Hunter counts out thirty of them. Slowly. Presses the wad of bills to Malone’s open palm. She takes the wad of cash, hands it over her shoulder to Oscar. “Be a dear and make sure the number’s correct this time, Oscar. Don’t wanna take any chances this go-around, seeing as Mr. Itch didn’t bother to mention that he was shorter’n a mosquito’s peter when last we crossed paths.”

Sliding his wallet back into his hip pocket. There is the feeling of discomfort that comes from having three pistols pointed at you. Hunter thinks of the 1911 Colt .45 tucked in his ruck. But it would do him little good at this juncture, with three good ol’ boys already sighting him up. Hunter feels a bit blindsided to find that Malone wears the pants in this operation. He had assumed that Itch was dealing with a male. A dude. Itch never mentioned otherwise. Regardless, it’s pretty visible that she’s a bigger swingin’ dick than any of the men she surrounds herself with. She’s the alpha broad. Hunter is sure of that. And he’s pretty sure Oscar can’t get a grip on the numbers, is maybe allergic to basic arithmetic, or maybe missed school the week they were learning how to count. He fiddles with the loose cash, has dropped several bills and picked them back up, as if they were burning his fingers. Hunter thinks about offering to recount it for him.

“You know, maybe I should just say fuck it! Start with you, Itch, right in your fucking head. Then Mr. Hunter and this other slab of chuck roast—sorry hon, what was your name? I didn’t catch it seeing as you weren’t rude enough to offer it.”

Not rising to the bait, Nugget says, “Nugget.”

“Nugget, like the McDonald’s Chicken Mc-type. I bet your family is proud of that moniker. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Nugget. Like I’s saying, after I shoot you, Mr. Hunter, I’ll shoot Mr. Nugget just for having the poor judgment to even be associated with Itch, just for tagging along. Have my boys take your asses out in my woods and find you a nice quiet plot of untrespassed soil.” Malone’s eyes bore right through Itch. Her guys come closer, looking jumpier than before. Nerves are taut and getting twitchy, waiting on a response.