CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
RAZOR
You always do that, just pop out of nowhere and say nothing. You’re weird. It’s startling. But I guess it’s fine. You’re part of the freak show. Just try not to clip my heels or step on my toes. I have on my slick Converse today.
Nacho cheese smacks me across the face, entering the open doors that let out the chaotic mixed sounds of people beating the fuck out of games.
I’m looking for someone. That’s the only reason I came in here.
But the Photo Booth sitting off to the right side of the entrance is some taunting, sick joke.
I try to walk past. You see me. You’re breathing on my damn neck. But retaliation is burning a hole in my chest, putting me in a rigid halt.
So, that’s where you thought you could kiss someone else and get away with it.
My mind’s a palace of evil, conjuring up aggravating ghosts of the two of them giggling and going in together, then coming back out with a wicked secret pulling at their lips.
“Let’s run away together.”
“I love you.”
“She’s going-”
Dragging in a hateful breath, my eyes close to safety and I cover my right ear.
“Razor?”
The nasally sound of a stuffed nose pries my eyes open.
Already working on his winnings for the day, the little squirt I came to see has a fist closed around a neatly folded strip of tickets, his other hand holding an ICEE, the straw angled right at the red stain in the center of his chapped lips.
“Hey, man, just who I wanted to see.” I smile, offering my hand out to him.
Shoving his tickets in his pocket, he accepts my hand, smiling around his braces and taking control of the shake. “Haven’t seen you in here in a while.”
I can’t fucking remember his name. He said it once when Xene, Cash, and I came in drunk and played laser tag with him.
“Yeah, you know the Globe doesn’t shred itself. It’s…” Waiting for his name, my eyes do that annoying squint over a lazy grin.
“Rocket,” he cheeses.
“Rockeettt! Yeah, I knew it was something cool as hell. How you been, man?”
I didn’t know. I completely forgot.
He lets my hand go, still smiling like I’m Jesus coming to take him home. “Just living the dream.” Spreading his arms out, he looks around his paradise with flashes of rainbow reflecting off his glasses.
“Here’s the thing,” I start, pulling out a ten-dollar bill from my pocket. “I’ll give you this, re-up your slushy, and get you a pizza if you help me with something.”
“Deal,” he agrees easily.
Passing the cash his way, my brow lifts. “Not even gonna ask what you’re getting yourself into?”
“Nope,” he pops the P, gladly taking the folded bill and treasuring it in the pocket with his tickets. “Better to ask for forgiveness than beg for permission.”
“I… I’m not sure that applies here, but I’m catchin’ what you’re throwin’. And honestly, I don’t like it. You shouldn’t make deals with strangers.”
He shrugs, taking a slurp of his ICEE. “If the price is right-”
“What? No,” I shake my head, my brows furrowing. “If a man came in here and said, ‘Hey, little boy, I have candy in my van,’ what are you gonna do?”
“Depends on the candy.”
“Rocket, no.” Huffing, I pinch between my eyes, quickly looking around. “Where is your mom?”
Using his massive cup, he directs his straw toward the blonde lady snapping on a hunk of gum behind the prize and snack counter.
“Ohh, that’s why you’re here all the time.” Slapping a hand to his back, I get him turned around and head toward her.
She meets my eyes, her face falling with the slump of her back. “Is he in trouble? I can see if his dad will come get him.”
“Nah.” Stopping on the other side of the counter, I fold my arms up and lean on the glass, doing a scan of the rubber ducks and packs of Silly Bandz. “I just wanted to make sure you were cool with me getting some help from him on my computer.”
“Oh, phew.” She wipes her face, smearing the chalky eyeliner around her eyes. “That’s fine.”
Why are they both so willing? I could be a serial killer.
Hesitating, I knock my knuckle on the glass and straighten up, giving him a pat into gear. “Let’s rock. We’ll inject you with some more sugar and sodium when we’re done.”
I’d like to be quick as fuck so I can get back to Bunny and suffocate between her legs. Then make her fuck me in the Photo Booth.
But this is for her. So, I’m willing to stay patient with his short-legged stride out into the beating heat—all the way to the office.
Don’t shit yourself. I had to break the lock since my pants miraculously went missing with the key, but we managed to get rid of Carl’s body this morning before the park opened. I wouldn’t traumatize a kid like that.
Or would I?
Is that my plan? Fuck him up the way I’m fucked up?
Alright, I’m done messing with you. Why don’t you go check on Bunny or something?