.

“He wants to destroy whatever contract you made with him
yesterday. He wants to place Bridie up for grabs.”

Athena stood up. “That's not fair. That's not fucking fair.
I should have that lunatic by the throat.”

“Do you know what that means, Bridie?”

“We need to get her out of here, T.”

“I'm talking to Bridie, A—listen. I'm going to do everything
in my power. Not one of them is going to lay a
hand
on you. I swear on
my life.”

“Don't listen to him, Baby. We're going to find some way to
get you out of here. People have done it before.”

Bridie took a deep breath. “I trust Tuck,” she said, her
voice a clear, tough alto. “Just tell me what I have to do.”