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cradled them against her chest and kicked the fridge’s door shut as she stood again. She glanced at Echo as she headed back to the door. The girl was still sprawled facedown across one of the room’s two twin beds. “Any signs of life?”
    Lana shrugged and flipped a page in the magazine. “Woke up for a minute when I came back in, said she wanted a beer.” Another bored page flip. “Passed out again.”
    Dez laughed. “You should fuck with her while she’s out. Write ‘drunk-ass bitch’ on her face with lipstick.”
    “Maybe I’ll do that.” Lana frowned as she glanced up from the magazine. “Where are you going with all that beer?”
    “Got a hot date with the guy next door. Want to join us, make it a threesome?”
    Lana frowned. “But you hate men.”
    Dez’s smile turned mischievous. “Except for those rare times when I don’t.”
    “So it’s like that.” Lana pursed her lips for a moment before shaking her head. “Sorry, not in the mood. Have fun, though.”
    “Oh, I think you can count on it.”
    The old redneck was still waiting for her on the balcony landing. Dez wasn’t surprised. No straight guy with a pulse would pass up what she was offering. “Hey, big daddy. You ready to party with Dez?”
    He smiled and took some of the beer off her hands. “Suppose I am. That your name? Dez?”
    “Sure is. What’s yours?”
    “Dale.”
    She followed Dale back to his room. He flipped a light switch on as they entered the room, which was a mirror image of the one Dez was sharing with her friends. Same little round table by the window, same two twin beds, same small television atop a little dresser and same mini-fridge in a corner. A weathered old Samsonite suitcase rested atop the twin bed on the far side of the room. That bed’s linen had not been disturbed. Dale had slept in the bed closer to the door. Dez could tell by the rumpled sheets. The little wastebasket between the beds was overflowing, and the table’s surface was obscured by empty beer bottles.
    “Been here long, Dale?”
    Dale pushed aside some of the empties to make room on the table and set down the cold cans of Bud he’d been holding, gesturing for Dez to do the same. He popped the tab on one and took a deep swallow. “About a week.”
    “Long time to stay in a joint that ain’t pay-by-the-week.”
    Dale scratched at his beard. “Yeah. Guess it is.”
    “So what’s the story?”
    “Just taking my time to figure some shit out.”
    “What kind of shit?”
    “None of your business.”
    Dale’s entire demeanor was different now. He didn’t seem as flustered as he had been during Dez’s brazen flirtation with him out on the balcony. His chest was puffed out and his chin had an arrogant tilt to it. The shift would have unsettled most women enough to send them running from the room, but Dez didn’t frighten easily. She had a hunch he was accustomed to intimidating women, maybe didn’t even like them much aside from their obvious necessity for sexual release. Having had extensive experience with a lot of piggish men during her time, Dez’s hunches in this regard were usually accurate.
    But she had another hunch, as well, and that was that Dale had probably never met another woman quite like her.
    She popped open a beer can and sipped from it. “No need to be short with me, baby. I was just curious.”
    There was an odd twist to his mouth as he said, “Curiosity killed the cat.”
    Dez tugged at the front of his shirt and said, “How much you know about killing, Dale?”
    He put a hand on one of her breasts, gave it a rough squeeze. “More than most men.”
    Dez’s lips parted in a soft moan as the pad of his thumb pushed at her stiff nipple. She arched her back and leaned into his touch. “Oh…I like that. Do it again.” Dale complied and she responded with another, louder moan. “That feels so fucking good. Keep doing it.”
    He grunted. “So you’re that kind of girl. I know just how to handle the likes of