Knife & Flesh (The Night Horde SoCal Book 4) (29 page)

The moth tattoo always made her think about that old movie,
The Silence of the Lambs
. She couldn’t help it; it was her only other reference for the moth. Thinking about the movie now, and realizing that she was rubbing lotion into Trick’s skin, she laughed.

He lifted his head. “What’s funny?”

“Hey—relax. You’ll undo my hard work.” She pushed his head back down. “I was looking at your tattoo.”

“You are fixated, Jules. I’m not the only guy in the world with some ink.”

“C’mon, it’s a lot of ink. And they’re like the book of you. I love them all. But I laughed because this one makes me think of”—she did her best Buffalo Bill voice—“‘It rubs the lotion on its skin.’”

“Okay,” he chuckled. “That is the opposite of hot.”

“I know, sorry. I’ll do sexy things now instead.” Making good on her word, she folded forward, brushing the tips of her breasts over his back, and nuzzling her nose against his ear. “This better?”

It was good for her, definitely, and she did it again, and again, her moan echoing his.

“Jules…” He tried to roll beneath her, but she settled more securely on his ass and pushed his shoulders down.

“Nope. Not yet. I don’t want to stop touching you.” She filled her palm with lotion again and smoothed her hands down his spine.

She massaged his back, his sides, his arms, his hands, relishing the way his body felt in her palms and under her fingers. Then she shifted off his ass and massaged his legs, pushing her thumbs into each hamstring and calf. He groaned deeply, sensuously, with each breath.

“Jules…” he moaned again, and this time he rolled to his back and held out his hands. “Jules.”

Either still or again, he was hard. Crawling up along his side, she reached for his cock, but, lightning-quick, he grabbed her wrist and pulled. “No. Come here.”

As she straddled his hips again, he held himself steady, and she took him into her body until he arched up with a deep groan. She rested on him, and he sat up, holding her close. She fed her hands into his hair, and they stared at each other. In his eyes, Juliana saw everything she wanted.

Tears leaked into her vision again, and he frowned, his hand moving between them so that his finger could brush one away. “Hey, love. What is it?”

“I just love you.”

“God, I love you.” He brought her head down and covered her mouth with his, and then she flexed her hips, and they began their dance.

~oOo~

“Wait until you see this, Luce.” Trick set Lucie on the ground and closed the door to Juliana’s Nissan. “It’s going to rock your world.” He took one hand, and Juliana took the other, and they walked like a family through the parking lot, toward the Griffith Observatory.

Juliana had been to the Observatory a couple of times, long ago, when she was a girl. But she’d never taken Lucie. Her daughter’s obsession with astronomy was less than a year old, and it had been a complicated time, without many opportunities for day trips to Los Angeles.

When they got into the building, Lucie stopped short and looked up, her eyes and mouth open wide. “There are pictures on the ceiling!” she rasped in a whisper that wasn’t quiet at all. She shook their hands loose and hugged Trick’s leg. “Thank you, Trick! I love the ob-er-vatory!”

Trick looked happier than Juliana had ever seen him as he crouched at her daughter’s side and hugged her back. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

“Don’t say ain’t. It’s a wrong word.” Still she spoke in that loud whisper, like she thought she needed to be quiet but couldn’t manage it.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay. Everybody makes mistakes.”

The Observatory had only been open a few minutes, but it was Saturday in Los Angeles, so a crowd had begun to mass. Trick stood up. “I need to buy tickets for the planetarium, and then we can see everything.”

“What’s a planet-arium?”

“Can it be a surprise?”

Lucie nodded and hugged Trick again. “Okay. Surprises are good. They’re like presents of fun.”

Trick looked up at Juliana, his smile wide and open and his eyes lively with light.

While Trick went up to the desk in the center of the domed, marble room, Juliana picked Lucie up.

She stretched her little hands up high toward the frescoed ceiling. “How did they reach to make the pictures, Mami?”

“I think maybe they used special platforms, Lulu, like floors that go up high.”

Lucie nodded wisely, like she was thinking
of course, what else would they do?

Trick came back. “Okay. We’re all set. Let’s see everything.”

The first thing they saw was the Foucault pendulum. Trick led Lucie right up as close as they could get to it and crouched at her side. Pulling her between his legs, with his arms around her, he pointed and explained, “This is called a Foucault’s pendulum. Something just like this was the first thing that proved how the Earth rotates.”

Lucie looked over her shoulder at him. “Every day is one rotation of the Earth. When it moves around the Sun, that’s called
revolving
and it takes one year.” She said it as if she were reciting—which she was, nearly, from one of her favorite books.

“That’s right. Smart girl. Scientists knew about rotation, but they hadn’t been able to prove it until a man named Foucault made one of these. And the way it moves around the table under it proved that the Earth is spinning.”

“Scientists are smart. I want to be a scientist.”

“I think you would make a very good scientist.”

She gave him that serious, sage nod. “Uh-huh. Because I’m smart and like science. Is there a telescope here?”

“There is. There’s a great big one, and a bunch of others, too. But it’s daytime, so we can’t see stars. Not that way.”

“Can we come at nighttime sometime?”

“We definitely can. There’s lots more to see today, though. You want to?”

“Yeah! Mami, come on!”

Juliana had stood quietly and observed Trick and Lucie, who had had no need of her in those moments. They were like father and daughter, caught up completely in each other. The depth of emotion she felt stunned her, and with it, a deep need rose in her chest.

“Mami!”

She came out of her happy reverie and smiled down at her little girl. Taking her hand, she went with her family into the next room.

They went through the Hall of the Eye, the Hall of the Sky, and the Space Hall, Lucie exclaiming loudly at every new marvel, and Trick stopping and explaining everything she was interested in and answering every question he knew the answer to. When he didn’t know the answer, they went off and found a docent.

They’d all but forgotten about her, but she couldn’t have cared less. Standing back and watching them was making this day one of the best Juliana had had in as long as she could remember. She could feel the details of her life filling in.

When they’d been through all the halls, they went outside. Trick pointed out interesting details of the building, and they stood looking out over the city below.

Then it was time to go into the planetarium. Lucie looked around, curious and quiet. When they sat, she asked, “Are we seeing a movie?”

“It’s something like a movie, yes,” Juliana answered. “Just wait, and you’ll see.”

The show started, and Juliana watched her daughter as the ceiling filled with outer space. Lucie leaned back in her seat, looking completely stunned. The show was a basic planetarium show, casting the night sky onto the ceiling and pointing out the major constellations, showing the Milky Way, the planets. But Lucie had never seen anything like it.

As Juliana watched in the near dark, a little streak of gleam trickled down Lucie’s cheek. She jumped a little in her seat and put her hand up to brush it away. Then she leaned over to her and whispered, “Mami, look.” She held up her wet finger. “I’m crying but I’m not sad. My tears are broken.”

Trick heard her and turned, his face tight with concern. Juliana smiled and shook her head—no worries here.

She put her arm around Lucie and pulled her close. “Sometimes, when we’re really, really happy, we cry, too.” She wiped at her own cheek and showed her the gleam of wet on her fingertip. “See?”

“Oh. Happy tears?”

Juliana nodded.

“Okay. I have happy tears. Because this is my favorite place in the whole world.”

Juliana kissed her daughter’s head and looked at Trick. Even in the dark theater, she could see him mouth the words
I love you.

Trick opened his eyes and found Lucie staring at him. Reflexively, he grabbed at the covers and made sure all the important stuff was under them—and then remembered that he slept in boxer briefs now. He looked over his shoulder and saw Juliana sleeping quietly, on her belly, his t-shirt bunched around her upper back. He pulled it down, careful not to wake her, and turned back to Lucie.

“Hey, muffin. Problem?” By the light seeping in through the blinds, he could tell that dawn hadn’t quite happened yet. Nobody had to get up for an hour, at least.

“A spider was in my bed,” she whispered. Lucie wasn’t very good at whispering. “I don’t like spiders. They wiggle.” She squeezed Mr. Bananas tightly. “It ran away and I don’t know where it is but I don’t want it in my bed ever again.”

“Okay.” He sat up and turned the covers back. “I’ll go find it. You want to get in bed here?”

She nodded, and as he stood, she climbed into the warm spot he’d just left. As she turned onto her side and started to snuggle in, he pushed gently on her bottom. “Scoot in, Luce. Leave room for me.”

She scooted to the center, tucking her head to her mother’s still-sleeping body, and Trick went off spider hunting.

It was a wolf spider, and it took Trick about fifteen minutes to root the little scamp out. He caught it in a glass and took it outside, releasing it among the yucca plants in one of the complex’s halfhearted landscaping areas. Then, for a minute, he stood and was still. The light of the coming morning was diffuse, and a heavy dew from the nearby mountains gave the air weight. As hot as the day would get by late afternoon, mornings were cool.

The complex was quiet; the residents slept through these last minutes before the day. Trick felt good. Every morning for the past while, he’d woken feeling good. And not alone.

The nightmares still pestered and sickened him, but their power didn’t linger. And he thought they were becoming less frequent. He felt calmer. Talking to Connor, and having Juliana and Lucie—these changes had been therapeutic. He felt less alone. He was
not
alone.

He went back into Juliana’s apartment, where he’d spent every night since he’d come back from the Oakland run, and slid back into bed with his family. Lucie turned and threw her arm over his neck, and he tucked her and her sock monkey under his chin and closed his eyes.

~oOo~

Usually, the guys working the shop sent the Prospect out for lunch, and usually it was fast food—bags full of burgers and French fries and onion rings. As a vegetarian, Trick had eaten more than his share of crappy, wilted salads, which was the only option at most burger joints.

Every once in a while, though, Bibi would come in and either make lunch in the clubhouse or bring it in from a nicer restaurant. On those days, Trick could at least expect a better class of salad.

Since the fire last year, that had hardly happened at all. While Hoosier was in the hospital and then the care center, obviously Bibi’s attention was with him. And after that, Connor and Cordero’s wedding had dominated seemingly every thought in every female head in the club.

One day late in September, a little more than a month after the wedding, on a quiet day when everybody was in town, doing their straight jobs, Bibi came in with Maria and Sharon, the two most established club girls, and laid down a real spread for lunch. The main entrée was a dead animal, of course—a big hunk of roast—but Bibi had made sure there was plenty for Trick, too, including her brilliant zucchini lasagna.

They brought out the portable banquet table, and the clubhouse had an air of a holiday. The club was in a good place: prosperous and stable, all of their different work running as it ought. There had been no cause for real violence, other than the recreational sort, in nearly a year. Even their meet with Ferguson, despite the deep bad blood between them, had been peaceful. They’d found the balance point.

Trick felt relaxed in a way that was new to him. Even his personal instabilities seemed to have leveled, both those in his mind and those in his life. Mark Stiles had resigned himself to Trick’s presence in Lucie’s life. La Zorra had made no further indications of interest in him, nor had she sought redress for any slight she might have felt. And his bout with the demon that was PTSD seemed to have gone its rounds, and he’d won—not a knockout, but a win on points was good enough.

Their last time in the Keep, Hoosier had, in his still-halting way, waxed eloquent on history, reminding those who’d been there, and enlightening those who had not, about the past, the last time the club had been both outlaw and stable. He’d cautioned them all not to grow complacent, that stability in a world like theirs could never be counted on. And then he’d encouraged them all to enjoy it.