Chapter 7 A Thigh For A Thigh
Chapter seven
A Thigh For A Thigh
Cactus
I said nothing to Roxy about the fingerprints, nor did she say anything to me about why I was still sitting in her room.
She laid down, pulled the bedspread up, and crashed hard.
As long as she was working for Angelica, she’d be under Saint’s Outlaws’ protection, which was the only reason I was here.
Her suitcase caught my eye as I focused on the room, remembering I was here to figure her out.
I could go through her stuff for my sick gain, but I had a feeling I wouldn’t find anything.
There were mostly clothes sticking out and a few toiletries, but nothing that would tell me who she was or if she was running from anything.
Digging through her things was going to be a bust, but I could head back to the saloon.
I knew which table the family had been sitting at, and it wouldn’t have been that hard to pull their receipt.
However, the club didn’t have tracing capabilities, and this wasn’t worth trading a favor for.
I was coming close to a dead end, and that wasn’t fucking acceptable to me either.
Letting out a frustrated moan, I slid back in my chair.
I was batting 0 for 2, and I didn’t have a fucking clue how I was going to fix any of this.
I let my gaze roam around the room, but when I saw the check presenter, I had a feeling I had just gotten lucky.
The saloon had a stack of check presenters at the main register, so the girls could just place the receipt in one and drop it off at the table.
However, Angelica made sure each girl kept her own to track daily earnings.
Roxy’s was sitting on the edge of the cheap nightstand.
Although the lamp remained on, she didn’t move as I quietly sat on the edge of the bed.
Roxy didn’t even twitch, and that pissed me off.
She should never have crashed with me in the room.
Her lack of self-preservation was a problem.
She’d run into danger, head first, and Angelica would step in to defend her.
It would force Scorpion to rear his ugly head.
Roxy would pay, even if it hadn’t been her fault.
Opening the presenter, I flipped through the receipts.
Roxy had written her tip amounts, and she’d done pretty well considering it was the slow season.
There were only two receipts she hadn’t written on—ours and, by the table number, the family behind us.
Shitty, but it didn’t surprise me. There were pen marks bleeding through the receipt paper, so I flipped it over, needing to know what it said.
The fucking asshole had written on the back: ‘If you want your tip, call.
“ There was a phone number. He’d be lucky if he was still alive by the end of the night.
This was a slight to the club, and that shit never stood.
Taking my phone out, I snapped a picture, smirking at the idea that was forming.
“Hey,” I whispered to Roxy’s back, not bothering to check to see if she was faking. I didn’t fucking care either way. “You’re racking up favors, and I always collect. Starting with the beer.”
I left, waiting until I turned the corner, away from the motel, before I pulled out my phone.
“Yo,” Huckleberry answered on the first ring.
“You getting any?” I asked, needing to know if he was actually going to be helpful. Otherwise, I’d have to head back to the clubhouse before executing my plan.
“Not yet, but there’s a few extra girls here, if you want one.”
I laughed. “Pick one for yourself, and she can thank me later. I need you to help me deal with a certain problem from this afternoon.”
“Fucker touched her? I thought that was a joke.” Huck was a lot.
He could flip through his seven personalities quicker than I could lace up my boots, but there was one thing he didn’t stand for.
No one fucked with the women in his life, and while Roxy wasn’t his, she was a part of the saloon. Close enough.
“Saw the handprint.” I let that settle in, knowing it would rile him up.
“What do you want to do?”
“He left Roxy his phone number, so I’m hoping you can use the girl to set something up. People will miss him, but you know he’s done this before.” This would be the last time he’d touched without permission.
“Yeah, send me the number, and I’ll take care of it.”
The phone went dead in my hand, but I’d reached my bike, parked in the saloon’s back lot. Sitting, I sent him the picture I’d taken and waited. Huck didn’t disappoint me, calling me back in under ten minutes.
“I had my chick call the fucker, and he picked up on the first ring. Told her he couldn’t really talk, so I had her give him the address for the motel in Bisbee. Room 100 hasn’t seen action in a while.”
“When we’re done, fuck her real good. She earned it.” I laughed, knowing exactly where he’d sent the fucker. We had a permanent rental for the room with the owner under a false name for situations like this. “I’ll meet you over there.”
I was still laughing as I started my bike, pulling out onto the road.
***
This was the epitome of a shitty fucking motel room.
Roxy’s room was a palace compared to this dump.
At least she had actual furniture, even if it was cheap.
Everything in this room except the bed was cardboard, and I knew of at least one time when a brother had fallen through the dresser, destroying it.
It didn’t fucking matter that the bed had sheets but no bedspread.
I wasn’t sure what fluids were seeping into the mattress, and I wasn’t taking the risk.
I’d like to see my fiftieth birthday. However, the room was perfect for what we used it for, and if we spilled blood tonight, all it would take was one phone call to the cleaning crew.
I didn’t mind blood. I just didn’t bleach.
I was standing in the corner of the room when Huck signaled our visitor was here. There was a light rap on the door. I took one more step back into the shadows, and Huck used the door to hide behind as he opened it. The fucker walked in like he was planning on getting his and getting the fuck out.
“It’s getting late, and I didn’t think you would call…”
I didn’t give a fuck how late it was at all. If he cared about his family, he would never have touched Roxy.
Huck let the door slide shut, knocking the man to the ground. “She didn’t call you, fucker.”
“What the fuck?” The man rolled onto his back, looking up at Huck.
He wasn’t innocent, and like I told Huck, I had a gut feeling this wasn’t the first time the man on the ground had done this.
It was just the first time he’d ever gotten caught.
“Man, I don’t want any trouble. I thought you were the waitress. ”
“That’s where you fucked up.” I stepped forward, making my presence known.
“Look,” he said, holding his hands up to placate us. “My wife’s a bitch. She’s making me take this historical vacation for the kids, when all I wanted to do was go to Vegas.”
“So, you thought you could touch without permission? It’d get her all hot, and she’d let you wet your dick?
For what? Twenty bucks?” I let my temper flare, still deciding if this man was going to die tonight.
If we killed him, no one would find him buried underneath a cactus in the desert.
Hell, his wife would probably thank us if she knew.
“It was a lapse in judgement. I promise never to do it again.” The man tried to stand, but Huck put a boot to his chest.
“You’ll never do it again.” Huck raised his boot, kicking him between the legs. It was so swift, the man sprang up, trying to curl into a ball to relieve the pain. Huck planted one of his boots on the man’s chest again, pinning him to the ground. “How far do you want to go?” he asked me.
“Let’s see, I saw four red marks. You get one more, and I get two.” I thought it sounded fair.
“You should teach your boys how to be men.” Huck removed his foot, rolling the man over onto the nasty carpet.
He grabbed the man’s wallet from his back pocket.
“Repeat after me…” he said, pocketing his driver’s license.
“…David.” Huck pulled back his foot, kicking the man in the balls from the back this time. “Consent is sexy, bitch.”
I couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled from my chest. “I’ve been on the opposite end of his kicks,” I said, grabbing the man’s hair and forcing him to look at me while I pointed at Huck. “You’ll be lucky if you piss straight after a week.”
Contemplating where I wanted to leave my mark, I thought about the fingerprints on the back of Roxy’s leg.
In theory, this should work, but I had never tried to jump on the back of someone’s upper thigh before.
A thigh for a thigh seemed the decent way to go.
Placing my boot in the same location he’d left a mark, I jumped, landing with all of my weight against. Crunch.
The man wore shorts, and when I went to look at my handiwork, it was pretty gnarly.
“Something’s definitely broken,” I sang.
“He’s not screaming.” Huck jiggled the bottom of the man’s foot with his. “I think you might have knocked him out. That had to hurt.”
“Pussy. I’m wondering if we should do his wife a favor.” I didn’t care either way.
“No,” he moaned, his head rolling so that his cheek lay on the carpet. “I’ll be a good boy. Please.”
“Do you believe this shit?” I asked Huck.
“Not really, but my hard-on is going soft, and I’ve got a blonde waiting for me.”
“Don’t say I’ve never done you any favors, you sick fuck.” I put my boot back on top of the mess I had created, jumping again. The man’s screams reverberated around the room, and Huck sniffed the air, as if they were the best aphrodisiac.
I grabbed the man under one arm, and Huck grabbed the other.
We dumped him in his car, but before I closed the door, I issued one last warning.
“You hired a girl, and her man robbed you for touching without permission. You learned your lesson and won’t try that again.
Drive yourself home. If you’re found here, the story will be even more believable.
” I held my hand out for his wallet. He had five hundred in cash, and I’d give it to Aces to go towards Roxy’s car.
She needed to hit the road, getting the fuck out of Tombstone and never looking back.
My work here was done.