Part 4 (2/2)
”Sure ting, by,” Stickman answered, as Newfoundlanders usually p.r.o.nounce boy, meant in the same context as a casual buddy. ”Sure ting.” He felt gladness for the break in the impa.s.se and returned to ogling the stripper on the stage. That glazed look returned to Stickman's face.
Lord above, Danny did not care for this little s.h.i.+t, and he made sure there were a few chairs and tables between him and the Stickman before turning his back. He knew the Newf's reputation, and he didn't like it. The Stickman was dirty in a way Danny couldn't quite put his finger on but suspected it was in the way a dog could turn on you in a flash the minute you stop feeding him like some kind of wild animal some people insisted on keeping as pets. He did not like the man, and he didn't like the way the Newf kept him on guard. You just couldn't trust freaks. He hoped Suzie wouldn't give him s.h.i.+t later for leaving the Stickman unwatched.
Stickman continued watching Suzie grind out her act on the stage that looked like a tongue. He figured that women probably had to watch their footing up there. His lips were moistened now and slightly parted. His tongue darted to and fro. He wondered if those b.r.e.a.s.t.s enjoyed being bitten-playfully, of course. He thought about Suzie having her arms outstretched and tied down to his bench press just like Christ on the cross. She probably had already done that before, though, so if Stickman offered up his c.o.c.k to her gasping mouth while she was in that predicament, there'd be no hesitation to suck him off. Yeah, he was sure she had been tied up once or twice in her life. So what could he do to liven things up for her?
On the stage, Suzie had no idea that the f.u.c.king song was as long as this. She had just stripped off her panties and covered herself with a blanket, which she would use to lay her back on as she spread out across the stage. The stage got to be as cold as f.u.c.king ice in the wintertime. She flicked her long legs up and out to keep the boys in perverts' row happy, but she knew she was being watched by him. Being watched in that way that made every dancer s.h.i.+ver and wish for the bouncers to throw the maggot out on his a.s.s.
On her back, she closed her eyes and cupped both of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and vowed to have both Danny and Boomer walk her to her car after work.
Stickman was wondering where he could buy some copper wire when Danny beckoned him over to where he stood before Tigh's door. His face was unreadable as the Stickman approached. Stickman took the opportunity to stare straight up Suzie's flexing crotch when the angle was at its best. That was one picture he would save in his mind for later when he was in the shower.
”Hold on here.” Danny told him went inside.
Stickman could do just that, turning back to Suzie's act.
Chapter 8.
Tigh's office was a small rectangular box filled with a leather sofa that ran against the far wall. A matching leather recliner was just to the left of the door, opposite the sofa and in front of the Mr. Tigh's desk. At a glance, it looked like an office out of one those high rises in Purdy's Wharf, one of the cla.s.sier business towers in Halifax. The desk was made of redwood and shone like slick ice in the light. A desk organizer was on top with p.r.i.c.kly pens and pencils waiting to be used. Tigh was on the couch, while Boomer was in the recliner. Both men were hunkered over a coffee table covered with an open pizza box, the remains of a meat lover's extra-large, and a growing row of empty beer bottles. Both men were chewing and watching the wall mounted thirty eight inch wide screen LCD TV. Neither man seemed to notice Danny.
”That guy's got s.h.i.+t in his eyes,” Boomer blasted over a half-eaten slab of pizza. ”I saw him the other night ref'in' a game between LA and Was.h.i.+ngton.”
Tigh nodded emphatically, chomping on his own and keeping his eyes on the hockey game. ”Who won?”
”Was.h.i.+ngton. Good game, too. Anyways, he practically let Lindeman get speared right in from of the net. Cheap s.h.i.+t. I bet he's suckin' off the Bettman just to stay in the league.”
”Gary?” Danny interrupted when he saw the chance. Tigh looked up from the TV, still chewing.
”You decided on who's going to work for me on Wednesday?”
”I'll give Levin a call and see if he's interested.” A small piece of something flew from Tigh's mouth. ”If he's not, I'll get Hillman. He's good.”
Boomer straightened. ”Not Roy Hillman, Gary?”
”Yeah, Roy Hillman. What's wrong with him? He's okay, ain't he?”
”Can't stand the guy,” Boomer declared. ”The man talks to his d.i.c.k.”
”What?” Tigh breathed in disbelief, wondering why Boomer always brought up such subjects while he was eating. ”f.u.c.k off, he does not.”
”He does,” Boomer nodded. ”Swear to G.o.d. Ask Danny. The man talks to his d.i.c.k. His own meat.”
”Calls it 'Leonard,'” Danny said quietly.
”See,” Boomer exclaimed, pointing a finger at Tigh. ”A sick pup if'n you ask me. I was in the can one night last year when he was filling in, and I heard him come in. He was taking a leak, and I heard him talking to his p.e.c.k.e.r. 'C'mon out Leonard,' he's goin', 'help me out here.' h.e.l.l, his f.u.c.kin' bug eyes are freaky enough without having to listen to that. Talking to his own gear!”
Tigh almost choked on his pizza. He managed to control himself and swallowed. ”You ain't going to be in the can with the man for Christ's sake. You'll be makin' your regular rounds.”
”Yeah, but just knowin' he does that sorta creeps me out, y'know? I mean, jokin' only that's fine, but he didn't know I was in there until I flushed the can,” Boomer finished in a conspirator's tone.
”What a dude does in private is not my concern,” Tigh levelled at his bouncer, his eyes s.h.i.+fting to the hockey game.
”That's just it! It was in public! It was in the washroom Gary! Our washroom! I bet he was just getting ready to grease ol' Leo up and have at 'im when I sent my chocolate torps out to sea.”
”I'm eating here!” Tigh grated and regarded the man with wide incensed eyes.
”What? I can talk about a guy's d.i.c.k and that doesn't bother you? But I mention I was squeezing some pipe, and you get all offended?” Boomer fired back, struggling not to be embarra.s.sed by this breach of protocol.
”I don't wanna hear about d.i.c.ks or s.h.i.+t or c.o.c.k-sucking or anything!”
”Who said anything about c.o.c.k-smoking?” Boomer threw out.
Tigh fixed the man with a look. ”Boomer. f.u.c.k off. Now. I mean it.”
Disgruntled. Boomer switched his attention back to the game. ”What about Lorne then?”
”Adam Lorne?” Tigh almost went into a spasm. ”You want to work with that deranged perv? Jesus Christ, I wouldn't let that f.u.c.k walk my f.u.c.kin' dog in the rain, Boom! That guy makes chickens nervous. I don't need the knots in my tables punched out by permaf.u.c.k. He's all over the girls. You forget the s.h.i.+t we went through last time? Half the reason I don't have him in here no more. All I need is another revolt by the girls.” Tigh chewed thoughtfully for a moment. ”Still, I don't have to pay Lorne to work...”
”And he doesn't talk to his d.i.c.k,” Boomer added.
”Surprised the man still has a d.i.c.k. If he does, it must be hangin' on by a thread of meat. f.u.c.k. Now, you got me grossin' myself out.” Tigh threw his pizza down.
”Gary?” Danny asked from the door.
”What?” Tigh looked up. Danny gestured to the closed door.
”Right,” Tigh muttered and wiped his face with his hand. ”So you won't work with Hillman?”
Boomer rolled his eyes.
”Why do you have to be so G.o.dd.a.m.n particular?” Tigh demanded. ”Jesus Christ! It's only one night! Alright. I'm calling in the House and I don't wanna hear not one G.o.dd.a.m.n word about him. Be f.u.c.king professional.”
That made Boomer feel just great. He shook his head slowly and let out a defeated sigh. He had traded in the whacked out Hillman and the living d.i.c.k for the war child. House wasn't the kind of man you brought in for crowd control. He was the one you called in when you had a bad case of squirrels under your roof. He was a mark or two above Levin for the fact that the man had gotten too much of the taste for hurting others, l.u.s.ted too much after the power of dispensing pain. Boomer thought the man was borderline wacko.
Maybe even psycho.
”What cha want Danny?” Tigh asked through a fresh mouth of pizza.
”Stickman here to see you,” Danny answered, and gnawed lightly on the inside of his mouth.
<script>