Rock Chick 01 (20 page)

“And you aren’t sure?” Kitty Sue asked.

I looked at her and thought maybe I should
have lied. It was too late now.

“Nope. He scares me,” I admitted.

She nodded. “Yep, he’s pretty dang
scary.”

I stared. My God, the woman was talking about
her son.

“You agree?”

She looked at Lee then back at me. “Honey,
that boy drives me to distraction. It’s like he’s not of my loins.
I don’t even know where he came from. If Ally hadn’t been the exact
replica of Lee, personality-wise, except female, I would have
wondered if there was a mix-up at the hospital.”

I kept staring. Kitty Sue kept talking.

“Hank’s just like his Dad, smart, cautious,
controlled, taking only calculated risks. I’m sure Lee calculates
his risks but I think he allows for a much larger margin for error
and counts on… I don’t know what he counts on to get him out of
whatever scrapes he gets into.”

I couldn’t stop staring, she kept talking and
everything that came out of her mouth was like a verbal car
accident. If she was trying to convince me to stick with her son,
she should have tried a different tact.

“He does… you know?” Kitty Sue said.

I realized she was asking me a question so I
shook my head that no, I didn’t know.

“He gets out of every scrape, always did and
always did it on his own. Though it’ll take some kind of woman to
live a life like that, knowing what he’s like, knowing the risks he
takes.”

Her hand went to my knee and she squeezed
it.

“Not anyone here would think less of you if
you aren’t that woman. I’m telling you because it’s true. We all
love you both and we’ll always love you both, no matter what
happens between you.” She stopped, sighed and continued. “Anyway, I
don’t even know if that kind of woman exists. I’m his mother, I’ve
lived with him surviving scrapes that would make your hair stand on
end and I worry about him every day, he scares the hell out of
me.”

I didn’t want my hair standing on end, that
was true. It didn’t sound like a good look.

I also didn’t want to think of any other
woman being the kind of woman who blithely accepted Lee’s Death
Cheating Margin of Error and therefore being the one he came home
to every night. And lastly, I didn’t want the family not thinking
less of me because I threw over Lee because I was a sissy. I was no
sissy. Lee may be scary but not
that
scary. I could
out-margin-of-error-acceptance any bitch that came along.

“I’m gonna get the brownies,” I told Kitty
Sue.

She patted my knee. I got up and went
straight to Lee.

He was sitting in a lawn chair with his legs
stretched out in front of him, Hank, Malcolm and Ally sitting with
him. He watched me cross the lawn and didn’t move a muscle.

“Can I talk to you?” I asked.

He didn’t answer but got up. He followed me
through the sliding glass door and into the kitchen. I slid the
door shut behind us and turned to him.

“Are you mad at me?” I asked.

He crossed his arms on his chest. He didn’t
answer me but I guessed that was a yes.

I tried to cute my way out of it and flashed
him a tilty-head smile.

“What’ll it take for you to get un-mad at
me?”

He didn’t answer.

Okay, that didn’t work.

I sighed and threw up my hands. “It was never
Hank, it would never be Hank. Hank is not even a possibility.”

“For Christ’s sake, stop talking about Hank,”
he exploded, taking my hand and pulling me deeper into the house
and out of eyesight and earshot of everyone in the backyard.

“What is it then?” I asked his back when he
stopped in the living room.

“Think about it,” he answered after he
turned.

“I don’t want to think about it, if I knew
what it was, I’d already be explaining it or apologizing for it.
You’re gonna have to tell me.”

“I’m not tellin’ you.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” I yelled. “How can I
make things better if I don’t even know what I did wrong?”

“Forget about it. I’m not angry with you
anymore.”

“Yes you are,” I countered.

“No,” he said in his scary voice, “I’m
not.”

“Boy, are you moody. You’re the most moody
guy I’ve ever met.”

“If you really want to make things better,
you could start by not talkin’ about all the men of your
acquaintance. That would help.”

I gasped.

“You make me sound like a slut!”

He walked up to me and I stood my ground. He
was so close, I could feel his heat.

“All right, Indy. First, I don’t like
thinkin’ of you with other guys. There may not have been a lot but
even one puts my teeth on edge. Second, I don’t like bein’ compared
to Hank or the idea that you think Tom would accept him easier than
he would me.”

The light dawned and it dawned brightly on
the fact that I was
such
a moron.

“Lee –”

“I’m goin’ for a drive. I’ll be back to take
you home.”

“Lee –”

He took off and I stood in the living room
staring out the big picture window to the front yard. The Crossfire
was long gone by the time the door to the bathroom opened, Dad came
out and he looked at me.

“How much did you hear?” I asked.

“All of it, you were talking pretty loudly,”
Dad answered, coming up to me.

I put my head on his shoulder and he put his
arm around my back.

“I’m a moron.”

“Well, I don’t know what you said but it
doesn’t sound good.”

“I’m a moron.”

Dad kissed the hair at the side of my
head.

“He’d be all kinds of fool if he didn’t come
back and accept your apology. Lee is a lot of things, but that boy
is no fool. I’ll take the brownies out.”

Dad went into the kitchen and I heard the
sliding glass door open and close.

I went to the bathroom, not because I needed
to use it but if Dad could hear, then the others could as well and
I needed to get my head together. Not a good start, the first
family get-together and I said something stupid and pissed off Lee
to the point he had to take a drive to cool off.

I was contemplating how I’d make it up to him
when I left the bathroom and the doorbell rang. I walked to the
door, thinking maybe it got locked somehow. The only person it
could be was Lee and he would normally just walk in or walk around
the house to the backyard.

I opened the door and stared the shooters in
the face, momentarily stunned that they were standing on the
doorstep of my childhood home and ringing the bell.

I opened my mouth to scream, one of them
leaned forward, arm extended and then it was lights out.

Story Time for Bad Little Girls

This kidnapping was entirely different from
the last.

They didn’t ask me if I was okay and they
weren’t cordial.

There was no cream damask sofa either.

They didn’t even talk to me at all. This was
good, it meant I didn’t talk to them either and thus didn’t draw
undue attention to myself, nor have the opportunity to piss them
off so much they shot at me or punched me in the face.

They cuffed my hands behind my back and tied
me to a chair with nylon rope. I thought doing both was a bit
overkill but figured it wise not to share my opinion. Being cuffed
and tied was not comfortable, to say the least. In fact, if I moved
at all, it hurt. Either the rope gouged into my skin or my arms
strained against all natural limits. I didn’t have my limb
coordination back from the second stun-gunning of my life so I
didn’t get a chance to struggle while they were tying me. It
wouldn’t have mattered, they both had guns. I’d quit self-defense
classes before week three and, as far as I knew, was not
bullet-proof like Superman.

I was in a house, God knew where, just that
obviously no one lived there and hadn’t for a long time. We were in
the filthy living room and there was an old, beat up, dusty couch
and the chair I was sitting in. That was it, the extent of the
décor, unless one counts dust mites the size of cocker
spaniels.

The two guys who grabbed me were the shooters
who shot at Rosie and me and started this disaster. One of the
shooters spent a lot of time in another room and I could tell by
the drone of his voice that he was on the phone. The other shooter
stayed with me. These guys were not as panicked as Rosie and
clearly had showers in the last couple of days. However, their eyes
scared me. This was serious shit. These guys were professionals and
they were not fucking around.

I probably would have been more scared if I
didn’t have to go to the bathroom.

I normally had a cast iron bladder. Everyone
always commented on my bladder control. It usually took me twice as
long to break the seal as it did others. I could drink freely from
the keg before a gig and not miss a single note of a song during
the concert. My bladder was almost as legendary as my encounter
with Aerosmith’s Joe Perry. But now, the Fat Tire beer worked its
way through my system in record time and I was dying for a wee.

I had no idea how much time I was there. I
was concentrating on keeping my mouth shut and keeping from peeing
my pants. I didn’t want to ask them to let me go to the bathroom. I
didn’t have my shit together enough to think of an escape plan. I
didn’t wonder how long it would take for my family to realize I was
gone, especially considering the Lee Incident meant I would be in
hiding for awhile before showing my face in the backyard again. I
didn’t even consider thinking about the fact that this might not go
well for me and the last thing I did was fight with Lee.

I was staring out the window, thinking maybe
I could get a lock on where I was if I had a good look and if I
focused on something I wouldn’t focus on the fact that I had to pee
or that my life might soon be over.

That’s when I saw the top of a big, blond
head and a pair of eyes, the wild mass of hair tamped down by night
vision goggles.

Tex was peeking through the window.

Holy crap.

No sooner had I seen him then he was
gone.

“What are you lookin’ at?” the shooter asked
me, turning to look out the window.

The other shooter came in. They were both big
guys, kind of in the bent of Goon Gary and Terrible Teddy, wearing
slacks and dress shirts with the sleeves rolled up. No ties.

One of them, the one who talked on the phone,
was older, his brown hair peppered with gray. The other one who was
left to watch me had sandy blond hair, may have been cute at one
point but now looked like he was careening headlong toward middle
age.

“He agreed. He’ll do the swap, the girl for
the diamonds,” Phone Guy Pepper Shooter told Watch Guy Sandy
Shooter.

“She was lookin’ at something outside, I’m
checkin’,” Sandy Shooter told Pepper Shooter.

Pepper Shooter looked at me while Sandy went
outside.

“Your boyfriend out there?” Pepper asked
me.

I shook my head and kept my mouth shut. I
hoped Tex was long gone and calling 911. I feared that Tex was
close and planning Armageddon.

Pepper went from window to window, standing
at the side and looking out. He was beginning to look a little less
professional and serious and a little more panicked and
desperate.

“Fucking Nightingale!” he spat and turned to
me, pulling his gun out of the waistband of his pants and pointing
it at me. “Did you see him out there?” he yelled.

“No,” I answered, not telling a lie since he
was talking about Lee and I didn’t see Lee outside. Therefore, I’d
die without at least that lie darkening my soul.

Pepper didn’t hold a gun like Rosie, he held
it steady and with practiced ease and he was scaring the shit out
of me. So much so, I totally forgot I had to pee.

“What were you lookin’ at?”

God, I was such a moron. Why couldn’t I be
cool, like in the movies? Whistle and pretend I didn’t see
anything, then calmly communicate an entire escape plan to my
rescuer using only my widened eyes and a couple of jerks of my head
while my kidnappers were turned the other way.

“I wasn’t looking at anything. There’s
nothing to look at so I was looking out the window.”

He kept holding the gun pointed at me. He
didn’t have to say what the gun was saying pretty clearly, talk or
lights out.

“Listen, I have to use the bathroom,” I
blurted. “Seriously, I had three Fat Tires before you guys
stun-gunned me. I think all that electricity did something to my
bladder. Usually, I can hold it but I totally have to go.”

He kept staring and pointing the gun and the
other guy came in. Pepper didn’t move an inch, didn’t even look at
Sandy when he came in.

“No sign of anyone,” Sandy said.

“You wouldn’t find sign of Nightingale if he
was out there, asswipe. He’s smoke.”

Sandy looked from Pepper to me.

“Why do you have a gun on her?” Sandy
asked.

“You said she saw something,” Pepper
answered. “I think if I put a bullet in her kneecap, she might tell
me what she saw.”

Holy crap!

Sandy was just as shocked as me.

“Jesus, Rick. Have you lost your mind? We’re
supposed to turn her over for the diamonds and not with a bullet in
her fucking kneecap. You think Nightingale’s out there as smoke?
You put a bullet into his woman and he’s gonna hunt you down and
skin you alive.”

“She’ll be breathin’, he’ll have to make do.
All the rest of her parts will be workin’, she doesn’t need her
kneecap to fuck,” Pepper Rick replied.

That’s when I quit breathing.

I guess he hadn’t forgiven me for mouthing
off a few days ago.

Then, the front door flew open and both
Pepper Rick and Sandy whirled toward it. Nothing was there but
something rolled across the floor.