Next, I had to find the stepdaughters. Oscar said ever since their mom got shot, they'd been spending all their time down at Flare, coming back every few days to sleep. There they were right now, living it up probably. Candi and Mandi lived the good life, especially now that they were in mourning, trying to forget their mom, celebrate freedom.
It was only around 6 now, maybe get to 6:30 if we left now and missed rush hour traffic. Told Oscar we'd talk to the sisters, come back later.
Told Oscar that he could drop Dara off at home, then drop me off at Flare, but she insisted on coming. Hadn't been to Flare during the day, wanted to see what it was like.
Oscar let us out around the corner. We walked up to the deep red building, neon flames dead right now. They'd flare up come 10 or 11. Guy sitting on a stool out front doing sudoku, he really coulda used 2 stools. Not even big and tall stores carried his size suits on the rack, had to be a custom job.
His eyebrows flicked when we were coming, but he went back to the book. Even when we were on top of him, he kept doodling a couple minutes after. Finally, he looked up at us with dark brown, almost black, eyes. Asked if he could help us, but did it in the way said he was only gonna help us go away.
I made nice with the introductions, told him we had to talk to Candi and or Mandi Donaldson. He grinned real smooth, told us it wasn't his business to know who was or wasn't inside Flare. He was just there to make sure to keep us out. Said Dara could come in when they were open for business, but I wasn't ever gonna get in.
Told him I had questions needed answering. He held up his sudoku, said he had bigger fish to fry. Dara tried sweet talking him, and he told her that she wasn't hot enough. Called her a ginger. She turned real copper red, like her hair, kept opening and closing her mouth but couldn't find anything to say. He told her if she could open her mouth that big, he had something to put in there. I told him to apologize, and he said if we didn't like it, we could leave. He stood up, looked down at me. Inside his nostrils it looked like hell. Walked to the doorway, dragged his heel across it, stood there with his arms crossed.
I told Dara to step back around the corner.
I mighta said it before, power doesn't beat technique unless you got a lot more power. Each of his legs, thick as Dara's waist. Wouldn't take him more than a couple hits to send me home.
Bubble went up around me. Didn't have time to be pretty, so I socked him in the jaw. His head snapped right, twisted back to center real slow. Said it was his turn, sent a ten pound fist at me.
I blocked it with my forearms, but had to take 4 or 5 steps to balance. Mighta backed into a flag pole or a parking meter. Big boy had his arms up, bobbing and weaving forward and back. That woulda thrown off most drunks, definitely make my life harder.
His punches weren't clean, but he didn't really need them clean. Each time I blocked a punch, my forearms went dead, and I could feel it deep in my shoulders. He was still smiling, probably because I was the first slob in a while knew what to do. I tried fainting, but he didn't fall for it [I'm not sure why Trace played possum. It doesn't seem like something he would do. -Dara]. Didn't need to, he could soak up the pain like nobody's business.
Sidestepped a straight, and it brushed past my ear. Sounded like a hurricane. Bubble was starting to drop. I was getting tired. When I did connect, it didn't have any effect. My guard started dropping, but I'd catch myself in time. Had to try something different.
His lapel was flapping free, so I grabbed it, tried to throw him off balance. Problem was, he didn't budge. He launched a haymaker at my face.
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