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Hell, like most of them.
“When’s he back? He missin’ today’s run?” Sig passed the joint, letting the smoke in his lungs roll out of his mouth and sucking it back up into his nostrils before allowing it to escape up into the sky.
“Yeah. He’ll show back up when he either captures the asshole he’s lookin’ for or gets tired of fuckin’ the same slit a few days straight. Or she rides his dick raw and his nuts dry.”
Sig snorted.
Judge took a couple long drags on it before handing it back. He nudged the bottle at Sig’s feet with his boot. “Early for beer.”
“Yeah.”
“We got a run later.”
“Yep.”
“Guess you ain’t goin’,” Judge concluded.
“Nope. Why I’m drinkin’ that fuckin’ beer and smokin’ this dope.” Sig shook his head. “‘Bout ready to fuckin’ snap, brother.”
“Why?”
“Like Trip, got Buck’s blood in me and it mostly runs hot.”
“Yeah. You were takin’ it out on that Amish piece of ass.”
Sig blew out a long breath. “Yeah. She was into it.”
“Bet she was.”
“Know if any of the sweet butts or the bitches that hang around downstairs are into that?”
Judge’s eyebrows rose. “Think I checked their fuckin’ resumes?”
Sig grinned. “No, but guessin’ a big guy like you likes it a little rough.”
“A little rough ain’t leavin’ bloody welts on a woman’s ass, Sig.”
Sig’s grinned flattened out. “Some are into it.”
“Sure they are. Just haven’t met any.”
“Probably wouldn’t know unless you asked.”
“Pretty fuckin’ sure they’d ask first,” Judge grumbled.
“So, none of those patch whores are into rough?”
“Just said I’d lick my own dick and balls if I could. There’s a reason for that.” Judge held out his hand again and Sig passed him what remained of the joint. He pulled a roach clip out of the inside pocket of his cut and handed that over, too.
“Gotta ask ‘em yourself, Sig,” Judge finally said after smoking it down to almost nothing. He jerked his head back toward the apartment behind them. “Gonna whip and bust a nut in some other bitch while you got that one in your place? Or you gonna bring one up here for her to watch while you do it?” He crushed what little was left of the roach between his big fingers and flicked it over the railing.
“Don’t know what I’m gonna do yet. Just thinkin’ about my options. Gonna need to do somethin’ soon, though. Can feel shit gettin’ tight. Stickin’ close to home ain’t helpin’, either. Makin’ me more restless than ever. Today’s run woulda helped somewhat, but not even gettin’ that.”
“So, go on the run and get Shady to stay with her like the other night. Those two can sit there not talkin’ to each other for fuckin’ hours.” Judge snorted.
It bugged the shit out of Judge that Shady was so damn quiet. He was used to the Originals who were all loud-mouthed assholes and were drunk or fucked up more often than not.
“Ain’t gonna be enough.”
Judge frowned. “What won’t?”
“The run. Wouldn’t be enough, anyway.”
Sig could feel Judge studying his profile, so he kept his eyes glued to the distant tree line and waited.
“You know, that one in there sticks, you ain’t gonna ever be able to do that shit with her.”
That wouldn’t be a problem. “Wasn’t plannin’ on her stickin’, brother.”
“Good. It’s clear she ain’t what you need.”
“Right.”
“Her head space is nothin’ but fucked up. Yours ain’t much better.”
That was something Sig didn’t need to hear. He knew it already. It was hard to hide, so most of the time, he didn’t.
He sucked on his teeth, then nabbed his beer off the floor, putting it to his lips as he said, “Goin’ up there.”
Judge shifted sharply in his chair. “Where?”
Sig took a long pull on the bottle, then sat it on his thigh. “Up there.”
“The fuck you are. ‘Specially alone.”
“Yeah, brother. Just to see what I can find out.”
“Don’t be a stupid fuck, Sig.”
“Easier to sneak in and out to grab some info doin’ it alone.”
“Get it from her,” Judge ordered.
“She ain’t talkin’.”
Judge spit a hocker over the railing. “You blame ‘er?”
“No.”
“Try fuckin’ harder.”
“One of the reasons my patience is runnin’ so fuckin’ thin. Tired of waitin’. Tired of tryin’. Tryin’ not to push her, but I gotta know.”
Judge leaned forward, planted his elbows on his thighs and twisted his head toward Sig. “Why? Just said she ain’t stickin’.”
“Just need to know.”
“Is it some sick fantasy for you, Sig, knowin’ what happened?”
Was it? He twisted his neck to face Judge. “No. Wanna make ‘em pay.”
“Why?”
“’Cause they shouldn’t get the fuck away with what they did to her.”
“Like you did to that Amish girl?”
“Again, she wanted it. Asked for it. Was into it. Not gonna justify that shit again. Red didn’t ask for any of what happened to her. She didn’t beg for those bruises or to be knocked up.”
“That you know of.”
