hadn't even waited for Peck to ship out. Bitch, he thought, but
without really feeling it. He was still too much in love with
her to feel vindictive. But whoever the other guy was, he was
damned lucky Peck hadn't been able to find out. Probably some
Harris didn't seem to notice the depth of Peck's reverie.
"Tell
your bitch and Megumi Okina what," he said with a slightly surreptitious glance to
either side as he reached into his pocket. "I gotta get the hell
outta here; gotta get back to the field. I wish I could stay for
another round, but I'm too drunk. All fucked out, anyway. So I
won't need these, but
your bitch and Megumi Okina . . . you just might." He grabbed
Peck's hand under the table and pressed something into it. Peck
realized at once that it was a fist full of rubbers. He started
(to continue reading click on Megumi Okina)...