and
waited for his tail to show.
Within a couple of seconds, the footsteps
brought a figure with a sweatshirt hood pulled over his head. For a
moment, the person seemed lost, searching for the man who had
suddenly vanished into thin air.
“You looking for someone?” Cynical
whispered.
The hood snapped around; two eyes widening
with the realization that the person he was following was now
behind him.
Cynical couldn’t quite make out the shadowy
features, although what he saw didn’t look familiar. He didn’t have
long to place the face anyway. The young man’s hand was emerging
from the kangaroo pocket of his sweatshirt, the flicker of a blue
charge dancing above his finger and thumb.
It was a stun gun, and it was coming his
way.
CHAPTER
26
As the electrical charge rose toward his
chest, Cynical briefly flashed on his tasering at the Mirage. That
wasn’t going to happen again, not if he could help it.
A split second later, he blocked the hand
away and simultaneously tossed a right jab into the middle of the
darkened hood. Instantly, the head snapped back - taking the rest
of the body with it. Glancing off a parking meter, the would-be
assailant fell to the sidewalk in a heap.
Bending down, Cynical picked up the stun gun
lying a few feet from the open hand. The attacker-turned-victim
groaned and muttered incoherently as his eyelids flickered open.
Pulling the hood back revealed a young, thin face with long,
tangled hair and a straggly beard. A trickle of blood found its way
from the hawkish beak into the facial hair.
“What do you want?”
Cynical asked. “Why were you following me?”
The kid merely shook
his head.
Unsure whether he was
being obstinate or still clearing the cobwebs, Cynical raised the
stun gun to the fuzzy face.
“Okay,” he said, holding out his hands in
surrender. “I heard you were asking about Karen.”
“Yeah, so?”
“So,” he managed a shrug from his supine
position. “I’m protecting her.”
“Who are you?”
“Me? I’m Desmond Traylor,” he said, as if
stating the obvious. “Michael’s partner.”
“Well, I guess we work for the same guy
then,” Cynical said, wanting to see how much this guy actually
knew.
“You work for Michael too?” Desmond asked,
confused.
“No, Michael’s boss,” Cynical said. “His
investor.”
With a wrinkled brow, it took a second for
Desmond to finally utter, “Mancuso?”
“Correcto.”
“A lot of people are looking for us right
now,” Desmond said, wincing as he dabbed at his nose with the
sleeve of his hoodie. “We can’t be too careful.”
Instead of inquiring how using a stun-gun on
strangers was being careful, Cynical asked the only question he
really wanted to know at the moment. “Where’s Karen?”
“She safe,” Desmond insisted.
“Take me to her.”
The blue charge on the stun gun illuminated
Desmond’s face as he began to nod enthusiastically. “Yeah, okay,
okay. It’s just a mile from here.”
Not trusting the kid any further than he
could punch him, Cynical gripped his arm and pulled him up to his
feet. Putting the stun gun against his lower back, he escorted
Desmond the rest of the way to his car, where he was pleased to
find it had all the same dings and scratches it had when he left
it.
Unlocking the doors, he shoved the kid into
the passenger seat. Keeping the stun gun with him, he went over to
the driver’s side, got in and started the car.
“Now, where are we going?”
“Go to the end of this block,” Desmond said,
seemingly resigned to cooperating. “Then take a left on
Venice.”
After a short distance on the thoroughfare,
the nervous kid pointed up ahead. “Turn right on
6 th .”
Cynical did as he was told, heading back into
a shady neighbor of rental homes and apartments. “So, why’s she
shacking up with you?”
“Because she’s scared and she doesn’t want to
be alone,” Desmond said defensively. “Make a left up here.” A twist
and turn later,
waited for his tail to show.
Within a couple of seconds, the footsteps
brought a figure with a sweatshirt hood pulled over his head. For a
moment, the person seemed lost, searching for the man who had
suddenly vanished into thin air.
“You looking for someone?” Cynical
whispered.
The hood snapped around; two eyes widening
with the realization that the person he was following was now
behind him.
Cynical couldn’t quite make out the shadowy
features, although what he saw didn’t look familiar. He didn’t have
long to place the face anyway. The young man’s hand was emerging
from the kangaroo pocket of his sweatshirt, the flicker of a blue
charge dancing above his finger and thumb.
It was a stun gun, and it was coming his
way.
CHAPTER
26
As the electrical charge rose toward his
chest, Cynical briefly flashed on his tasering at the Mirage. That
wasn’t going to happen again, not if he could help it.
A split second later, he blocked the hand
away and simultaneously tossed a right jab into the middle of the
darkened hood. Instantly, the head snapped back - taking the rest
of the body with it. Glancing off a parking meter, the would-be
assailant fell to the sidewalk in a heap.
Bending down, Cynical picked up the stun gun
lying a few feet from the open hand. The attacker-turned-victim
groaned and muttered incoherently as his eyelids flickered open.
Pulling the hood back revealed a young, thin face with long,
tangled hair and a straggly beard. A trickle of blood found its way
from the hawkish beak into the facial hair.
“What do you want?”
Cynical asked. “Why were you following me?”
The kid merely shook
his head.
Unsure whether he was
being obstinate or still clearing the cobwebs, Cynical raised the
stun gun to the fuzzy face.
“Okay,” he said, holding out his hands in
surrender. “I heard you were asking about Karen.”
“Yeah, so?”
“So,” he managed a shrug from his supine
position. “I’m protecting her.”
“Who are you?”
“Me? I’m Desmond Traylor,” he said, as if
stating the obvious. “Michael’s partner.”
“Well, I guess we work for the same guy
then,” Cynical said, wanting to see how much this guy actually
knew.
“You work for Michael too?” Desmond asked,
confused.
“No, Michael’s boss,” Cynical said. “His
investor.”
With a wrinkled brow, it took a second for
Desmond to finally utter, “Mancuso?”
“Correcto.”
“A lot of people are looking for us right
now,” Desmond said, wincing as he dabbed at his nose with the
sleeve of his hoodie. “We can’t be too careful.”
Instead of inquiring how using a stun-gun on
strangers was being careful, Cynical asked the only question he
really wanted to know at the moment. “Where’s Karen?”
“She safe,” Desmond insisted.
“Take me to her.”
The blue charge on the stun gun illuminated
Desmond’s face as he began to nod enthusiastically. “Yeah, okay,
okay. It’s just a mile from here.”
Not trusting the kid any further than he
could punch him, Cynical gripped his arm and pulled him up to his
feet. Putting the stun gun against his lower back, he escorted
Desmond the rest of the way to his car, where he was pleased to
find it had all the same dings and scratches it had when he left
it.
Unlocking the doors, he shoved the kid into
the passenger seat. Keeping the stun gun with him, he went over to
the driver’s side, got in and started the car.
“Now, where are we going?”
“Go to the end of this block,” Desmond said,
seemingly resigned to cooperating. “Then take a left on
Venice.”
After a short distance on the thoroughfare,
the nervous kid pointed up ahead. “Turn right on
6 th .”
Cynical did as he was told, heading back into
a shady neighbor of rental homes and apartments. “So, why’s she
shacking up with you?”
“Because she’s scared and she doesn’t want to
be alone,” Desmond said defensively. “Make a left up here.” A twist
and turn later,
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