Dangerous Games
“He sucked in a breath at the abrupt sting. Gaffer’s tape, used in the film business, was a lot stronger and gummier than ordinary duct tape.
“I got to know if Levine sent you to fuck me up.”
“I already told you I don’t know Levine.” Jack Liffey flexed and worked his lips trying to soothe the sting.
Abruptly, a ragged-looking cat raced into the room, did a noisy tour of all four walls like a bike riding up on a velodrome, and raced straight back where it came from. They both watched it.
“Another country heard from,” Jack Liffey said. “Yours?”
“I hate cats. An old girlfriend’s.”
“I hope you feed him.”
The kid glanced at Jack Liffey as if he were crazy. “I hope the little fucker dies and goes off to meet God.”
“What would God want with a dead cat?”
Something had got the young man riled, probably to do with the diaper that still seemed to be under his drawstring trousers.
“Are you in pain?” Jack Liffey asked.
“I got things on my mind. Like that shit Levine.
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