“Quen looked down at himself and chuckled. “Oh, that. Has a mind all its own.”
“Don’t do it, Quentin.”
“Gotta.”
“What’s Fran…ever done to you?”
“Offended my eyesight?”
Toby burst out laughing.
“Anyhow,” Quen said, “this’ll be the best thing ever happened to her. Bet she’s never gotten it from a handsome dude like me.”
“Or from anyone else,” Toby threw in.
“She’s lucky I’m not making her pay for it.”
“Don’t,” Brenda said again. “You wanta mess around…mess around with me.”
Quen glanced at Toby.
“No can do,” Toby said. “Now just shut up and lay there before somebody gets hurt.” To Quen, he said, “I think Fran’s ready for some lovin’.”
“I do believe you’re right, Jack.” He stepped in front of her, clutched her short brown hair and pulled her head back. She looked up at him, her eyes red and wet and bulging. “Where do you want it?” he asked.
“No!” she blurted. “Please!”
He jerked her head forward and prodded her in the eye.
She squealed.
“There?”
“No!”
Brenda, looking fierce, rolled onto her back and shoved with both arms at the floor.
Toby decided not to warn Quen.
Pulling Fran by the hair and snarling, “Stand up, stand up,” into her face, Quen dragged her to her feet. He let go and she stayed up. “Take it off,” he said, “or I’ll rip it off.”
She pulled her sweatshirt over her head, tossed it aside, and quickly folded her arms across her breasts.
Quen shoved her arms down. “Nice set a knockers,” he said.
“Not bad,” Toby agreed.
Quen slapped Fran’s left breast sideways. Then he slapped the other. Each time he smacked one, Fran yipped and flinched. He soon had both breasts swinging, bumping against each other. Then he seemed to sense trouble. He turned around just as Brenda, hobbling on her good leg, her mouth twisted in agony and tears spilling down her face, hurled herself at him.
“Shit!” he gasped.
Snarling, she reached for his throat.
He caught her in the cheek with a hard right that knocked her head sideways, made her lips go rubbery and sent a shower of spit into the air. The blow turned her body toward Toby.
Toby stepped in against her, put his arms around her and drove his knee up into her belly so hard she was lifted off her feet.
She crashed hard to the floor.
“That oughta take some of the get-up-’n-go out of her,” Toby said.
“I’ll say,” said Quen. “Wow.”
“Now let’s see what you can do with Fatso.”
Grinning, Quen clamped Fran’s nipples between his thumbs and forefingers.
“Please,” she whispered.
He squeezed and lifted. Whimpering, Fran went up on her tiptoes.
“Keep her like that,” Toby said. He stepped behind her, took hold of her shorts with one hand and jerked them down to her bare feet.
She wore baggy white cotton panties.
Weird, Toby thought. All sexy without any bra on, then come to find out she’s wearing old-lady drawers.
“Go figure,” he muttered. He dragged them down with his left hand.
She was still on her tiptoes.
“Step outa your stuff,” Toby said.
Whimpering, she stepped out of the shorts and panties and kicked them away.
Toby snatched up the panties, wadded them into a ball and stuffed them into her mouth.
The fabric muffled her noises.
He grinned at Quen. “Better?”
“A lot.”
“Have at her. She’s all yours. Entertain me. If you’re really good, I might even let you have a crack at Brenda after I get done with her.”
Quen beamed.
Chapter Fifty-seven
Leaving Sherry at his own house with Jeff and the revolver, Pete had made a solo trip to the house next door. He’d wandered completely around it, looking for any sign that Toby might be lurking on the grounds or inside. He’d peered through windows into its empty rooms. He’d checked the doors.
Back in the kitchen of his own house, he explained, “It’s all locked up. There’s no sign of a break in. So unless he managed to pick a lock…”
“Somebody might’ve left something open,” Jeff suggested.
“It’s possible. But I looked around the best I could without breaking in, myself. I don’t think he’s there.”
Sherry, sitting at the kitchen table, took a sip of her fresh Bloody Mary. “We figured we’d miss him. We were gone when he showed up and he had the address of a vacant house. He’s not stupid. One look inside, he knew something was wrong. There’d either been a legitimate confusion about the address—or he’d been tricked. Either way, he would’ve hit the road fast.”
“If he ever came out here at all,” Pete said.
She nodded. “That’s possible, too. Can’t imagine why