The Deadlier Sex by Striker Randy

Author:Striker, Randy [Striker, Randy]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: USA
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 1981-08-01T14:00:00+00:00

8

She came to my bed that night.

I didn’t know who it was at first.

But it didn’t take me long to find out.

We had allowed ourselves to be talked into spending the night. I wanted to stay and get a better reading on these women of Mahogany Key. But like the island’s director, Saxan Benton, no summary statements were to be had. For a while everything would check out; all facts and personalities fitting into neat little categories. But then some small thing would happen, or I would come across an indecipherable look, or some stray fact, and my tidy presumptions would crack like old china.

The Irishman wanted to stay for obvious—and maybe better—reasons. As he put it: “Dusky, me boy, we’ve been invited to spend the evening on this fine tropical island. Now, need I remind you, this is not jest any tropical island. This island is inhabited by five score and more of the finest-lookin’ ladies a poor Irish lad like meself could ever hope fer. An’ do ye realize, brother MacMorgan, that in certain courts of law in this fine land, we could be committed ta various mental institutes fer refusin’!”

“I’m not sure I believe that, O’Davis.”

“Well, if it ’tis not true, Yank, it should be.”

So we stayed.

Saxan Benton had walked me to the infirmary, leading me by the arm. My face hurt like hell, and with the adrenaline still drugging its way through my brain, it was tough to be civil.

“I guess I should be thanking you,” she had said.

“Another Kleenex would do just as well.”

“But I did tell you that we could handle it.”

I pulled my arm away. “I guess I should have just let those goons beat your two enforcer-squad girls to death when they had them on the ground, huh?”

“They’re not girls!”

“Well, they sure as hell fought like it.”

“For your information, all six of them are martial-arts experts!”

“Maybe they ought to wear signs—scare the local fishermen away.”

She took my arm again, trying to shake me. “You can be so fine and sincere sometimes, and then turn right around and be a regular ass—why is that?”

“I’m acting like an ass, huh?”

“Yes!”

“Hmm . . . I guess you’re right, Saxan. I guess that means we finally have something in common, huh?”

She could have exploded. But she didn’t. I sniffed and cleared my eyes enough to see the look of stern authority melt from her face. And then the laughter came, fringed with a certain shyness. She found me looking down into her eyes, and quickly averted them the way a child with crossed eyes might.

“I’m funny, huh?”

“Yes. And you’re a mess. Here’s the infirmary—and I think you’ll like your nurse. It’s Barbara.”

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