"Do you know where… do you know where Brad is?" she asked nervously.

The big blond flashed her a brilliant, mocking smile, his hands placed squarely on his hips.

"Got to you, didn't he?"

The words shot through Camey. She saw herself clearly a begging dog, begging for the big man's dick, crawling on the ground, humiliating herself publicly just so she could have more cock! It was a terrible, degrading mental image that flashed through her confused mind.

"I don't… know what you mean. I lust want to talk to him," she said in a quavering voice.

"Sure you don't. Anyways, ain't seen him for a couple of days. Heard you and his old lady got into it," he said, his face lighting up again with mocking laughter. "Yeah, ol' Karen ain't no one to cross. She's got lots of friends around here."

There was something threatening in his voice now, something that made Camey's blood run cold. She ran one hand up and down her arm while backing one foot away from the big man.

"But I'll tell you. Just gimme time to clean up a bit and I'll see if I can find 'im for you. Brad gets under the skin of lots of chicks lately," he said, flashing Camey that brilliant smile before turning and gathering up his leather waist support belt and gloves.

The blonde teen didn't know what to think. Should she risk going with this man? Risk? That word made her laugh. What had she done four days before, trotting off like a bitch dog after some hot man who promised her nothing more than a fast fuck and an end to her innocence? Somehow that image excited the hell out of Camey.

"Come on," the blond weightlifter said.

She followed the tall, thickly built man down the Walk toward Brad's apartment, learning his name was Rick Urban. He and Brad had served in the Marines together, had fought together in Vietnam, and had finally come to Southern California together and settled in Venice.