Rock Chick 01 (9 page)

My life had been simple a day ago. Work,
coffee, rock ‘n’ roll. Now I was being shot at, dragged around by
bad guys and propositioned by the love of my life who I had decided
I didn’t want anymore.

The simple life seemed far superior to all of
that.

“I’m Terry Wilcox,” he went on.

I nodded again. I was beginning to feel
enough of myself to be scared, but not enough to be polite.

“You’re India Savage, Lee’s woman.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to say I was
not
Lee’s
anything
but these people seemed scared
enough of Lee for me to decide that I should keep my mouth shut on
that score.

It was then Wilcox really looked at me, from
head to toe, and he sat back, getting comfortable, his face
changing from depressed to assessing.

“Lee’s always had good taste in women,” he
said quietly and something in his eyes made my skin crawl.

Serious euw.

Then he said, “I’m looking for Rosie
Coltrane, do you know where he is?”

Great.

Rosie.

The bane of my existence.

I was pissed off enough with Rosie, who had
got me into this mess
and
the one with Lee, to be a little
snippy.

“If I knew where he was, why would I be
sitting in my car outside his house?”

Something dangerous changed in Wilcox’s eyes
and I realized I’d just let my mouth run away with me and that
being a little snippy might not go over too well. Like with the
guys who shot at me. Evidence was clearly suggesting that bad guys
did not like snippy women. I should maybe have been more polite,
maybe more meek, then again, I didn’t have a lot of experience with
conversing with creepy, scary, bad guys.

“He has something of mine,” Wilcox
continued.

“I know.” I felt it safe to admit.

“I was supposed to get it back this morning.
Do you know what happened?”

Hmm, I’d never taken the “how much
information to divulge during interview with bad guys who kidnap
you” course at the local community college. I’d barely squeaked by
with computers and business accounting. I was feeling a little bit
out of my depth.

“He was staying with Lee but, this morning,
me and Lee got kinda… er…” I stopped and searched for a word to
describe that morning’s trauma, “busy… and we didn’t notice he took
off.”

“Busy.” His eyes dropped to my chest, the Euw
Look was still in them. I felt my stomach lurch uncomfortably and
tried really hard not to let my lip curl in disgust. “I bet. Do you
know where he might be?”

I shook my head. “I wish I knew. He’s my
coffee guy. He didn’t come to work, if I lose him, it’ll affect my
profit margin.”

“He’s a good coffee guy,” Goon Gary offered,
“sheer talent.”

Wilcox was throwing a “shut the fuck up you
idiot” look at Gary. Gary’s mouth snapped shut.

Then Wilcox turned back to me.

“Do you know where the diamonds are?”

This I knew, but I shook my head again. I
wasn’t going to drag Duke into this mess.

Since I was such an accomplished liar, I
think he bought it.

“It’s a million dollars worth of
diamonds.”

My mouth dropped open.

Holy crap.

“It is?”

“Yes, and I think you can understand that I
want them back.”

I nodded, this time fervently.

If I had a million dollars worth of diamonds,
I’d definitely want them back. Rosie must grow seriously primo
grass to get paid a million dollars in diamonds for it.

Gary moved slightly, looking out the window,
then he murmured, “Nightingale’s here.”

This news sent a surge of hope through me as
I immediately decided that, just for the next thirty minutes or so,
I wasn’t avoiding Lee.

Wilcox didn’t say anything at first, he just
watched me.

“Are you sure you don’t know where Rosie
is?”

“San Salvador?” I tried, and I wasn’t
joking.

He smiled, he thought I was amusing. It was
an oily smile and my skin started crawling again.

Lee walked in. I turned my head to him, the
ice still held to my face.

One look and I could understand why these
guys were scared of him.

This was a Lee I’d never seen.

He was still wearing his jeans, skintight,
navy tee and biker boots and his hands hung loose and casual at his
sides. However, the minute he entered, any other presence was
forced from the room as his invaded. His eyes were hyper-alert and
sharp, he was emanating pure, brutal energy and he was seriously
and obviously pissed off.

He stopped and glanced at the ice on my
face.

A muscle in his cheek jumped.

Uh-oh.

He cut his eyes to Wilcox.

“I thought we had an understanding,” Lee
said.

Wilcox had come to his feet. He put his hands
up in a placating gesture.

“Lee, it was a mistake. I just wanted to have
a talk with your girl here and things got out of hand.”

“Coxy, things are gettin’ out of hand a lot
these days. Who hit her?” Lee’s pissed off glance slid to Goon
Gary.

Wilcox looked to Gary and I looked to
Gary.

Gary looked a little pale.

“Let me take care of it,” Wilcox said.

“You don’t tell me, I’ll go through every one
of your men, that way, I’ll be sure to get the fuck.”

Holy shit.

I nearly wet myself.

The way Lee said that made me shiver and
not
in the usual way Lee made me shiver.

Wilcox sighed, obviously overwhelmed by the
stupidity of his workforce. Clearly, sometimes it’s tough being the
leader of the bad guys.

“It was Teddy,” Wilcox answered.

Lee nodded, walked toward me and pulled me
off the couch.

“It was nice to meet you,” Wilcox said calmly
as Lee escorted me out of the room, his hand curled around my upper
arm.

I looked over my shoulder and said (perhaps
feeling a bit tougher now that Scary Lee was with me). “The
pleasure was all yours.”

I heard him laugh as we left.

Lee did not laugh, Lee ignored the whole
exchange.

Lee put me into the passenger seat of his
silver Crossfire and got in the driver’s side, started the car and
we shot from the curb. Before I could say a word, he grabbed his
cell and punched a number.

“Pick up Teddy and take him to the office,”
he paused, “Coxy’s boy.”

Then he hit a button and tossed the cell on
the console.

Yep, angry.

“Ally...” I started to say.

“She’s fine.”

I took in a breath.

“How did you know where I was?”

“I’ve got a man at Rosie’s. He saw the whole
thing.”

Uh, say what?

“Why didn’t he do something?” I asked,
somewhat loudly.

“He didn’t know who you were,” Lee paused,
“
now
he knows.”

Yikes.

I decided not to talk loudly anymore.

“You have a man?”

His eyes moved to me, his face was blank, he
was still angry. He turned back to the road.

“I have a lot of men.”

“Oh.”

I found that surprising but I decided that
maybe it was not the time to give Lee the third degree about his
secret life, such as how many men he had and how he knew lowlife
kidnapping scum like “Coxy”. I wasn’t even certain I wanted to know
about his secret life, in fact, I think I was more certain I
didn’t
want to know.

Maybe it was the time to begin planning how
to avoid Lee again. However, I didn’t know how to accomplish that
when I was actually
with
Lee.

The house I was taken to was in the Denver
Country Club area, very ritzy, very wealthy. Lee hit Speer
Boulevard and drove faster than was allowed or safe, changing lanes
on the three lane road deftly and often. I decided it was probably
best not to say anything about this as Lee’s energy wasn’t exactly
inviting conversation and definitely not admonishments about
driving safety.

He passed the turn to Broadway.

“I need to go back to the store,” I informed
him.

He ignored me.

“Lee, I need to get back to the store,” I
repeated.

He continued to ignore me and headed
downtown, toward his condo.

Damn.

I sat back and crossed one arm on my stomach,
still holding the ice to my cheek and I evaluated my situation.

Firstly, I clearly was not in any position of
power here. Lee was driving, Lee was angry and Lee was, as per
usual, going to do whatever he damn well wanted to do.

Secondly, I’d been kidnapped. I tried to
ignore that.

Thirdly, I’d been kidnapped. I couldn’t
ignore that.

Big, bad, steroid-fuelled guys dragged me out
of my car, made me go unconscious somehow and took me someplace I
didn’t want to go.

Post-traumatic stress settled in and my hands
started shaking.

Lee drove into the underground garage, parked
and came around to open my door. We walked to the elevator, Lee’s
hand at the small of my back.

We stood together in the elevator. Curiosity
and a desire to end the frightening silence made me say, “They did
something to make me black out.”

“Stun gun,” Lee replied shortly, his features
showing his thoughts were grim.

I started shaking some more. Someone had
stun-gunned me.

Holy crap.

I’d never even
seen
a stun gun before,
now one had been used on me.

He let us into his apartment and I followed
him into the kitchen. I was mildly surprised when he took a gun out
of the back waistband of his jeans and set it on the kitchen
counter.

Being the daughter of a cop, guns didn’t
scare me. Dad taught me years ago how to respect a firearm. He did
this by showing me how to use them, taking me to the shooting range
a couple of times a year and lecturing a lot. He was always careful
with his guns in the house, what with me, Ally and all of our
friends running around. Nevertheless, Lee casually setting a gun on
the kitchen counter like it was a pizza cutter was a trifle
frightening.

Then he turned and opened his mouth to
speak.

Or, by the look on his face, perhaps
roar.

Before he could get a word in, I threw up
both of my hands, waving around the ice bag.

“Don’t start!” I yelled and let the trembling
take over my body just as I felt tears sting the backs of my
eyes.

Definitely delayed reaction.

To keep from crying, or collapsing, I started
shouting.

“Oh. My.
God!
I’ve just been
stun-gunned and kidnapped and hit in the face by a guy! And it
hurt
!” Lee closed his mouth and started toward me but I
threw out my arm to ward him off. “No, no, no! Don’t come near me!”
He stopped and crossed his arms on his chest.

I paced to the sink, and then back, then to
the sink, and so on, holding the ice to my cheek with one hand and
waving the other one around in the air, the whole time
babbling.

“I mean, this is unreal! Rosie’s disappeared
and he’s half-idiot so who knows where he is. I’ve been shot at,
stun-gunned, pulled out of bed in the middle of the night by my
ankle
! There’s a million dollars worth of diamonds out there
and that dude wanted to have a chat with
me
about them. I
don’t know anything about them. I haven’t even
seen
them!
What’s worse, I think Grandpa Munster has the hots for me and I
think you’ve just done something that makes me owe you another
favor, which does
not
make me happy.” I took a breath and
continued. “Not to mention, I’m dog-tired. I’ve not been able to
have my nap yet today and last, but definitely
not
least,
I’m starving because I had cupcakes for lunch! Cupcakes!”

I’d stopped my tirade standing in the middle
of his kitchen, my arms straight down, my hands clenched into
fists, the ice bag dripping and I was trying not to cry. I’d been
brought up by a man without a wife who loved me to death but also
wanted a boy. Crying wasn’t something that was tolerated. Crying
was sissy.

I took a shaky breath to control my emotions
and I think my bottom lip may have trembled. Lee assessed that the
shouting was over and took a step toward me, grabbed the bag of
ice, threw it in the sink and slid his hands around my waist.

“Cupcakes?” he asked.

I hauled in another shaky breath.

“Yes, cupcakes.”

The wrinkles next to his eyes creased.

“We need to get you some food.”

I nodded in agreement.

His grim thoughts were gone and so was his
anger. His face had changed, the tightness relaxed, something
entirely different there.

One of his hands went to my temple by where
Terrible Teddy socked me in the face and Lee tucked my hair behind
my ear. Then he let his hand rest against my hair with his thumb
splayed and gentle on the underside of me cheekbone. His gaze
rested on my cheek for a couple of beats then he looked in my
eyes.

“First, maybe we should do the nap,” he said
quietly.

I ignored his soft touch and his words, which
held a little promise of what might happen before or after the nap
(or both).

I’d had enough.

I needed a bottle of red wine and a darkened
room and the Disco Nap to beat all Disco Naps. And not one that
happened with Lee next to me, preferably one that happened with Lee
not even in the same state as me.

“I’d like to go home please,” I requested,
trying to sound calm and rational, over my tirade and unaffected by
his intimate gesture.

He changed the subject.

“I told you this morning to stay in the
condo,” he said this with just a hint of soft menace but more
accepting-yet-frustrated-annoyance (yes, I could read all this in
his tone, I’d known Lee a long time).

“I don’t often do what I’m told,” I
noted.

He shook his head, likely a gesture to
indicate he thought of my stupidity as irritating but cute (at
least I hoped so).