Hunter continued to make us coffee. “Do you remember The Bacon Dance?”
I thought of York wiggling his hips, thrusting his crotch, and wagging his tongue. “How could I ever get the Bacon Dance out of my mind? It was the only move York knew.”
Hunter laughed.
We continued to work around the kitchen, helping each other, here and there. We chatted, reminiscing about our past. We also talked about the future, being careful to not discuss the biggest topic hanging over us.
What will happen to us next?
There really wasn’t much time to think. We just allowed ourselves the time to enjoy each other, even while some sicko lurked in the dark and tried to cause terror in every moment of my day.
Not today. He won’t have my day.
We ate that morning, and Hunter slipped back into his morning routine—tai-chi on the balcony as he took in the sun rising over the city. I joined him, following the slow lazy movements. I’d done yoga, but this was different. Letting my breaths slowly slip in and out of my body further pushed my anxiety away.
When we finished, he made us both two cups of tea, and then we both had two very, very expensive cigarettes.
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.” He lit my cigarette. “This is a bad idea.”
“Why? Are they that good?”
“You’ll see.” I tried it, breathing in the exotic mixture of herbs and specially dried tobacco. Perfumed smoke left my nostrils. My body hummed with an odd sensation. I blew out a little more. “Yes, this was a bad idea.”
“Love it?” He lit his.
“Yes.”
He blew out smoke. “Well, too bad. I won’t let you pick up the habit.”
I frowned. “We’ll just finish the pack.”
He shook his head and slung the pack over the balcony. With my mouth open, I watched it fall several stories down. “Wow. How much was that?”
“Close to a thousand. I’m glad I had you smoke with me.” He blew out more smoke. “Giving you one of my cigarettes was just the motivation I needed to quit.”
I inhaled more of it, relishing in the wave of new sensations. “Yeah. I can see how this could be addictive.”
“The first few cigarettes are only good. The rest are just to keep the addiction going. That’s why I hate companies like Natural Health cigarettes who try to pretend like their brand is healthier than the others.”
“The world is crazy like that.” I looked out on the city.
He put out his cigarette. “Yeah. This time, my quitting will work.”
“You barely smoked as it is.”
“Still, I’ve always cared about you more than I care about myself. That’s how I know it will work. If I’m around you, I won’t want you picking up my cigarette habit.”
“Hunter…”
“What?” he asked as if not knowing how much he could take my breath away with just a few statements.
“Nothing.” I put my cigarette out and hugged him. “I just love you so much.”
27
My Pussy
Hunter
I called Stark. “Anything?” I asked.
“That’s interesting,” Stark said. “I’m tracking you. It says you’re in Hong Kong.”
I shrugged. “China’s beautiful at this time of year.”
He chuckled. “Make sure to grab me some tea.”
“I will.” I walked off onto the balcony and left Zola reading in the hotel suite. “Anything on the paint?”
“Not yet. It’s with the lab.”
“How are Baptiste and Meridian?”
“Nothing out of order. Meridian never left his room, but he never does. The man creeps me out.”
“And what about Baptiste?” I asked.
“Determined to find Zola’s stalker. Early this morning, he was on the case, moving forward with the investigation like usual.” Stark lowered his voice. “I followed Baptiste as soon as he left the hotel. It was interesting. He was following Zola’s friend, CiCi. She went into a brothel.”
“Did he go in?”
“No. He waited outside and followed her to her place, watched her for a little, wrote down some notes, and left. When we met in the hotel, Baptiste gave me all the pages of notes I’d watched him jot down.”
“Good. What did you think of Baptiste’s notes?”
“The friend, CiCi, might know something. The guy that owns the brothel is named Mr. Moon.”
“Baptiste thought that was CiCi’s pimp.”
“Well, Moon has a lot of assault charges and two women claimed he raped them. One woman was found dead after she filed the police report. Not a nice guy at all.”
“Moon could have something to do with Zola.”
“He could. When Baptiste left the brothel, I rushed back home. He found me in the living room, panting of course. Baptiste let me know his suspicions about CiCi and the brothel owner.”
Everything checked out with Baptiste and Meridian so far, but they would still need to be watched until I had more of an idea of who it was.
“How long will you be in China?” Stark asked.
“This guy is ahead of us. For once, I would like to be ahead of him.” I sighed. “Did Baptiste ask where I was?”