Pike (The Pawn Duet #1) - T.M. Frazier Page 0,40

her out here more often. Now, tell me your thoughts on that feller in Hollywood that I know is a secret Russian spy.”

“Who?” I ask, not knowing who he could be talking about.

Gutter purses his lips. “That no good John Stamos, that’s who.”

I laugh and look over Gutter’s shoulder to Pike whose lip is doing the twitchy thing again. “I haven’t heard anything about him, but I’ll let you know if I do.”

“You do that, kid.” He slaps Pike on the shoulder. “Now, what brings the likes of you all the fuckin’ way out here to see an old feller like me?”

Pike lights another cigarette and hands one to Gutter who takes it with a thankful nod. “Much obliged, young man.”

Gutter looks from Pike to me, then back to Pike again. “You out here to dump a body?” He points at me with his cigarette. “‘Cause she still looks a bit alive, so I think yer fuckin’ this one up, kid. And she’s too pretty to feed to the gators.” He flashes me a wink.

Pike rolls his eyes. “I’m here to bring you this.” He passes an envelope to Gutter who then tucks it into his pocket. “You ain’t need to be doin’ this all the time, kid. We’ve been over this.”

Pike scoffs. “I don’t need to do any of the shit I do. It don’t stop me from doing it.”

Gutter chuckles. “The fucking apocalypse couldn’t stop you when you set your mind to something, kid. I should know better by now.”

Gutter hands me a beer. I sit on the edge of the boat as Pike and Gutter tinker with his motor. “Don’t let yer limbs dangle,” Gutter says, coming to sit beside me. “Unless you got boots on like these,” he taps the scuffed white plastic boots that cover the legs of his overalls all the way to his knees. “That’s how we catch gators, by hanging the bait over the water.”

Pike flashes me an amused look.

“Good to know,” I mutter, lifting my feet onto the boat. I cross my legs underneath me, tucking them in tight.

Pike is still tinkering with the motor, occasionally swearing under his breath when Gutter takes a seat beside me.

“Have you known Pike long?” I ask, taking a swig of my cold beer. The bubbles tickle my throat on the way down.

Gutter nods. “Yep. Since before he sprouted hair on his balls. Found his little skinny ass shivering in the reeds one night, and although I kept telling the runt not to come back––” he points behind his shoulder with his beer bottle. “––obviously the kid don’t listen for shit.”

No, he doesn’t. I look at Pike who has removed his shirt. His muscles strain and flex as he works on the motor, his skin gleaming with sweat, making his tattoos look animated under the light of the moon. I shiver, and it’s probably the drip from the condensation on the bottle falling onto my leg because that’s the only thing it could be.

Gutter nudges my shoulder, bringing me back from my thoughts. “Sorry, I’m just trying to picture Pike ever being little, skinny, or a runt.”

He chuckles. “Sure, that’s what you were doing.”

I take another sip of my beer, trying to cover my blush with the bottle.

“Pike’s a good kid. He can be a terrible human being but a good fuckin kid.” Gutter says although I’m not sure what distinguishes the two. “The two aren’t separate.”

“I haven’t seen a lot of the good side,” I admit.

“You’re alive, ain’t ya?” Gutter asks. “You’re on it if you ask me.”

“Only because I’m a part of his dastardlier plans,” I argue.

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.” Gutter takes the envelope that Pike had given him out of his pocket and hands it to me.

I turn it over in my hands. “What is this?”

Gutter points with his eyes to the envelope. “That’s the thing about envelopes. You have to open them to find out.”

It isn’t sealed, the flap just folded inside. I tug it free. I’m not sure what I expect to find, but when I pull out the contents. It’s money, and not just a little. There has to be at least a few thousand dollars’ worth of hundreds inside. I tuck the flap back in and hand it to Gutter. He opens it again, removing something from behind the bills before again tucking it safely into the pocket of his overalls.

“So, he gives you money?” I ask, stating the obvious and not asking the more important