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“Thank you, doctor.” With dignity, Terry Marie
straightened her clothing and glared into Benny's smug face. “I assure
you,” she said to the doctor, “there was little pain. Unlike some I could
mention, you are a master at the art of surgery.”
“If there was any pain, you should have let me
kiss it away.”
“Shut up, Benny.” Terry Marie huffed at him.
“Bite me, why don't you?”
He tried, but she wouldn't let him.
Terry Marie threw her arms around Benny for what
they both knew had to be the final time.
“I love you, you runty little creep,” she said
and blinked fiercely at the tears. He patted her back.
“You dog, you,” Terry Marie cried in fury and
tried to resnap her brazier.
With a deep blush, Benny muttered an apology. “I .
. . sorry. Old habit, I guess. When I'm with you,” he said, his words
plaintive, his eye greedy, “it's all I can think of, ok?”
At that melting look, she sighed. He pulled her into
a deep hug, one he was reluctant to release her from until on instinct her leg
wrapped itself around his buttocks.
“Lady,” he gasped for breath, “any more of
that and you'll embarrass us both.” He whipped off his jacket to cover his
front.
She looked smug.
Mike yanked her away and hugged her, his eyes dark
and angry on Benny's bright, stark face.
“Sis, if only there was a way to stop all this-”
“Shut it, Mike. I'm having this baby. I want it
with all my being.” Terry Marie stroked the slight bulge where her child
fluttered under her heart. She touched Mike's drawn and paled face. “Be
happy for me. Please?”
“I wish they'd cut his balls off.”
“They tried,” Benny said. His feet spread apart
in an arrogant stance. “You people tried, but you ain't made me a camel
jockey yet, fudge packer.”
“Fuck you, Greylov.”
“Not even if you brought the k-jell, fag.”
“Stop it,” Taylor hissed. She thrust herself
between them and grabbed Mike's arm. “Cool it, or the ASPers will get us.”
Her narrowed liquid eyes scanned the crowded depot for the agents of the
secret police.
Mike let her drag him to the bus. Jamison pulled
Terry Marie from Benny with a gentle smile at the cold anger in the boy's face
and eye.
“You be cool, son. Keep a watch out, now.” He
cleared his throat. “Your night-sun is down in DC, behind a house on 8th and
McKinley. Ask for Downy, she'll give you the keys.”
©2003 StoriesByEmail.com
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