St. Nacho's 4: The Book of Daniel by Z. A. Maxfield

only a matter of time before he—
    “ Fuck !” He shoved his partner back, knocking him to his ass on the ground below. “Fuck, fuck , sorry, man. Jeez.”
    “What the hell?” The man wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and I could see he was shaking with adrenaline and nerves.
    “I think something landed on me. Like”—Cameron glanced up at me and back down at his friend and continued—“a bug or something.”
    “What?”
    “Look. I’m kind of… I gotta go.” Cam took off running.
    “Are you kidding me? Motherfucker !” screamed the man on the ground. He watched Cam lope off toward the beach on unsteady legs. “Pretty is as pretty does, you bastard.”
    I couldn’t blame him for giving his dick a few quick, perfunctory pumps. He shuddered as it spit cum on the ground beneath where I sat, still unnoticed.
    By him anyway.
    I was going to kill Muse. She had to have known this would happen. Something like this. That little monster…
    What a doll.
    Cam’s friend stuffed himself back into his pants and stomped off, and I found I could breathe normally again.
    * * *
    I’d been to Cam’s place once briefly with Jake and JT to drop something off, but a lot of the fifties-style apartment buildings right on the beach looked alike. Still, I saw my bike parked on the street, so I headed up the stairs of the one I believed was Cam’s. There were only three apartments, and I knew he didn’t live on the end, so I tapped lightly on the middle door.
    A sisal mat beneath my feet invited me to “Wipe Your Paws.”
    I heard footsteps on the other side of the door, and when they stopped, I imagined Cam, standing on the other side of the peephole looking out and wondering if he should open the door. That’s what I’d be doing. I’d be paralyzed with indecision and hoping I could get away with pretending I wasn’t home.
    “I can hear you.” I headed for the shortcut. “Failure to answer the door won’t persuade me to leave.”
    I heard the dead bolt turn, and then the door opened a crack. One blue eye peered out.
    “I came to apologize to you.” The door opened farther, and I saw Cam’s face, awash with the pink tinge of a blush. “I should have let you know I was there. I’m sorry it seemed like I was spying.”
    “Weren’t you?”
    “I was actually there”—why had I been there?—“being nudged in a more organic direction.”
    Cam blinked at me. “I beg your pardon?”
    “At the time I thought it had to do with St. Nacho’s own unholy triumvirate. Muse, Izzie, and Minerva. They’ve been stalking me and—”
    “Wait, what?” He frowned.
    I glanced back up at him. In this light, his unshaven whiskers gave off little glints of copper and I knew, I just knew , I was right. His treasure trail and the thatch of pubic hair I’d seen would be a burnished, coppery red.
    “Everyone in this town is insane, aren’t they? Can I come in?”
    “I guess it could seem like we’re crazy, but we’re pretty harmless.” Cam relaxed a bit and stood back.
    I crossed the threshold but only just enough so he could close the door. “Those three, Muse, Izzie, and Minerva, have been drawing chalk symbols on the sidewalk outside my house and on my coffee sleeves. I see them sometimes, diving behind the trees when I get the paper in the morning or running away when I go out to smoke in the afternoon.”
    “But why?”
    I shook my head. “That’s not important right now. Muse seems to have softened toward me since I loaned you my bike.”
    “Since you loaned—”
    “Like I said, what’s important is I wasn’t up that tree to spy on you, I should have let you know I was there, and I’m very, very sorry if I embarrassed you.”
    I relaxed, happy to have the reason for my call out of the way.
    “Wait, okay. You were up that tree because…” He waited for me to answer.
    “Muse told me to climb it.”
    “You climbed a tree— with your arm —because a nineteen-year-old girl told you to do