Chapter Twenty-Three - PAX
There’s bootprints in the spilled flour on the floor and several clumps of alfalfa hay strewn about.
My heart calms when I realize this is a setup.
That sneaky Miss Cookie. I’m gonna spank her ass cheeks red when I find her.
Which brings me to my next question. Where the fuck is she?
Hmmm… bootprints and hay. That can only mean one thing… she wants me to find her at the stable.
I grin, picturing myself throwing her down into a haystack, then fucking her wild from behind. “Game on, Miss Cookie,” I say, leaving the kitchen house. She’s teasing me, that’s what she’s doing. And I like it.
I have no idea where the fucking stable is on this island, so I stop by the house and find it empty. But out back by the pool, there’s Five’s girls dutifully taking their test.
Five is crazy and I’m not fixing this for him. He’s just gotta come around to the idea. Besides, my cookie wants her nieces close to home. I’m taking her side on this.
“Hey,” I call out to Rory. I don’t know her that well, but she’s my new sister, and I’m digging that whole aspect to this marriage stuff.
She shushes me, pointing to her girls, so I make a zipping motion at my lips and follow her inside the house. “Sorry,” she says. “I just don’t want them disturbed. This is the math part and it makes me nervous. Math was never my strong suit.”
Which makes me laugh because Five, right? “I think they’re fine,” I say. “All I need is for you to point me in the direction of the stables. Your sister has a surprise waiting for me there.”
I waggle my eyebrows, kinda forgetting she’s a girl, but Rory just laughs. “Oh, yeah. She’s full of surprises, all right. It’s that way,” Rory says, motioning over to a window that looks out on a winding path leading up a hill.
My eyes follow the trail and I feel tired already. I should not’ve gotten so drunk last night. “All the way to the top?” I ask.
“All the way to the top. It’s got the best grass up there so they can graze.”
“Of course it does,” I say. I salute her, and start humming I Wanna Be an Airborne Ranger as I head out.
“And mind the stallion!” Rory calls. “We have two mares in heat!”
“I won’t be fucking with him,” I mutter. “Just your sister.” Which makes me grin like a teenager.
By the time I’m halfway up the hill I’m sweating, cursing, too out of breath to sing, and really in need of some water.
I can see the barn and some ponies grazing in a nearby pasture. They come up to the fence lining the path and follow me like dogs. Cute fuckers. I’m trudging up the last hundred yards to the barn when I notice dirt bike tracks in fresh mud.
Which is weird because it hasn’t rained and I haven’t heard any dirt bikes on the island this morning. But just as I think that, I do hear one. Off in the distance over another ridge. Hmmm.
I keep going, hoping there’s a fridge up here at the top or a hand-pump for a well. Or whatever it takes to get a drink. Because it’s hot as hell now and I’m dehydrated as shit after drinking so much last night.
“Miss Cookie!” I call out, once I’m a little ways from the open barn doors. “Your detective is here!”
I expect some giggling or maybe a fake scream, but nothing. Just the clopping of hooves as the ponies trot back and forth near the fence, put off when I leave them behind.
That’s when I smell gasoline.
Jesus, it’s strong. I look around, trying to figure out where it’s coming from and spy an old rag on the ground. There’s more bootprints, more dirt bike-tracks, and on a open door leading out the back, some oily fingerprints.
“Cindy?” I call out. “Cinderella? You here, babe?”
Nothing.
Huh. There’s no fridge that I can see, so I wander out of the barn and go looking for water. Out in the pasture I spy a hand-pump, so I jump the fence and slip between the two friendly ponies, who are now very interested in my pockets because they probably figure I’ve got treats.
I brush them aside, but they follow me all the way over to the water. I pump the handle a few times to get the flow going and I’m just about to bend down and drink when I hear a snort and the tell-tale pawing of a hoof.
I glance over my shoulder and see a beautiful golden pony about fifty yards away. “Hey there, pretty lady. You thirsty too?”
And that’s when I realize… it’s not a lady, it’s a fella. And these two cute girls who’ve been following me are his mares. In heat.
I put my hand up because this is the universal gesture of surrender—for all species, as far as I know—and maybe I’m no horse expert, but I grew up on a breeding farm and if there’s one thing I do know about them, it’s that you do not fuck with a stallion. Even when he’s only four feet tall.
“Cindy!” I yell. “If you’re here, come save me from this tiny maniac!”
He charges me.
She never shows.
So I run.
I’m right at the fence, practically over it, when his teeth grab the flesh of my arm. I pull away instinctively, and hurl myself over the top rail. But that crazy little fucker still has a hold of my shirt, so I have to slip out of it to get the rest of the way over, and I land in a heap in the grass.
Golden Balls rears up like he’s fucking king of the world, and snorts through his nose like he really wants to jump this fence and kill my ass.
Jesus.
I get up, flip him off, and then feel a whole lot better about shit since losing my shirt is probably a good thing. I’m hot as hell.
I glance over at the water, thirsty as all fuck, but then decide… I can wait. Obviously Cindy left me those dirt bike clues. Which means she’s up wherever Five keeps them. I look over at the ridge where I heard the sound of riders a few minutes ago, and decide I might as well head in that direction.
I glance at the back of my arm and see teeth marks. Motherfucker bit me.
He and I exchange glares as I leave and I make a V with my fingers and point to my eyes, then him. “I’m watching you, Golden Balls.”
I’m pretty sure the noise that comes out of his mouth is a laugh.
Fucking ponies.
The ridge doesn’t look higher than the stable, but it is. Because I’m huffing my ass off as I walk up the slope. When I get to the top I expect to see a garage. A shed. Something that tells me, this is where we keep the dirt bikes.
Nothing but another fucking ridge.
So I trudge up that one too, and by this time, I might actually be dying of thirst. Like… dying.
When I get to the top, halle-fucking-lujah, there it is. There’s two bikes parked outside. Little mini ones, like kids ride. But the door is wide open and I can hear music coming from inside. Electric Worry, by Clutch. Kind of an angry song if you ask me.
“Cindy?” I call out. But by this time, I’ve pretty much given up hope so I’m not surprised to find the place empty, save for a giant mud puddle in the center of the garage with something floating on top of it.
I’m so fucking thirsty I might get down on my hands and knees and slurp it up.
I grab the floating thing instead. It’s one of those bobbing keychains people use for boats, and it’s got two keys on it.
She’s at the marina? Are you fucking kidding me right now? That’s like… so far away. That’s when I spy the sink in the corner.
Yes! Finally, some good luck!
I practically run over there, turn the water on and… see the sign above the faucet. Non Potable Water—Do Not Drink! ‘Do not drink’ has been underlined like a million times.
I consider how sick I’ll get if I drink it anyway, and then decide I’m getting married tomorrow and I don’t want the hassle this risk brings with it.
I look at the key in my hand and realize it’s got a name on it. Louise.
Then I look at the two bikes out in front and smile. Because I think I have a key to one of those bikes and I’m gonna ride that fucker down to the marina and I’ll be hydrated and kicking back on a boat in ten minutes.
I can handle ten more minutes.
I get on the bike, trying my best to ignore the fact that it was made for a five-year-old, and insert the key. There’s a moment, right before I turn the ignition, that I think to myself, It’s broken. It’s not gonna turn on. It’s a setup. I’m gonna have to walk all the way back to the beach and I’m gonna die along the way. But none of that happens. Because the engine turns over and I laugh. I laugh loud and I say, “Fuck, yes!”
I take off, still screaming, my knees all the way up to my elbows as I ride the tiny bike over the first ridge, then the second, and then I flip off Golden Balls as I whiz by.
Day made.
The hill looks a lot steeper going down than it did going up, and I give myself mental props for dealing so well, seeing as I’m still hungover, dehydrated, and on my way to a hell of a sunburn since I lost my shirt.
The path is winding and diverts away from the house towards the marina. I crane my neck, desperate for sight of the dock, and then I see it and whoop again.
I’m there. I’m fucking there, baby. “I’m coming, Miss Cookie! And I’m gonna spank you good for this wild-goose—”
The engine sputters.
I look down at the gas gauge and yell, “Nooooooooo!”
The engine dies.
I coast as far as I can, but there’s one more hill… and I just stop at the bottom and look up.
Defeated.
“You win!” I yell. I’m not sure what her point is to all this bullshit, but fuck it. I scream it anyway. “You win!”
The only answer I get is the sound of a boat leaving the marina and I swear to God, if Cindy just took off in a boat and expects me to follow her…
Well, I’ll spank her twice as hard when I get a hold of her perfect round ass. Because I will catch her. She’s not getting away.
In fact my energy is back, so I get off the stupid kid bike and push it up and over the last hill, and then I sit on it side-saddle style and coast down to the boat house.
Inside I hear… The Beach Boys. And what might be a fan going full speed. Then ice clinking in a glass, and I can’t take it anymore. I get off the bike and burst through the door, ready to give Cinderella the spanking of her life, and then… and then I see her.
Naked. Sipping something cold and fruity. And holding another glass out for me. “Took you long enough, Detective. I’m practically drunk.”
She’s got on a hat, white sunglasses, and there’s a mister in front of the fan, spritzing her lightly with water.
“You’re a very bad girl, Miss Cookie.” I growl out the words.
“I was kidnapped this morning,” she says, lowering her sunglasses and opening her legs at the same time.
“By whom?” I ask, slightly less pissed off than I was a second ago.
“I’m not sure. I didn’t get a good look at him, Detective. But he held me hostage in a cookie factory until he heard you were coming to save me.”
“Let me guess, he took you up to the stable after that.”
“He did,” she coos.
“That fucking pony bit me!” I say, showing her the back of my arm.
“Oh, you poor baby. I’m gonna kiss it all better. In fact, I’m gonna kiss everything all better.” She pokes her tongue against the inside of her cheek and I laugh.
“You dirty little bitch.”
“And then,” she says, still using her fake Miss Cookie voice, “then he took me up to the garage and was gonna tie me up and leave me there forever. Until he figured out you hadn’t given up.”
“I lost my shirt to that crazy midget horse. I’m fucking sunburned as all hell.”
“I’m gonna rub sunscreen and lotion all over you, Detective. And I do mean… all over you.”
Yeah, that sounds kinda fun. “And then that stupid bike was twelve sizes too small and I ran out of gas on the way down!”
“Don’t worry,” she whispers. “I’ve got enough fuel for both of us. I’ll do all the work. I’ll get on my hands and knees if I have to.”
Fuck, yeah.
“And you got here in the nick of time.”
“Why’s that?” I ask, plopping down beside her. Her breasts are bare and her nipples hard and erect. Just like my cock.
“Because I was just about to give up hope and pleasure myself.”
“Well,” I say, looking away, then at her again. “You can still do that.”
We both laugh this time.
But then she stops and her face gets all serious. Like she’s worried about me. God, I hate it when she worries about me. “What’s wrong with you?” she asks.
“Me? You’re the crazy one who sent me on a wild-goose chase today! And where did you get all that blood in the kitchen house?”
“Oh, the cookie factory, you mean? Please, Paxton Vance. My family ran a haunted house for years. You don’t think I know how to cook up some fake blood?”
“Right,” I say, all my bullshit complaints fading fast. “Forgot about that.”
“But seriously, Pax. What’s the problem?”
“I don’t have a problem.”
“You got drunk last night. Really drunk last night. And you were singing an army song. Some might be wondering if you really wanted to marry me, or if you’d rather spend the rest of your life dealing with blood and danger.”
“Ahh,” I say, understanding now. “That’s why you did this? You think I’m gonna miss it?”
“Will you?”
“Fuck, no,” I say, scooting in close to her. “Fuck, no. I’m not worried about that.”
“Then what?”
I sigh. Wondering if I should tell her what I did. Wondering what everyone will think of me when they find out.
“Pax, just tell me what’s on your mind. You know I love you, right?”
“I know,” I say.
“Then tell me what’s wrong.”
I sigh. Long and loud. “I did something bad, Cindy.”
“How bad?” she asks.
I look up at her and shrug. “Pretty bad.”
She pouts her lips. “Well, you’ve killed people before and didn’t act this way. And I know you didn’t cheat on me, so that can’t be it.”
“Cheat?” My laugh is so loud, it echoes off the ceiling. “Fuck, no, I didn’t cheat.”
“So what is it?”
“She’s gonna hate me, Cindy.”
“Who?”
“My mother.”
“Why?”
“Because I did something she was one hundred percent totally against.”
“I’m gonna punch you in the sunburn if you don’t tell me what’s going on right now.”
“I invited my father to the wedding,” I say. “And he’ll be here tonight.”