Rock Chick 04 Renegade (18 page)

His fingers pressed deeper and that felt even better.

I hooked my leg around his hip instinctively giving him easier access and I lifted my head and kissed him, our mouths open, my tongue slid inside. At this his hand went away but came back inside my panties this time and he touched me, the first time anyone touched me there (other than myself, of course). It felt so damned good, incredibly good, otherworldly good, I stopped kissing him and moaned into his mouth.

His fingers moved, my hips moved, his fingers moved more, my nails scraped his back and, after awhile of this, I felt something begin to build inside me, something exciting and beautiful and my neck arched with the sheer pleasure of it.

“Look at me Jules,” he commanded softly.

I dropped my chin and with effort opened my eyes and looked at him.

The moment I did, his finger slid inside me.

My bones turned to water.

“Vance…” I breathed.

The second I muttered his name his eyes went so intense it felt like they burned into me. His finger slid out and then back in again and I pul ed him to me as I pressed up toward him.

Then his body stil ed, his finger froze and his head came up.

I stared and it was as if ice water had been poured over my skin. He’d figured out I was a virgin.

God dammit
, I thought.

“Vance –” I began.

“Quiet, Princess,” he whispered.

It was my turn to freeze.

Gently his hand moved away and he jackknifed off me but once he gained his feet, he leaned over and brought me up with him.

He kissed me swiftly then said, “Get dressed. Get your gun. After I leave, arm the doors and windows and cal the control room.”

Then he let me go, went across the room, tagged his sweater off the floor and pul ed it on. I stared at him, stunned immobile as he pul ed his hair back into a ponytail.

He looked at me. “Now, Jules. Someone’s out there.” My body came unstuck and I dressed quickly. I had my pants on when he made a noise like a half-whistle. I looked up at him and he tossed me his phone. He had his jacket in his hand.

“Control room,” he said low and then he pul ed his gun out of his jacket, dropped the jacket on the armchair and he took off on silent feet.

I yanked my shirt on, fol owing him down the hal . By the time I made it to the kitchen, he was gone.

I locked the door, armed the alarm and went to the dresser under my bed platform and got my gun. I stood in the hal and I started to scrol his phonebook but it was the first choice. I hit the green button. It barely rang.

“Yo,” someone answered.

“This is Jules,” I said into the phone.

“Shit. Do you have another pick up?” It was Mace. “I thought you and Vance were out tonight.”

“No. Listen. I’m at my house and Vance says someone’s outside. He’s gone –” I stopped talking and my body went stiff when I heard gunfire. It was close.

Quick as I froze, I unfroze, started talking again and I bent down to pul at the buckle of the ankle strap of one of my shoes. “Gunfire, Mace, fuck.”

“We’re on it,” Mace’s voice wasn’t teasing, it was al business.

“Do you need my address?”

“No. Stay inside, stay safe –”

I heard more gunfire as I kicked off a shoe.

I interrupted him. “More gunfire.”

“Stay inside. Keep your house armed.”

“I’m going out there.”

“Stay inside, Law,” Mace ordered. “We’l be there in five.”

I kicked off the other shoe. “We don’t
have
five,” I snapped, flipped the phone shut and threw it on the bed.

I ran to the closet, pul ed out my Pumas, yanked them on and tied them as quickly as I could. Then with my gun I ran through the house, unarmed the alarm and went out.

I barely cleared the backdoor when Sal Cordova careened into me, I went backward and his arm went around me.

“Fuck, he shot me,” Sal groaned, looking up at me and leaning deep into me. I took on most of his weight and staggered with it. “Your fuckin’ partner shot me in the ass.” With the arm not locked around me, Sal was holding onto his backside.

“Jules. God dammit,” Vance was standing a few feet away. I spared him a glance; he had his gun trained on Cordova.

I bent at the knees, taking Sal down with me and planting his ass on the ground. He gave out a howl and rol ed to the side. I shrugged off his arm, bent down to yank his gun out of his hand and took a step away.

“You shot me. You shot me in my goddamned ass,” Sal whined to Vance and any worry I had for him was lost. His voice was strong, strong enough to whine. I figured he’d be okay. “You didn’t have to shoot me,” Sal went on.

Vance grabbed me around the waist and pul ed me back so I was behind him.

“You shot first,” Vance returned sharply. “What the fuck were you thinkin’?”

Um… Vance sounded pissed right the hel off. Then again, he’d been working at getting in my panties for a few days now. He was probably not pleased that five minutes after achieving his aim he’d been interrupted by having to shoot someone.

“You’re movin’ in on my action,” Sal explained.

It was my turn to be not pleased.

I turned to Sal. “Oh for God’s sake. Seriously, Sal?” I asked, not believing my ears.

“You got the hots for me, I know it. Sat right across from me –” Sal started.

“I sat across from you and threatened you,” I told him.

“Playin’ hard to get. You women always play hard to get,” Sal replied.

“Maybe it isn’t because we’re playing hard to get. Maybe it’s because we don’t want to get got in the first place,” I explained.

“Naw. It’s not that.”

Yes, Sal was that stupid.

“Do we need to cal an ambulance?” This came from somewhere to Vance and my left then Luke materialized and came to stand by Vance. He looked down on Sal.

“Yeah,” Vance responded, “although I’d rather let him bleed to death.”

“Shit,” Sal moaned.

Luke pul ed out his phone. I listened to Luke cal ing the control room and asking for the ambulance and the police.

While I did this I thought about the current situation.

The good news was, Vance hadn’t figured out I was a virgin.

The bad news was, Vance had been stopped at a real y good part.

I turned to Vance. “How long is this gonna take?” I asked impatiently.

I felt his eyes on me in the dark. Then I saw the flash of white as he smiled. Then his arm came around me and he pul ed me to him. I could focus on him better at closer range and caught his arrogant grin close up.

“Probably awhile, Princess. Longer ‘cause I’l have to get stitches.”

My breath fled my body.

When I sucked in air, I asked, “Why?”

“He tagged me. Thigh, just skimmed. I’l need to have it looked at.”

“You’re hit?” Luke said from beside us.

“It’s nothing,” Vance said and I saw Luke nod, apparently that was good enough for him.

“Crowe,” I said, weird feelings going through me, feelings I never felt before and feelings I didn’t like.

“It’s nothing,” Vance repeated.

“Crowe! It is not nothing! You’ve been shot!”

“I’ve been shot before, Jules, trust me, this is nothing.” This time instead of my breath fleeing, I sucked in air on a gasp.

“You’ve been shot before?” I asked on the exhale.

“Yeah, last time wasn’t pretty,” Luke volunteered.

“Luke’s had worse,” Vance informed me, “gut wound.”

“Survived,” Luke said casual y, “you got it in the lung.” Oh my
God
.

“Stop talking,” I snapped, cutting into their gruesome, macho trip down memory lane.

I heard Luke chuckle.

“Stop chuckling,” I clipped.

He didn’t stop chuckling but luckily the sirens heading our way drowned him out.

Then the outside light came on, the backdoor opened and Nick stood there. He took us al in wearing a real life rendition of his Morgue Face.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“God dammit,” I muttered under my breath.

* * * * *

Vance was somewhere in my duplex doing whatever he did before going to bed.

I didn’t know how I got talked into letting him spend the night with me, though I had to admit, it didn’t take much. I figured it was partial y payback for the favor to be nice to Roam, partial y the fact that I felt responsible for him getting shot.

Earlier, outside, before the ambulance came, I’d explained things to Nick and his mouth got tight. He looked like he was ready to tie me up in an attic room and leave me there until I died so I wouldn’t get anyone else shot in one of my fool crusades (luckily, we didn’t have an attic room).

The ambulance came and carted off the moaning, whining Sal. The police came at the same time and talked to everyone, including me.

I final y got a chance to see (though not meet) Hank Nightingale and Eddie Chavez.

Hank looked like a Nightingale, tal and dark, except he was the handsome Al -American boy stayed good. Chavez was just as freakishly good-looking as the rest of The Boys.

They did flybys, likely hearing that Vance got shot and coming to check he was okay. When they came Vance was sitting on my back stoop; a paramedic had cut away the thigh of his jeans and was checking his wound. I was standing several feet away with Nick. Both Hank and Eddie glanced in my direction and they didn’t look like they were card carrying members of Indy and the girls’ Welcome Wagon.

Lee swung by too, another flyby to check on Vance. He didn’t stay long then he was gone.

I talked with a police detective named Jimmy Marker. I gave him a slightly tweaked version of the Sal Cordova story making Sal sound like a garden-variety stalker (which, in a way, he was).

When I was done talking, Detective Marker looked at me and asked, “You Law?”

I kept my eyes on him, my face blank and my mouth shut.

“Know you’re workin’ with Heavy,” Marker said.

I was surprised but kept silent.

“Heavy’s a good man,” Marker went on.

I nodded once, not sure where this conversation was going.

“What you’re doin’ is stupid and unsafe,” he continued.

Now I knew where this conversation was going and I kept quiet.

“You should stop or you’l get yourself kil ed,” he advised and his voice was both sharp and concerned. I figured they taught this in cop school.

I didn’t reply.

“Or you’l get someone else kil ed,” he finished.

It took a great deal of effort but I stayed silent and didn’t bite my lip like I wanted to.

He watched me, shook his head and then muttered, strangely, under his breath, “These boys need to get their heads examined.”

Then he walked away.

I drove Vance to the hospital in my Camaro.

He was right, it wasn’t that bad. He got cleaned up, stitched up, came out of the treatment room with his jeans on, the thigh cut away and I could see a white bandage there.

We went back to Hazel.

“Where do you live?” I asked when we were standing by Hazel.

Before I knew what he was about, he took the keys from my hand.

“Spendin’ the night with you,” he replied.

“What are you doing? Give me my keys,” I made a grab for them but he yanked them out of reach.

“Get in the car,” he ordered.

“No one drives Hazel but me,” I told him.

“Hazel?” he asked.

“My Camaro,” I replied.

He stared at me for a beat then grinned and shook his head as if I was downright adorable. This caused me to feel that sweet warmth again but I shook it off and focused on our current verbal tussle.

“Crowe,” I said warningly.

The grin faded. “Please don’t argue, Jules. Just get in the car.” This he said in a weary voice.

I sucked in my lips, his weary voice getting to me. I walked to the passenger side and Vance took me home.

Upon entry he locked the door behind us and turned to arm my alarm and I went directly to my dressers, rooting through them to find my least sexy night apparel (I had none). I settled on a baby blue silk nightgown that looked like an old fashioned slip. It was tight against the midriff, had an a-lined skirt that skimmed my knees and a thick rim of ecru lace along the top and bottom edges. I stalked to the bathroom, leaving Vance to do whatever he wanted to do (which was what he’d do anyway).

Now,
I
didn’t know what to do. The heat of the moment was over and my emotional Rottweiler had woken up and was on the alert.

I put my hair in a sloppy bun at the back of my head with a ponytail holder, stared at my face in the mirror, took a deep breath, squared my shoulders and left the bathroom.

Better to get it over with, whatever “it” might be.

The house was dark when I got out of the bathroom except a dim light came from the bed platform. I went to the steps, climbed up one and saw Vance under the covers, comforter up to his waist, a bunch of my pil ows behind his back so he was sitting up.

His chest was bare. Boo was lying smack in the middle of it, his tail sweeping in a wide arc along Vance’s abs and waist. Vance was stroking him and I could hear Boo purring from where I was standing.

Clearly Boo didn’t object to a new presence in the house.

Vance’s eyes moved to me and I climbed into bed as graceful y as I could (which I feared wasn’t graceful at al ).

Then I crawled to the opposite side, as far away from Vance as I could get, and got under the covers.

I laid back, stared at the ceiling and wondered what Vance had on under the covers, if he had anything on at al .