Rock Chick 04 Renegade (3 page)

I knew from my work with him that Roam was sliding across the edge. I never knew if I was going to get through to him. Every day I went to King’s, I held my breath, hoping he’d be there as that was the only indication that what I was doing was working.

Roam’s black eyes stared at me but he didn’t say a word.

I put my hand to his chest and shoved him against the wal of the building, next to Park’s body. Then I got in his face.

Roam was fifteen, but five inches tal er than me and, if he tried, he could take me.

He didn’t try.

“Who sold him the fucking dope?” I demanded.

“Don’t know his name.”

“Can you take me to him?”

Roam’s eyes moved, quick as a flash, surprised but not wanting to show it.

“Law,” he said and that was al he said and I knew he could.

“Tonight. You take me to him,” I said.

Roam’s face went hard and I knew why. Roam and Park had been friends since they could remember. They knew the bad times at home and the better-but-stil -shit times on the street. Sniff had come later. New on the street, Park had taken him under his wing. The three had been inseparable ever since.

Until now.

“Yeah,” Roam agreed and I knew why he did that too and that wasn’t going to happen.

“You aren’t getting involved. You show me who it is and then you’re a shadow.”

“Law,” Roam repeated.

“No, Roam. This isn’t a discussion.”

“Ain’t no place for white bitches. These people’l fuck you up,” Roam told me.

“Don’t worry about me. And don’t cal me a bitch, it’s rude.”

What could I say? I was stil the adult in the situation.

That night, Roam showed me who it was.

I didn’t go after him. I wasn’t that stupid.

Instead, I fol owed him and I planned.

I also went to Zip’s Gun Emporium and bought a gun.

Zip was as old as time, white, short, wrinkled, skinny and mostly bald except for about a dozen long, white hairs that were attached randomly to his skul .

Zip watched me as I handled the guns in his shop, making my decision.

“You ever held a gun?” he asked.

“Nope,” I answered.

“You buyin’ it for protection? To put in your purse?”

“Nope,” I repeated.

Zip watched me some more. “Goin’ after your ex?” he asked.

“Nope,” I said again.

Zip’s eyes got wide for a fraction of a second then they narrowed. “Goin’ after someone else?”

I looked at Zip.

Then, I don’t know why, maybe I needed to talk about it, maybe I needed someone to talk me out of my plan, but, for whatever reason, I told Zip about Park.

Then I told him about my plan.

Then he stared at me for what seemed a long time.

Final y, he walked down the display case, opened one up, pul ed out a black gun and said, “Glock 19, nine mil imeter. It’s light, it’s dependable and it’l fit in your purse.”

Hal elujah.

“Sold,” I said.

“Got a shooting range out back. Every day, you’re in here for at least an hour. Every day, I’l give you the hour free and I’l teach you. You don’t go on the street until you can handle that gun. Then I got some boys I want you to talk to. They’l show you how to handle yourself. Be here tomorrow at six.”

I was a little shocked but I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth so I nodded.

“Let’s fil out the paperwork,” Zip finished.

Zip made me practice shooting until my arms ached.

Sometimes, one of his boys, Heavy or Frank, would come get me and take me out and they’d show me other things.

They taught me about knives (mostly, how to avoid them, but also how to handle them). They also taught me how to scrap; how to punch; how to duck; how to drive; how to use stun guns, tasers and mace; how to be quiet; how to be invisible; and how to disappear.

Most importantly, Heavy taught me, “You get in a tussle, go for the gonads. Always.”

It was good advice but I didn’t expect to get that close.

I expected to be a nuisance.

I was going to use guerril a tactics.

And I did.

I fol owed Park’s kil er and, while he was off making a sale, I used one of Zip’s knives and slashed al his tires.

Sure, it might seem sil y and immature but you make a drug sale, you want to get away and make another sale, not cal AAA.

Then during one of Park’s kil er’s sales, while hidden, I threw a smoke bomb at them, interrupting the sale and freaking everyone way, the hel , out. I didn’t expect he lost his customers; drug addicts would get over a freak out when they needed a score. Stil , it would aggravate the dealer and that was what I was after.

Then I fol owed Park’s kil er some more and saw his supplier.

Then I fol owed his supplier.

Then I slashed
his
tires.

I did this a lot, messing with their heads, doing stupid, annoying shit that got right up their noses. My favorite was the plastic wrap I attached back and forth on the doorway when the dealer was taking a break from destroying people’s lives and banging his girlfriend. When he was done, he walked through the plastic wrap on the door and, for a second, had no idea what he’d walked through. He’d started yel ing and carrying on, throwing his arms everywhere, plastic wrap clinging to him.

I watched the whole thing and nearly pee’d my pants laughing.

During the day, I listened to the kids.

At night, I eavesdropped on the dealers, the suppliers and the junkies.

This was how I learned the street, or part of it anyway.

I paid attention, I memorized faces, names and places and I spent a lot of time with Zip, Heavy and Frank.

And I widened my net.

Sal Cordova was my first mistake.

Cordova was a smal time supplier and part-time dealer and I got up his nose too, just for the hel of it, mainly because he was a swaggering jerk who thought he was God’s gift to women. Fol owing him, hiding in the shadows in bars and watching him, I noticed he seriously thought he was God’s gift to women, even when the women didn’t agree. I worried that Sal Cordova was the kind of guy who would
make
a woman agree.

One could say Sal was good-looking. He was a couple inches tal er than me, decent body (not Vance Crowe-esque but then again, who was?), light brown hair, blue eyes.

Problem was, Sal was a jerk, he was a letch and he was so stupid, I got cocky.

One day I got close, sliding into the opposite side of a booth in front of him at a greasy spoon.

He looked at me, surprised then he smiled, thinking I was coming on to him.

“Hey darlin’,” he said and winked.

Um…
pu-lease
.

“I’m Jules,” I told him, trying not to vomit.

“Hey Jules.” His smile widened.

Okay, so that was al I could take.

I didn’t waste any time and told him why I was there.

“Sel dope to kids, any kids, including the runaways, you’l be out of business. Remember, I’m watching.” Then I got up and left.

As I said, cocky.

And cocky was not good.

That’s when people, not the right kind of people, found out who I was.

out who I was.

Zip was not pleased.

“Girl, you got a screw loose,” Zip said.

When I told Nick (I told Nick everything, I did this because he’d find out anyway, I learned that a
long
time ago), to say Nick was not pleased was an understatement.

“Are you out of your flippin’ mind?” Nick yel ed.

I didn’t answer. I learned a long time ago too that silence was the best way to go with Nick.

It was Roam and Sniff who spread the name Law.

Roam knew me, he knew what I was like and he’d heard about my antics on the street. He figured out it was me right away and he made a mistake. He told Sniff.

Sniff could never keep his mouth shut about anything and he loved Park, they both did, so Sniff and Roam thought what I was doing was the shit.

By the time I talked Sniff into keeping his mouth shut, it was too late. I was Law and that was it.

Sal took my approaching him in the greasy spoon as a chal enge. Not that he wanted to “shut me down” as Crowe did, but that he wanted something else entirely from me.

Something icky when you thought about doing it with Sal (way
not
icky when you thought about doing it with Crowe, but I didn’t go there).

So, instead of coming after me to stop me from getting up his nose, if you could believe this, Sal Cordova was actual y trying to get me to go out with him.

Yes, that’s exactly how stupid he is.

Al of this brought me to my current predicament.

Sal had caught up with me and made his intentions clear.

I’d told him to go fuck himself.

He got a little excited and there was a bit of a car chase.

We ended up in a guns drawn face off in the middle of a busy, one way, four lane street, right in front of a used bookstore that was the known hangout for Lee Nightingale and his boys.

The rest was history.

* * * * *

“Yeah Boo. You cal ed it. Meow,” I answered.

My phone rang and I got up, mental y shook away my memories, dislodged Boo on an angry “Meow!” and walked across the room to pick it up.

“Hel o?”

“You’re fuckin’ loco. Loco!” Zip shouted in my ear.

I guessed word of my faceoff with Cordova had made the rounds.

“Zip –” I started.

“You’re off duty. You’re lyin’ low. Least a week, maybe a month, maybe forever,” Zip interrupted me.

“I’m not lying low,” I told him.

Zip talked over me, in ful rant.

“It isn’t Cordova. You could handle Cordova, hel , a five year old could handle Cordova. We’re talkin’ Lee Nightingale now.
Lee Nightingale
. Do you
know
who was in fuckin’ Fortnum’s Bookstore watchin’ you be a hotshot, shootin’ out Cordova’s tires like you were in a goddamned Hol ywood movie?”

“Um...” I said.

“No?” Zip didn’t let me answer. “First off, Lee fuckin’

Nightingale. Then Hank fuckin’ Nightingale. Make matters worse, Eddie fuckin’ Chavez. Two officers of the goddamned law.”

“Zip –” I tried to butt in.

He ignored me.

“And if you already weren’t screwed three ways ‘til Sunday, Luke fuckin’ Stark, Kai fuckin’ Mason and Vance fuckin’ Crowe.”

“Wel , I knew about Crowe,” I said.

And I guessed the rest, or some of them.

It wasn’t good that I had the attention of the Nightingale brothers and Chavez, but Crowe had said he’d talk to them.

Having Stark and Mace witnessing me face down Cordova was kind of embarrassing. If word was even remotely correct, Stark was one badass mother. Kai Mason, known as Mace, was also known for not being far behind Stark in the badass mother stakes (not to mention he had a reputation for having a seriously short fuse).

“Oh yeah? How’s that?” Zip asked, interrupting my moment of mortified reflection.

“He kinda caught up with me,” I told Zip.

Silence.

“Zip?”

“He there?” Zip asked.

Zip’s question confused me. “Sorry?”

“Crowe, is he with you now?”

“No. Of course not. We had a talk. He let me go.”

“He’s not there?” Zip asked, surprise evident in his tone.

“Um… no.” I drew out the “no” thinking, maybe, Zip had final y lost what marbles he had left.

“You sure he isn’t there?”

That’s when I got a chil up my spine and looked out the front window.

No Harleys in sight.

I let out a breath.

“He’s not here Zip. What are you going on about?”

“Crowe’s got a way with the ladies. You look like you do, which you do, you get in his sights, he’l nail you faster ‘n snot.”

I rol ed my eyes to the ceiling.

Pu-lease.

“I hardly think so,” I said.

“Girl, you’re loco. Pure loco. What’d Crowe say during this talk?”

“Not much,” I lied.

I was already freaked out and Zip was pissed off. I didn’t want to get Zip more pissed off which would serve only to heighten my freak out.

“He get a good look at you?” Zip asked.

I would guess the answer to that was “yes” considering his face was an inch from mine and his body was pressed against me.

My bel y fluttered just thinking about it.

I ignored the bel y flutter (again).

“Yeah. Zip, don’t worry about it.”

“These boys got a way about ‘em, Jules. They don’t fuck around. They see somethin’ they want, they get it. They’re fuckin’ famous for it. A woman don’t stand a chance. He seem interested?”

I had no idea the answer to that and I didn’t care (wel , maybe a little but I had bigger fish to fry).

“Listen, Zip, honestly, there’s nothing to worry about. We went our separate ways. I’l be smarter, I’l be more quiet. I’l be –”

“Laid, good and simple. Crowe got a good look at you, you’re his. You’re gonna be fucked and I mean that literal y.”

“Zip!” I yel ed, shocked.

He ignored me. “Though, this may not be a bad thing.

Crowe won’t want a woman of his gal ivantin’ around town, lettin’ off smoke bombs, slashin’ tires and puttin’ herself out there. You’ve been noticed. You’re gettin’ a lot of attention.

It makes me
un
-comfortable. You get me? You were supposed to be invisible, you ain’t invisible. Everyone knows about ‘The Law’. Heavy and Frank and me been talkin’…”