They'd known it was just a matter of time until they were caught. Bass and Charlie had been hiding their liaisons not out of respect but convenience. This wasn't forever; it was stolen moments, sometimes stolen hours, of slamming tender bits together until they found a hard physical release. Rachel and Miles were going to be pissed and loud about it when they found out. The two figured they might as well earn the rage they knew they'd have to eventually face down.
When the hammer finally fell it was quiet but deadly, like a dog fart.
Bass closed the door to the cabin behind him and unzipped his jacket. He hadn't finished kicking the snow off his boots before Miles handed him a sheet of paper. "It's a map to your son. Take it and go. Don't come back."
Bass collapsed into a chair at the kitchen table and carefully smoothed the wrinkles from the sheet. "What are these little clouds?" he asked.
"Sheep," Rachel said. Her voice lilted and her eyes were unfocused. Charlie rolled her eyes and raised one eyebrow telling Bass everything he needed to know; Rachel had been into Cynthia's special blend again. "I drew sheep on the paper. Happy little sheep on a happy little farm where you should go. Go and be happy. Go."
"Is this really where he is? What's his name?" Bass asked.
"Hubert Glasscock," Miles answered.
"Are you shitting me?" Bass said. "I'll fucking kill his adoptive parents. Who names a kid that? Was he raised by Satanists? You can tell me. I promise I won't overreact."
"He goes by Hue," Miles said.
"Umm..." Charlie muttered from across the room.
"Shut up, Charlie," Miles snapped.
"Why didn't you tell me that was Bass' son?" she asked.
"Oh he's Bass now, is he?" Miles sneered.
"I like to be on a first name basis with the guys I'm fucking."
Bass cut off the spat before it could go any further. The look he threw Charlie made her glad he'd lost the ability to impulsively order executions. "You knew?"
"When I went on walkabout Miles asked me to stop by a certain sheep farm and ask if the giant cock was doing OK. I figured if Miles was putting it that way to me it must be some sort of giant rooster. You guys did have your own little twisted science lab in Philly, so why wouldn't I think you'd genetically engineered a dick joke? I laughed when the farm mistress explained the misunderstanding, but I guess Mrs. Glasscock is sick of the jokes. She said Hue was off on a bender and had moved into town. I checked the town, especially the bars, but I never found him."
"And then what?" Bass demanded. "You gave up the search? You went on this special mission for Miles and you just gave up?"
"I went traveling for me. I went to a farm searched bars for him. Enough people said that Hue Glasscock was fine, awesome, dandy, the best I'd ever hope to have, and on and on that I figured he really was fine. I dropped his trail when I picked up yours."
Bass' voice was low and thick and his eyes bored into Charlie. "I want everything you have and I want it now."
Rachel grabbed her screwdriver and lunged for Bass. "You leave my daughter alone you dirty, old pervert!" Miles grabbed her around the waist and Charlie wrenched the screwdriver from her hand.
Bass appeared unaffected by this latest attack on his life. To Charlie he said, "Let's talk while I pack."
Twenty minutes later Bass was gone. He'd taken a horse loaded down with two saddle bags of weapons, food, and cold weather gear and left. She'd followed him to the barn, hoping for a farewell roll in the hay, but he hadn't even allowed time for a goodbye fuck. He hadn't seen his son in over two decades, had only been looking for him for a year, and the man wouldn't slow down long enough for a bit of "parting is such sweet sorrow." She hoped he got a saddle blister on his balls. Not only was she horny with no good way to scratch her itch, the bastard had left her to face Miles and Rachel on her own.
Rachel was back in a jolly mood by the time Charlie returned. Charlie glanced at her mother as she sprawled on the couch with her head in Miles' lap laughing. "Huge cock? That's Bass' son? Yours maybe but his is only on the upper end of average and it has this weird bend in it."
Charlie knew the bend. It was a good bend. Miles glared at the woman who seemed to be trying to get a rise out of his pants by rubbing the back of her head against his zipper. Whether his frustration was with her knowledge of Bass' cock or that her current technique had all the finesse of an enthusiastic Labrador was anyone's guess. Charlie couldn't stand to watch the hypocrites pretend they weren't fucking any longer and headed up to her room.
When she was halfway up the stairs she heard another burst of laughter from Rachel. "Did you even tell him that Hue might not be his kid? Hue will, if Bass ever finds him. Poor kid. Is Bass technically a spree killer or a serial killer?"
Charlie froze. More than once she'd heard the jokes about Bass acting in the moment and repenting at his leisure. He'd mentioned it himself as he'd lingered before undoing her last button the first time they'd been together. He wouldn't really kill the man who might be his son if he was told it wasn't a certainty, would he? In Philadelphia there had been a friend named Jeremy he'd had executed. Bass had realized his mistake ten minutes after he'd ordered the execution. Unfortunately the shots had already been fired.
She ran to her room and grabbed extra socks, gloves, and all the cold weather gear she had. They'd been looting as they moved through the mountains, but gear in her size had been hard to come by. She could cuff up the extra length on her snowpants when she had to walk, but then the moisture tended to wick against her skin. As long as she was riding she'd just bunch it up. The extra bulk would be uncomfortable but warm and it let her conceal her throwing knives more easily. She stashed a small arsenal of weapons on her body, careful not to stab herself and that she could get to everything without taking the time to unzip, and scrawled a quick note to freak out to the hypocritical faux-adults she called family, "I know what you did. I'll come back when I'm ready. Love, Charlie," before sneaking out the backdoor.