Page 122 of X's and O's
George dropped down to his knees with a howl of pain, his arm twisted up at an odd angle, still held in place by whatever ninja warrior thing Whip was doing.
I cocked my head to one side. “I didn’t know you knew how to do things like that.”
He stared at me with the same interest. “I didn’t know you were shit with guns. Why are you holding it like that?”
I had the thing pinched between two fingers like it was covered in slime or something.
I peered down at George. “Is it obvious we normally work alone?”
George just looked between the two of us with huge, terrified eyes.
I held the gun out to Whip. “Seriously, take this, would you? It’s scaring him.”
I passed it over. Whip checked something or other. The safety? The bullets? I didn’t know. And then shoved it in the back of his jeans.
George stuttered his relief at me. “Thanks, man. I—”
I pulled out my knife instead, the one I’d tried to give Violet but she hadn’t wanted. “These are so much betterthan guns. See how the handle kind of molds to my palm?” I shoved it under his nose so he could see it.
He flinched backward with a whimper.
I rolled my eyes. “Gun guys. No respect for us knife men.”
Whip crossed his arms over his chest. “If you’re finished debating the pros and cons of weapons, can we get on with this before he pisses himself?”
I stared down at poor Georgie boy, whose legs trembled. I waved my knife at him. “Don’t even fucking think about it. I hate the smell of piss.”
A dark stain spread across the man’s jeans.
A second later, the smell of it reached my nose. I slapped a hand over my mouth. “Oh, fucking hell, what did I just say?” I doubled over, dry retching.
Whip cocked his head to one side, watching me. “Can spill a man’s entrails but has a problem with piss.”
I raised my head weakly. “And vomit, if we’re keeping score.” I pointed a finger at George. “You puke and I will pass out, I swear.”
“That’s not much of a threat,” Whip said idly.
I gagged again, eye height with George. “God man, drink some fucking water! Why does it smell like that?”
Whip sighed, his patience with my stomach and George’s leaky bladder running out. He leaned down and grabbed George’s chin, which was a whole lot closer than I was going to get to him. “We just have a couple of questions, then you can go back to whatever you were doing.”
George’s expression turned sheepish. “I was jacking off actually.”
Whip and I both stared at him in horror.
“Tell me you washed your fucking hands,” I whispered.
George’s tone became defensive. “You didn’t exactly give me a chance, did you? I heard the two of you sneaking around out here and I just grabbed my gun.”
I twisted to Whip. “I touched it. After he had his hand…” I shot George a murderous glare. “I touched the penis gun.”
Gag. Gag. More gag.
Whip wiped his hand on his jeans with pure disgust on his face. “Why is this my life? Why? I could be sunning myself on a beach in Florida right now. But no. I’m here with Pukey the Ice Cream Man, with some random guy’s precum all over my hands.”
He looked at me weakly.
My expression turned smug. “You want to join me in the gag-a-thon now, don’t you?”
