“Gumby?” he said with no response just as four police cars came screaming down the street, skidding to a stop in front of the truck yard.
“Oh, fuck.” Screw collapsed forward with his hands on his knees trying to stave the nausea.
“We can’t stay,” Rocket said as he pulled the door closed. “Drive, Jig.” A hand landed on Screw’s shoulder. “We won’t go far, and we’ll come back for him.”
“He’ll be in fucking jail.”
Christ, he’d just sent his man to jail. He was going to puke. What would he tell Jazz? How would he get through the day knowing Gumby was behind bars and possibly suffering? He and Jazz were the best parts of Screw’s day.
Fuck, the best parts of his life.
THE SIRENS GREW in intensity until it became obvious they were right outside the trucking yard, then they cut off.
In his peripheral vision, Gumby could see flashing red and blue.
He was pretty much fucked. If by some miracle the cops didn’t get him, Screw would have his ass for sure. And not in the way he’d promised would blow his mind, and his load.
Jesus, he was spending too much time with Screw and his raunchy mind.
“Come on, come on,” he whispered as the last of the gasoline poured into the tank.
Yanking the canister out, he made to run…somewhere, when a hand grabbed the back of his shirt. “Get in the cab,” LJ whispered as he unlocked the door and practically tossed Gumby in. “Fold your big fucking body up and stay outta sight until I come get you.” He ripped the comm unit out of Gumby’s ear and stashed it in his pocket.
LJ shut the door as soundlessly as possible while Gumby wedged his six-foot-four frame under the steering wheel. He might never be able to unwind, but if it kept him off the cops’ radar he’d happily live as a bent and crooked man.
“Good evening, officers.” LJ’s booming voice sounded through the quiet yard. “I’m working security tonight.”
“We got an emergency call from the alarm company. Cameras cut out. We’re gonna need you to let us search the premises, sir. And we’ll need to see your clearance paperwork.”
“Sure, yes, of course,” LJ said as he used a jangling keychain to unlock the chain-link gate. Gumby could barely hear it rolling open on the squeaky tract over the blood rushing in his ears.
“Here you go.” LJ said. “My company ID. Feel free to look around, but…uh…this was totally my fault. It’s only my third night and I fucked up with the cameras. Thought I had the hang of it, but…”
The guy deserved an Oscar for the way he made himself sound so sheepish and embarrassed, Gumby could picture the mountain of a man rubbing the back of his neck as he stared at the ground in defeat.
Silence fell. Gumby held his breath as he waited to hear whether the cop bought LJ’s act. His knees and ankles began to ache from the kinked-up way he’d wedged himself beneath the steering wheel. Hopefully nothing a little Motrin and a hot shower couldn’t fix later on.
Of course, if he ended up spending the night in a jail cell…
“Look, buddy, we’re gonna scope the place out because we have to. Part of the protocol when the alarm company contacts us. If you fuck up again, just give them a call. They’ll either talk you through the problem or fix it from their end. Save us all a whole lot of trouble, yeah?”
“Yes, sir. I’m so sorry for the inconvenience. I didn’t want my boss to think I couldn’t handle the job.”
“Sure, whatever. We’ll look around then be out of your hair.”
“Okay, thank you. Let me know if you need anything from me.”
Footsteps sounded, but they were too light to be LJ’s. The big guy most likely stayed in the yard to see if his lies held up.
“That guy’s a fucking idiot,” one of the cops mumbled way too close to Gumby for comfort.
“Tell me about it. Fucking up our night cuz he’s too prideful to call the alarm company and ask for help. Let’s get this shit over with,” a deeper voice, the one who’d been talking to LJ said.
“What do you want us to do? Look in all the trucks?”
Sweat trickled down Gumby’s spine, causing a maddening itch. He bit his lower lip—hard. Maybe the pain would override the compelling urge to rub the irritation off his back. They’d discover him for sure and he’d be up shit’s creek.
“Fuck, no. I ain’t wasting any more time on this nonsense than absolutely necessary. Check around and under the trucks. That’s it. Then we get the hell outta here.”
“Got it, boss.”
Gumby’s eyes fell closed and he concentrated on slow, even, quiet breathing. Ignoring the discomfort in his joints grew harder by the second as the annoying ache progressed to an extreme burning sensation.