1980: You Shook Me All Night Long (Love in the 80s #1) (4 page)

G
eorgia pulled
me into the stampede of people that were running to crowd around the musicians. People all around me were shoving toward the stage. I wanted out of the mass of people, but couldn’t move. I had to surge with them or be trampled. Georgia’s hand was torn from mine.

Shoving. Elbows in my ribs. Hands everywhere. “Georgia,” I screamed, catching one quick glimpse of the back of her head and Mark’s before being shoved again. Even Rick was nowhere to be found.

“Encore! Encore!” The crowd chanted. And then chaos. Punches thrown, shoving, blood spatter. Metal chairs clattered across the floor. Then they were weapons.

Too many people. I pushed into the crowd, shielding my face, trying to get the hell out of this crazy. The music stopped abruptly and the auditorium lights came on. From a bullhorn at the back of the theatre, came, “Everyone, get your hands in the air. NOW!”

Oh shit
. I raised my hands. Everyone around me stood with their hands up, the fight instantly ended like someone had poured ice water over the brawlers. Two guys in the middle of it, stood up, shirts torn and bloody. Rick was one of them.

I blinked to make sure I was seeing him right. The guy he’d been fighting stood up, wiping blood from his teeth. “Touch my girl again, bro...I’ll fucking end you. Preppy shit bag.”

Rick looked at him with a bloody smile. “She wanted it.”

The guy got ready to leap forward again and was caught from behind by the officers we’d never seen weaving their way toward the front.

“I said, hands up, asshole!” barked the officer as he cuffed the man. Rick was put in cuffs, too. I thought that we were going to be released. I thought wrong.

“All of you are coming with us until we figure out who started this mess and who was involved. You just destroyed University property.”

Along with a crowd of twenty underclassmen, Rick and the tough-looking guy who beat the hell out of him included, I was led from the building. Luckily, the van I was put in the back of wasn’t the one that Rick was in. I wanted nothing more than to spit right in his eye!
Ick. Gag me with a spoon. Maybe not spit.
But I’d kick him in the balls,
for sure
.

What in the hell was Georgia thinking? Where was she? Would she bail me out? I couldn’t call my dad. He’d make me go home and I’d lose everything, my future and my freedom. I fought the tears that welled up as the officers slammed the van doors closed.

W
e were led
into the precinct and shoved into one of three large holding cells, the walls lined with metal benches. I was put in the cell closest to the back wall, last on the right. Sitting on a bench, peeling the paint, I waited. They promised to question each of us and process those who were under arrest. I wasn’t sure how this horrific night would end. I hadn’t done anything wrong, nothing to be arrested for, but yet I sat in a cell on a cold bench, picking the layers of paint chips from it.

The cops were slow, but one by one, people were being released. It had been hours and I’d amassed a pile of multi-color paint chips next to my shoes. Stupid shoes. They were Georgia’s. I’d become a Georgia clone. And she’d left me. Given one phone call and she wasn’t even at the room waiting for me to see if I was okay. She was probably with Mark.

“Joey!” someone shouted from outside. His voice was deep and rich.

“Luke!” yelled the guy sitting next to me. He jumped up and pushed his way to the bars.

Yay. A new cellmate.

Joey, the guy who’d been sitting next to me, watching me pick paint chips, had gotten a call out to his brother. He’d been talking to me. “My brother’s gonna come and get me out of this hell hole.”

“Good for you,” I’d said.

Rick stewed from the bench across from us, his sharp, angry eyes watching every paint fleck flutter to the floor. Asshole.

Joey plopped down beside me and asked if I could shove down a little. I didn’t have much room, but whatever. I eased over and his brother slid in between us. “What the fuck?” his brother asked. Brother was HOT. Dark hair, white t-shirt stretched over corded muscles, gray eyes. Damn.

Joey put his elbows on his knees. “It’s nothing. Everyone was pushing toward the stage when some jerks got into a fight.” His eyes clicked to Rick. “The cops didn’t know who was who, so it’ll all be ironed out soon.”

Hot Brother looked around the room at the flashes of neon and fishnet. “Not soon.”

“It’ll take a while. But I won’t be held. I didn’t do anything. Wrong place. Wrong time is all,” Joey said.

Hot Brother shifted in his seat, his warm leg pressing against my lace pantyhose. I fanned myself. Was it getting hot in here? Too many people. Not enough air conditioning. “You’ll get out. I might not.”

“What do you mean?” Joey asked.

I watched discreetly from the corner of my eye. Too bad there wasn’t enough room on the bench to peel more paint. Leaning forward and glancing down, it looked like Hot Brother’s boots were in my pile. Tacky strips of brown, green and red stuck out from the soles.

Hot Brother glanced at me. I picked at my cuticle. “The Firebird. I had to drive it down here to get you. Apparently, it’s hot.”
Oooh! Hot Brother driving a stolen car. Bad boy mode in full effect.

“She overheated?” Joey asked, his eyes widened. I couldn’t help but snort. Even I knew what hot meant when it came to cars.

Hot Brother, with his brows pinched together, turned to me. “Do you mind, sweetheart?”

“Nope,” I said, popping my p.

“We’re having a conversation,” he said, gesturing between himself and Joey.

“I know.”

“You’re eavesdropping.”

I giggled. “Am not. I’m sitting right beside you. Clearly, I can see and hear you. So... totally not eavesdropping here.”

“Aw, shit. What’s on my shoe? Did you do this?”

His accent was yummy. “Are you from the south?” I asked.

He frowned, leaning his back against the wall. “Virginia.”

Sigh. I could listen to him talk all day. He could read the back of a Spam can and still sound hot. He could cover himself in that nasty Spam jelly and still look hot.
What is wrong with me? And why am I thinking about Spam?

A gruff voice interrupted my thoughts, thank goodness. “Joseph Davis!”

Joey stood up. “Yo!”

He looked back at Luke. “I’ll figure this out. I’ll find Armistead.”

Luke nodded. “He’ll be pissed.”

“I can handle him,” Joey promised. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

The officer opened the cell and let Joey out, sliding it back into place with a loud clang. Barely perceptible, Luke’s eyelashes flinched at the sound.

“So? Car thief?”

He eased away from me. “Brawler or hooker?” he asked, his eyes raking over my clothing.

I huffed, covering my chest with my arms. “Neither.”

“Whatever you say,” he teased, his lips tipping up on the ends.

“Whatever you say,” I copied, mocking him.

M
y thigh was burning
hot from being pressed against hers. “What’s your name? Or should I call you ‘hooker?’”

She picked at the paint on the benches, had been doing so for an hour straight without getting bored. That shit was all over me. “Tina.”

“Tina? Didn’t peg you for a Tina.”

Her dark eyes peered up from the bench. “What do I look like then?” She crossed her arms and legs all miffed. All it did was make me hard as a rock. I was in jail, facing jail time and all I could think of was lace, plump lips and pink leather. Fuck me. I was already institutionalized. Joey was getting out of here. He was so sure it was just a matter of time, a mistake, that I believed him. I just wish I knew how to get myself out of here and out of this damn mess.

“Well?” she said, nudging my arm with her elbow. Her breasts were shoved up by her arms. God damn it.

“Tracy or Linda or Lou, maybe?” I teased.

“Lou? Tracy or Linda or Lou?” Her mouth pinched into a tight line. “I do not look like any of those names. I look like Tina.”

“If you say so.”

She uncrossed her long legs and crossed them again. I could see the contours of the muscles in her legs. Damn, to drag my tongue up them...

“You get caught up in the fight?” I asked.

She sat up, wincing and clutching at her stomach. “Yeah. Caught an elbow to the rib.”

I stiffened. “Is it broken?”

“It hurts. I don’t know. I mean, I can breathe, so that’s good. Right?” she tried to smile.

Some asshole sitting across from us smirked, blood still in his teeth, a dried crimson trail down his chin. “You took a blow, babe?”

“I am not your babe, jerk face,” she spat. “You’re the reason we’re all here!”

Muttered “yeah’s” came from everyone in our cell and the other two, too.

“If you hadn’t been such a cold fish, maybe I wouldn’t have had to look elsewhere for entertainment,” he smarted.

“As if. No girl in her right mind would want your dirty paws on her.”

He stood up, fists balled, smile wiped off his smug face and started toward her.

Aw, hell no.

I jumped up and put myself in his path. “Sit the fuck down,” I said, calmly.

“Who are you? Her watchdog?”

Adrenaline coursed through me. I never started fights but I never backed down from them. And this asshole needed to learn some manners. One ass kicking wasn’t enough for him, apparently.

“No, I’m the guy who’s facing twenty-five years and has nothing to lose from breaking you in half.”

He smiled. “You’re joking.”

I shook my head once.

Slowly, he backed up and sat in his seat.
That’s right, motherfucker. Sit down or get beat down
. I looked over at Tina. She looked like an angry little tea pot. Her face was red, her hands were balled ready to fight. Steam was about to burst from her ears.

“Why did you do that?” she whispered as I settled beside her.

“No man hits a woman. Got it?” I looked at her, searching her big doe eyes.

“I can defend myself.”

“You’re welcome,” I gritted out.

“Thank you,” she whispered, finally relaxing her body. “He’s a total freak.”

“Yeah, I see that. How’d you meet up with him?”

She sighed and sank back against the cinder block. “My roommate set us up on a date. I had no idea. She said she had concert tickets, helped me get ready and then fed me to that wolf.”

“Some friend.”

“Exactly.”

“Where is she now?” I asked.

“Who knows?”

T
he cells were almost empty
. Rick had been removed quickly after he threatened Tina, mostly for his protection. The guards were sure he was going to get his ass handed to him. If it wasn’t me doing it, it would be someone who was getting more pissed by the second about being stuck in here.

Tina and I still shared a bench, but her back was leaned against my shoulder and she rested her head on the wall, breathing deeply. Her legs were stretched along the metal, crossed at the ankle. She shifted and mumbled something.

The room began to shake. I eased her back into my arms and stood her up. She was startled, wide-eyed and scared. “What’s wrong?”

“Quake.”

“Earthquake?” she squeaked.

“Come here.” I grabbed her hand and kept my arm over her head. “Duck down. Get under the bench. She dropped to her knees and scuttled under the metal we’d been sitting on. It was bolted to the wall and would protect our heads. “Get under something!” I yelled, following Tina’s lead.

Black-rimmed tear trails cut down her face, “Are we going to die?”

“No,” I told her, clutching her hand to my face. “It happens all the time around here.”

The sound of plaster cracking tore my attention away. Metal screeched and clanged. We clung to the cold tile, but it was shaking violently, too. And a minute after it started, it stopped.

“Breathe, Tina,” I told her, pulling her from beneath the bench.

She sobbed, throwing her arms around my neck and pulling me tight. Her body was shaking more violently than the ground had.

Alarm whistles sounded. The lights went out and the doors clicked open. An officer that I didn’t recognize slid the door open. “Alright. You all are clear. We got the two who caused the fight in the first place. Get out of here. We have an unholy mess to clean up thanks to mother frickin’ nature,” he yelled.

My palms were drenched. But I pretended to be one of the USC students. Holy shit! I grabbed Tina’s hand and she threaded her fingers through mine as we walked out of the cell, past the desks whose piles of paperwork had overturned in the quake. Papers crunched under our feet. Officers scrambling to right everything that had fallen over cursed and raged.

The lights flickered on and I was sure Hammond would see me, or maybe the officer who spotted the Firebird in the first place. Before I could spot him, the lights flickered back off, emergency lights barely lighting our path. Tina tugged me along. Soon, we were out the front door.

A crowd of us spilled out into the night. It was well into the morning now. She glanced at her free wrist. “Three A.M.”

“Devil’s hour.”

“Hmmm?” she asked.

“I saw a horror movie. It said that three was the devil’s hour, mocking the trinity.”

Tina giggled. “That’s silly.” The smile fell off her face.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t have a ride.”

The cops had taken the keys to the firebird. He had them on the desk just inside the window before the quake. “I’ll walk you. Where do you live?”

“On campus.”

I smiled. “USC girl, huh? You from San Fernando valley?”

“Hell no,” she said, pulling me down the sidewalk.

“Thank God. I’m Luke, by the way.”