“Go on, get your ass outta here!” he told her with a slap to her ass, his voice full of disdain. He had no more use for her now than he would an empty beer bottle. She slinked away as quickly as she could. As she did, she shot a humiliated glance at Tiger. Trying to avoid his eyes, she hastily wiped at the semen dripping from her chin. Now that he could see her whole face, Tiger realized just how young the girl was. He reckoned she was maybe nineteen. She was a truly beautiful girl, with dirty blonde hair, almond-colored eyes and a cute pug nose turned up at the end. In another life, she’d probably been a college freshman looking for excitement and adventure. Not a girl who had her entire life torn from her. Thought it would be a big turn-on to run with some really dangerous types, didn’t ya, girl? Now, she was too far in over her head with no way out. She should be back in the dorm doing homework or pledging for a sorority, not giving head to a gangster in this dump. Too late for that.
Cutter had a thing for these young co-eds. It was a dominance thing. Like Tiger, he had no formal education to speak of. He hated authority and anyone he thought more intelligent than him. For him, pimping out these college girls or having them degrade themselves online for a bunch of horny spacers was a way of getting back at an elite establishment he’d come to despise growing up in the white-trash slum of Rocket Town just across the river. Cutter would use this poor girl up until there was nothing left of her. He got off on shit like that.
Tiger fought the bile that rose in his throat. Even though he and Cutter went way back, he’d never really bucked the man. He doubted it would go over well. The old Odell and this new Cutter were two different people. Tiger was a brave man and feared very little. He might not fear his old pal, but he damned sure respected him. Much in the same way he wasn’t afraid of a rattlesnake, but he sure as hell didn’t turn his back on it either. Anybody who knew Cutter Hawkins, knew what he was capable of. To take him lightly, if he ever got a hard-on for you, would be a fatal mistake, even for old buddies like Tiger.
He bit his tongue, as he fought the anger inside him. She’s not your concern! She made her choice! Here’s an idea, Thomas! Mind your own fuckin’ business for a change! You gotta date with Lulah tomorrow. Wanna keep it?
He watched the girl do the walk-of-shame to the bathroom past some leering hoverbikers. He wondered what lay in store for her down the road. Was a college degree really going to be all that beneficial in these changing economic times … or, in a cruel, twisted way, was Cutter now preparing her for the brightest future possible? He looked to the stage where Carina danced and in his mind’s eye he saw the girl there, a few years from now, her beauty faded, her face hard and indifferent from the bitterness.
She’s not strong like Carina! She’ll never last in this place!
If Cutter noticed Tiger’s inner turmoil, he didn’t let on. He Velcroed himself back up and signaled for a waitress to bring them two clean glasses. When she sat them on the table, he pulled the cork from the bottle and poured them both a shot.
“Partners,” he held up his glass and Tiger clinked his against it.
“Partners,” Tiger turned up his glass and downed the fiery-sweet liquid, savoring the way it warmed him inside as it made its way down. He needed it to burn away the images of life’s injustices he was seeing now pertaining to the young girl.
Cutter downed his shot and screwed his eyes up tight, as he felt the burn all the way down. Sitting his glass to the side for a second, he leaned back in his chair, waiting for that quick rush of warm, pleasant tingling to wash over him. The enhanced “afterburn” that the Martians had blended into the famous drink.
He knew better to ask about the girl, but as far as the suit, the curiosity was killing Tiger. He had to ask. “The dude that just left …”
“What about him?” Cutter asked shortly, an ominous look on his face, and it was obvious he didn’t like his chill state interrupted.
“What’d you do to piss in his cornbread?” Tiger knew that for anyone else to ask such a question would have been unacceptable. Cutter was in a business where public disclosure was not something that was recommended. Especially someone in Tiger’s position. The less you knew, the better off you were. Still, Tiger was different. The two had once spaced together.
Cutter shrugged, still eyeing his old comrade somewhat curiously, as if he wasn’t sure if he wanted to tell or not. “Eh … the little pussy fuck; he owns the company that operates the garbage scows that pick up all the unprocessed waste in the shipyards and the Grand Orbital. Quite a lucrative little contract.”
“Lemme guess … you helped him get it?”
“Mmm … I might’ve put in a good word or two with some folks … persuaded a few others not to bid on it.”
“All for a small fee, of course,”
