Page 98 of Juniper Unraveling

Ironically, the man I hit with the rock goes by the name Rocky—a finding that would’ve made me laugh, if not for the fact I’m pissed off.

He sits cross-legged across from me, thumbing through Papa’s journal, as if he can read it. “’The hell you need a book for? Ain’t got no pictures.”

There are a few toward the back, but I don’t tell him so, and the way the asshole carelessly flips the pages pulls strings of tension through my muscles. “Then, give it back to me.”

Eyes glimmering with amusement, his lips quirk, and he holds the book up, taunting me with it. “You want this, darlin’?”

“Forget it. Keep it.”

Frustrated, he chucks the book across the bed of the truck, and I follow where it lands just outside the cage. “Man, fuck that book. Gordy, why we gotta hand her over so fast? ‘The fuck’s the hurry?” he shouts over his shoulder, to the man pacing alongside the truck with a gun.

“I’m starving. My boy’s starving. And so is my wife.”

“I ain’t got no wife, no boy.” Rocky points a dirty finger at me. “I want this one.”

“Hell, naw. She worth way too damn much. Next one. I promise.”

“Fuck the next one. You say that every damn time. Tired of handin’ every damn woman we stumble ‘cross over to those shitarded Skulls. I need to fuck something, or my dick’s gon’ shrivel up!”

“Hey!” The guard outside the truck pauses. “Watch your damn mouth in front of my boy.”

“What makes you think I’d let your shriveled up dick anywhere near me,” I chide.

He kicks the cage, and the hard panel of the truck thumps against my head. “Shut your mouth, bitch.”

“You put one fucking scratch on her, and I’ll skin ya and leave ya for the Ragers,” the guard warns, and I whip the hair out of my face, offering Rocky the smug grin stretching my lips.

A thunderous rumble stiffens my muscles, and I twist inside the cage, contorting my body in an awkward arc to get a look at where it comes from.

“How’s it goin’, Rigs?” Gordy says, stepping past the truck, out of my view.

Rocky leans into the cage, a grin now stretching his lips. “Who’s smiling now, cunt?”

“Piss off, toothless,” I say, as he scoots himself out of the truck.

The thump of boots edges closer. One set, from what I can discern, and all I can see is black. A black leather vest, with bronzed muscled arms peeking out from it. A leather-gloved hand slides beneath the tarp and lifts it up, until a half-skull face stares back at me.

I kick back from him.

I mean, the top part of his face is normal, but the bottom half is covered in a skull mask that looks like teeth. Dark black sunglasses shield his eyes, offering no distinct characteristics that could possibly make him human.

“I don’t know.” The stranger’s deep, raspy voice makes the other men’s sound like high-pitched squeaks. “Kinda scrawny.”

“Scrawny!” Gordy’s voice squeaks higher into more of a squawk. “She damn sure ain’t scrawny.”

“Hot damn, baby. You mine now, bitch.” Rocky leans in between the two men, licking his lips, and I spit in his face.

“Go fuck yourself.”

The stranger chuckles, tipping his head. “On second thought, I think I like her.”

“Cool. Cool. Whatcha got?” Gordy asks, flicking the fingers of his outstretched hand.

“Case of beans and six bottles of water.”

“’The fuck?” Gordy snaps his hat off the top of his head and throws it to the ground. “Case of beans? She’s perfect, man. Came from the wall. Clean. Probably has all her fuckin’ shots, and everything. You ain’t gonna find cleaner than this one.”

“You told me Legion’s after her. Therefore, you owe me the usual cut for covering your ass.”