Rock Chick 06 Reckoning (21 page)

“Rendez-vous,” he barked at Hector and then without hesitation he turned in the direction of Tex, Luke and Wil ie.

“Mace!” Vance clipped, his tone urgent but Mace didn’t stop.

“Fuck,” Hector snarled then his head turned and he shouted, “Lee!”

I looked to where Hector’s eyes were aimed and saw Lee jump off the stage and push through the crowd on a trajectory that would take him to Mace.

“Let’s go,” Duke said, shoving us toward the back.

“What’s he gonna do?” Al y asked her eyes on Mace.

“Move! Now!” Duke shouted and started shoving harder.

We moved. We didn’t want to, but we moved.

We knew the dril and we’d wasted enough time.

They herded us into Explorers and we went to The Castle.

* * * * *

I turned away from watching Stel a and Mace drive away in an Explorer and looked at Eddie.

His feet were bare, his chest was bare, his belt was undone and so were two buttons of his faded jeans.

As usual, Eddie looked fucking hot (definitely worth the f-word).

And, also, Eddie was obviously ready to go to bed.

Even after our adventurous night including rock ‘n’ rol in the face of certain danger, that danger coming at one of us in the form of gunfire and the Rock Chicks’ fast getaway in bul etproof SUVs, Eddie was already wound down.

This was because Eddie was a cop. Eddie’s job was dangerous, not to mention he’d survived five Rock Chick/Hot Bunch Courtships, including our own. This was just another night for Eddie.

“Is Mace okay?” I asked, dropping the curtain I had pul ed back from the window.

I asked because Mace could be a little intense and we hadn’t had time to debrief downstairs. Eddie came in before Mace and took me directly upstairs. He looked exhausted so I didn’t argue even though I wanted to know what happened, as in,
really
wanted to know.

If Mace made it to the man who shot at Stel a before someone talked him down from going berserk, Stel a and the rest of us would be visiting Mace at the local penitentiary for as long as they put people away for manslaughter.

I was taking it as a good sign that he was driving off with Stel a in an Explorer.

Though, they could be driving to Mexico as fugitives from the law for al I knew.

“Yeah. Lee control ed it before we had to lock him down,” Eddie replied, finishing with the buttons on his jeans.

Wel , that was a relief.

I walked toward him, picked up the t-shirt he’d discarded, tossed it on the bed and started to undress.

“I can’t believe they opened fire in a crowded club,” I said, pul ing off my tee.

“Sid’s crazy,” Eddie replied, his voice like a verbal shrug but there was an edge to it.

No doubt about that, Sidney Carter was definitely crazy.

No doubt about that, Sidney Carter was definitely crazy.

And maybe Eddie wasn’t wound down. Maybe Eddie just wanted to think about this later, as in, while tel ing crazy stories to our grandchildren when we were retired and living in Arizona.

I sat on the bed and yanked off my boots.

“You okay?” Eddie asked and I looked up at him.

Then I quit breathing.

He was standing there total y naked, arms crossed on his chest, eyes on me.

Eddie had no problem with nudity.

Also, it should be said, I had no problem with Eddie’s nudity.

I shrugged off thoughts of how little problem I had with Eddie’s nudity and nodded.

I was okay.

I’d learned a long time ago that if you were stil walking and breathing, it was best just to get on with it.

I got up, pul ing off my jeans then taking off my bra as Eddie got into bed. I grabbed his t-shirt and was about to tug it on when Eddie stopped me by saying, “Don’t think so.”

My arms through the sleeves of his tee but not yet having pul ed it over my head, my eyes moved to him.

“What?” I asked.

“Drop the shirt,
mi amor,
” Eddie demanded in a soft voice, his eyes, I could see from the length of the bed, were liquid.

My bel y melted.

I dropped the shirt.

Then I put hands and knees to the bed and crawled toward him, his body between my limbs. I watched his face as he watched my progress, a smile playing about his mouth as I made my way up his length. When we were face-to-face, I stopped and lowered myself ful on him.

His arms wrapped around me, one hand going into my panties at my behind.

“You okay with staying here?” I asked and watched Eddie’s liquid black eyes start glittering.

Eddie hated Marcus. Marcus hated Eddie. Our current arrangement was not an optimal situation. Both men put up with each other for the sake of Daisy and my friendship.

This was a tentative truce,
very
tentative.

Before he met me and before I met Daisy, Eddie had spent some time trying to bring Marcus down. Marcus was not clean, not by a long shot. Somewhere along the line, Eddie had pul ed back from his pursuit of Marcus and Marcus, Eddie told me, had pul ed out of some of his more vil ainous ventures. Marcus wasn’t ready to go clean and Eddie wasn’t ready to give up.

If Marcus slipped up, Eddie would nail him.

Eddie and I being houseguests of the Sloans went against Eddie’s grain.

In a big way.

Not to mention, Eddie told me last night that the Denver Police Department told him they also frowned on our current arrangement. This meant Eddie wasn’t going to win Detective of the Year. Since Eddie frequently went his own way, he’d likely never even be nominated (not that they actual y had a Detective of the Year award). I knew Eddie was okay with that, he wasn’t big on politics and working the system, he preferred to focus on the job or, at least, his way of doing it.

Eyes stil glittering, Eddie answered, “Wil in’ to do just about anything to see you safe.”

I knew what he said was true. He’d proved it more than once.

This earned him a smile and when he saw my smile, as always, his eyes went soft. This was because Eddie liked my smile, like, a lot.

I felt warmth spread in my bel y, this time it was a different kind and I dropped my head and nuzzled my face into his throat.

Eddie did an ab crunch, lifting us both, he yanked the covers from between our bodies and I swung my legs around to help him. Then he laid back, me stil ful on top of him, and he flicked the covers over us.

His hand went back into my panties, this time with intent and his other arm wrapped tight around me.

My face stil in his throat, I whispered, “Tel me about Mace.”

His hand stopped.

“Not a good idea,
cariña
.”

He sounded serious so I snuggled in closer and kissed his neck to soften him up (and because I liked to kiss his neck, he smel ed good everywhere but especial y his neck).

I had to soften him up because, for whatever reason, al the Rock Chicks had an alternate Hot Bunch guy. Indy’s was Eddie. Roxie’s was Vance. Jules’s was Luke. Ava’s was Lee.

Mine was Mace.

Mace and I had a connection. A connection Eddie didn’t like but he no longer tried to stand in the way. I knew that Mace had witnessed his sister’s murder. Our connection started when Mace saved me from getting murdered in the same way.

At first, Eddie thought Mace wanted to move in on his action but this proved not to be the case. After my trauma was over, Mace and I stayed connected. This meant, every once in awhile, Mace came over to Eddie and my place for dinner, sometimes when Eddie was there, other times when he wasn’t.

Mace didn’t talk much and he never shared but I knew he liked listening to me and he definitely liked my chil i and my meatloaf but his favorite was my roasted chicken and cheesy-garlic mashed potatoes.

Mace and I were a weird kind of friends. Because of what we shared (him saving my life, me being alive), he obviously meant a lot to me and, for some reason, I knew I meant a lot to him.

When you knew those kinds of things, you didn’t have to talk about it.

Eddie had told me about Mace’s sister but he didn’t go into detail.

Now, seeing as Mace was my alternate Hot Bunch Guy
and
next in the Rock Chick Firing Line, I needed to know
and
next in the Rock Chick Firing Line, I needed to know and I knew I could never ask Mace.

So I asked Eddie.

“I’d like to know,” I pushed.

“No, you wouldn’t.”

I lifted up on a forearm and looked down at him.

“Yeah, I would.”

“Jet –”

“His sister got murdered, Eddie. I know the story doesn’t have a happy ending.”

He watched me a beat then two then he sighed and I knew he was giving in.

I didn’t smile. Since my drama was over, living with Eddie, my sister back in Denver after spending years in LA, my mother happy, healthy again after her stroke and dating Tex, I had lots of smiling moments not counting, of course, being the target of a kil er.

But this wasn’t one of them.

He rol ed, forcing my arm out from under me until we were on our sides, face-to-face.

His hand came out of my panties but his arm stayed tight around my waist.

Then he started talking.

“Mace comes from money. Lots of it. His Mom and Dad divorced when he was young, his Dad had the money, kept it, didn’t share and went on to acquire a string of trophy wives. Mace stayed with his Mom, they moved from LA to her native Hawaii and their standard of living changed in a serious way. His Dad had another child, Mace’s half-sister, with wife number three of five. He moved on to wife after wife, leavin’ the women and kids behind with less than they were used to havin’. Mace was close to his Mom and established a long distance bond with his sister but he didn’t have much to do with his father.”

I wasn’t surprised. By the sounds of Mace’s Dad, I wouldn’t have much to do with him either.

Eddie had stopped and I watched his face, knowing from his look that what he had to share was unpleasant. My hand moved up his bel y to lie flat on his chest. When I did this, he started talking again.

“The Dad was loaded. We’re talkin’
loaded
. Not mil ions, bil ions. Even so, when he moved on to a different woman, he left the life he had behind which meant he didn’t have much to do with his kids. This meant that even though it wasn’t a significant threat, with that kind of money, there would always be a threat and he left his kids unprotected.

Because of that, the sister got kidnapped, held for ransom.”

“Oh my God,” I breathed, stunned by this even though I, too, had been kidnapped. So had Indy. And Roxie. And Ava. None of our kidnappings had been enjoyable but most of them didn’t last very long, we’d al gotten away (or been rescued), and none of us had been held for ransom.

“Mace’s Dad’s a jackass. Strong man. Wouldn’t pay the ransom, wouldn’t get the police involved. He hired his own team of commandos. They had no clue who they were dealin’ with. They fucked it up, botched the mission and, after, Mace’s Dad got his sister’s hand delivered to him in a box.”

I felt bile rise up my throat but I swal owed it down and I felt bile rise up my throat but I swal owed it down and closed my eyes tight.

Okay, so, maybe Eddie was right. Maybe I didn’t want to know.

It was too late, Eddie kept talking.

“At that point, Mace was done. He went against his father, got the police involved. They cornered the kidnappers and started negotiating. For some fuckin’

reason, the kidnappers asked for Mace to be the go-between, demanded he make the approach. The police refused until they heard her screamin’. Mace lost it, demanded to be sent in. Without much choice, her stil screamin’, they suited him up with vest and helmet and sent him in but the SWAT team was ready to go in right after him and put an end to it. The kidnappers knew they were fucked; they had no intention of negotiating. The minute Mace hit the room, before SWAT could make their move, they blew her head off and pumped eleven rounds into Mace’s vest, one through his shoulder, one through his thigh, two into his helmet before they turned their guns on themselves. It was a bloodbath. Mace was the only one to come out alive.”

This knowledge settled in my brain then entered my bloodstream and it burned like acid.

I opened my eyes and felt the wetness leaking out the sides.

“Mace was twenty-five when it happened,” Eddie continued. “His sister was sixteen.”

I tilted my chin down and pressed my forehead against Eddie’s col arbone, unable to process the idea of a sixteen Eddie’s col arbone, unable to process the idea of a sixteen year old girl enduring that before her life was cut short.

Further unable to process the idea of her brother living with that knowledge for the rest of his life.

Mainly because it was utterly un-processable.

“I got this from Lee. Mace doesn’t talk about it. And this is where the story gets fuzzy,” Eddie went on, my head tilted back, the tears stil in my eyes, and I looked at him.

“It isn’t done?” I whispered.

Eddie shook his head.

“There’s more?” I asked.

Eddie nodded his head.

“What?” I prompted, not wanting to know but needing to know al the same.

“Don’t know who they worked for, the kidnappers, but it was a big operation. The Dad was involved. Could be guns. Could be drugs. Could be deeper, uglier. It may be just because he’s an asshole that the Dad didn’t cal in the police or the FBI. It could be he was hidin’ somethin’. The kidnappers could have been after the ransom but them cal in’ Mace in with the intent to kil him smacks of retribution. Odds are, the Dad did something that required payback. That’s my guess, but I don’t have a clue and Lee won’t give me one.”