Rock Chick 06 Reckoning (8 page)

“I have a boyfriend!” I was stil yel ing, getting panicky, somewhat desperate and now kind of lying. I’d never describe Eric as my boyfriend. I didn’t know what he was but he wasn’t my boyfriend. I hadn’t even slept with him. It had been a long dry spel ; I hadn’t slept with anyone since Mace.

Mace kept grinning. “You’l have to find a way to let him down easy.”

Was he for real?

“Oh my God! You didn’t just say that.”

“Yeah, I did.” He reached forward, grabbed my hips and pul ed me to him again. I pushed back. He ignored this and kept talking. “I’ve been thinkin’ and I decided we should stay at your place. Juno’s used to it and I miss your big bed.”

Wait a second, what was going on here?

“Do you think…?” For some reason my voice was raspy, so I cleared my throat. “Do you think we’re getting back together?”

“Getting? No,” Mace answered then continued, “Back together? Yes.”

Nope, he was definitely not for real.

This was a dream but I couldn’t tel yet if it was a good dream or a bad dream. I was going with bad dream since I knew how it was likely to end.

“You jerk!” I shouted.

He grinned.

“Stop grinning at me. We are
not
back together!” For your information, yes, I was stil shouting.

“Give me one good reason why we shouldn’t get back together,” Mace demanded.

I looked at the ceiling and replied, real y bitchy, “Oh, I don’t know.” Then I looked back at him and continued, “You broke up with me, broke my heart, left me alone to put my life back together without you in it. Now I have, my life was just fine, until you got me shot at. I’m not going back, Mace.

Nunh-unh. No way.”

His grin died when I mentioned the “getting shot at” bit.

Then he asked me, “If your life was just fine, why were you singin’ to me about how lonesome you were?”

“It’s just a song, Mace.”

“Bul shit,” he clipped, impatient with my lying. “Stel a, you told me yourself, none of the songs you sing are just songs.” Okay, he had me there. I couldn’t keep fighting that point.

I’d definitely lose.

“What about when you can’t take my groupies anymore?

When you get fed up with the band? What then, Mace? You leave again? Or you ask me to leave the band? Which one would work for you? Because neither one of those options works for me. Either way, I lose something important to me.”

“So, I’m important to you?”

Effing hel . I walked right into that one, hel , I’d set
myself
up to walk into that one.

I yanked hard and pul ed away from him again.

“You were,” I told him. “I’m over it now. My point was –” I stopped talking because his hand shot out, his fingers cupped the back of my head and he pul ed me forward. He leaned into me so close I could feel his breath on my lips and I could see nothing but his eyes.

“This conversation is finished,” he announced and my eyes got big at another demonstration of his sheer arrogance. “I fucked up and hurt you. It won’t happen again.” His fingers tensed around my head and his deep voice dropped low. “I promise you, Kitten, it won’t happen again.

You don’t trust me now but I’l make it so you wil . You say you can’t forgive me but I’l find a way to change your mind.” I was beginning to get scared. If I was being honest, I was actual y shooting straight toward terrified.

“Mace –”

He talked through me saying his name. “But you didn’t open up to me so I didn’t know how you felt, what I had and what I’d leave behind. That won’t happen again either.”

“Okay, my new point is, regardless of al that, you
did
leave me behind,” I snapped, pul ing my ragged desperation close and pushing against his hand.

“It won’t happen again,” he repeated and he sounded sure.

I was
not
sure. “You’re right because we aren’t getting back together.”

“Yeah, we are.”

“Mace, we are
not
.”

“Kitten, it’s done.” Now he sounded even
more
sure!

“It isn’t!” I shouted.

His eyes went even more intense, more alert and he looked…

Oh effing hel , he looked like he looked right before he’d make his move to kiss me with the intent of bedding me, energized, aroused and definitely,
definitely
hot.

I held my breath.

“You chal enging me?” he murmured softly.

I had the distinct feeling I’d painted myself into a corner.

Okay, screw the paint job, Stella Gunn, just exit the
effing room!
My brain advised.

“No. I’m not chal enging you. I’m just saying –” He cut me off, “Chal enge accepted.”

Shitsofuckit!

“Mace –”

His fingers tensed, bringing my face even closer, so close, his mouth was nearly on mine.

I stopped breathing.

“Remember, Kitten…” he started.

Effing hel , I could feel his lips moving against mine.

And I liked it.

“What?” I bit off.

I watched his eyes smile. “I always win.”
Chapter Four

It’s Decided

Mace

“So, it’s decided,” Lee said.

It was late.

The Nightingale Men were in the down room at the Nightingale Investigations offices with Eddie, Hank, Marcus Sloan, Sergeant Wil ie Moses, Lieutenant Malcolm Nightingale (Lee’s Dad) and Lieutenant Tom Savage (Indy’s Dad).

“It’s decided,” Eddie agreed.

Kai “Mace” Mason was sitting on a chair pul ed in from the control room. Mace leaned forward, put his elbows on his knees, linked his fingers and looked at his boots.

Hector was pissed. Mace didn’t even have to look at him to know he was pissed.

Then again, Hector didn’t have a woman who was targeted for murder and only Mace had a woman whose blood had already been spil ed.

Mace closed his eyes on that thought and the only thing he could see was Stel a’s thigh, her smooth, soft skin gaping open, wet and bloody.

He opened his eyes again.

“Mace,” Lee cal ed.

Mace’s head came up. When his attention had been captured, it wasn’t Lee who spoke but Lee’s father.

“You worked hard on this, son. You ‘n’ Hank ‘n’ Eddie got close. But now the girls are on the line. There’s no shame in what we’re doin’,” Malcolm told Mace.

Mace nodded. He knew that. He didn’t feel shame.

He felt relief.

He hadn’t slept the night before. If he closed his eyes his brain gave him three options. The first, seeing Stel a’s wound. The second, watching her cover her head when bul ets were flying around her. The third, the memory that she was bleeding in the backseat and tried to tel him but he didn’t listen.

It would seem he hadn’t paid much attention to Stel a and he thought, when they were together, he’d paid a great deal.

Last night, instead of sleeping, he just lay behind her, listening to her breathe and thinking that sound was sweeter than any song he’d ever heard her sing. And his Stel a had a beautiful voice, he’d never heard better.

“You got something on your mind?” Lee asked.

“Yeah,” Mace replied.

“Now’s the time to talk about it,” Lee told him.

Mace didn’t speak. He wasn’t big on talking through his feelings.

“She’s tough,” Luke threw in, going direct to the heart of the matter.

Mace’s eyes moved to Luke and he went to the heart of the matter too. “Last night, she got shot and a friend of hers got her brains blown out.”

Al the men in the room were silent. Al the men in the room knew that Mace knew better than anyone what it felt like to have someone you cared about murdered. Not just murdered but their brains splattered by a bul et.

The difference between Stel a and Mace was that Mace had actual y been there to see his sister’s head explode.

“You’re gonna have to stick to her,” Tom advised.

Mace nodded.

“You two solid?” Vance asked.

“I’m workin’ on it,” Mace told Vance.

Vance grinned. “By my count, it takes about two weeks to real y wear ‘em down.”

Mace shook his head in amusement. Vance was referring to his and Lee, Eddie, Hank and Luke’s wild, dangerous and intense courtships with Jules, Indy, Jet, Roxie and Ava.

“I been noticin’ that,” Mace replied.

“We’re agreed here Mace.” Hank cut into the lightening atmosphere. Hank knew Mace and Hank didn’t feel like joking.

Mace’s eyes sliced to Hank. “I’m aware of that.”

“You go maverick, seeking retribution for what they did to Stel a and Lindsey –” Hank went on.

“Going maverick means she’s on the line,” Mace interrupted Hank.

“Yeah,” Hank answered.

“That’s not gonna happen,” Mace finished and everyone could tel he meant every word.

Lee’s voice cut through the tension. “We got three unsecure homes and Vance and Monty haven’t finished with the surveil ance equipment and alarm systems yet. You got a Rock Chick, tonight, you stay at The Castle.” After Lee issued his order, Luke lifted his chin. Hank nodded. Eddie sighed. Vance smiled at his feet. Mace looked down at his boots.

“Get good rest. This isn’t over until the sit down with Sid,” Tom added.

Hector, Ike, Bobby, Darius, Monty and Matt took off.

Bobby and Matt had girlfriends, Monty, a wife and five kids.

Al of them, for some reason, hadn’t been targeted the night before but al , now, were sleeping while being watched by Brody in the control room.

Lee approached Mace.

“You got something else you wanna talk about?” Lee asked.

“Nope,” Mace answered.

“After your sister, this is cutting close to the bone,” Eddie put in, coming up on one side.

“That bone’s exposed; has been for a long time, nothing cuts close to it anymore,” Mace responded.

“It’s different when she gets under your skin.” Hank joined the group. “She’s under your skin, isn’t she?”

“Has been awhile,” Mace replied.

“Fuck, you’re screwed.” Vance came around the other side.

“Have been that way awhile too, around about the minute she turned her brown eyes on me,” Mace explained.

“The eyes? I thought you’d go for –” Luke came up to the men from behind.

“Luke,” Lee cut him off in a warning tone.

Luke half-grinned. “I was gonna say the voice. That sexy, throaty voice. Shit.”

“Gotta admit to likin’ the voice,” Eddie muttered in agreement.

“I fucked it up with her,” Mace told them, indulging an extremely unusual moment of sharing.

Luke’s hand came to Mace, his fingers tightening around Mace’s neck where it met his shoulder. The two men’s eyes locked.

“You’l sort it,” Luke said.

Luke was right, he would.

* * * * *

devices,

communication

equipment

and

bul etproof windows.

Lee’s overhead was a bitch.

Marcus was already there when they arrived.

Mace grabbed the workout bag he’d packed with his clothes and a bunch of shit he took from Stel a’s place when he let Vance in to start instal ing the cameras (he’d never given back her key, she’d never asked for its return) and he went straight to Stel a.

She was asleep on her side just like last night, smack in the middle of the bed, her long, dark brown hair al over the pil ows and fal ing in her face. Her head was tilted forward, her face resting on one of her hands, the other arm was thrown out in front of her, palm up.

She was out, didn’t even move when he came in. Likely she’d taken pain kil ers. She wasn’t a particularly light sleeper but when they were together she’d always woken up when he got home.

Juno rushed him when she heard him. Mace dropped the bag, sat on the side of the bed and rubbed the big dog down from ears to rump.

“Lie down,” he murmured when he was done.

Juno licked his hand and trotted back to the other side of the bed and settled with a groan.

Mace pul ed off his boots and clothes and slid in bed behind Stel a. He fitted his body to hers, wrapped his arm around her middle and pul ed her tight against him.

Then he listened to her breathe until he final y fel asleep.

* * * * *

Stella

Mace was there again when I woke up in the morning; his hard body pressed the length of my back. I was mostly on my side and bel y, my top leg cocked deep and even Mace’s leg was cocked the length of mine.

Yep, that was Mace, maximum physical contact.

Effing hel .

I didn’t move. I needed a battle plan to get out of bed that didn’t include me turning around and kneeing him in a place which would make it difficult for him to sire children. I was pissed at him but not enough to forget that the world would be a poorer place without Mini-Maces roaming it one day.

For your information, the day before had been hectic, even though we didn’t leave the house.

First, a lady named Shirleen showed up. She was black, had beautiful skin a shade darker than mocha and the wildest afro I’d ever seen. She kept shouting “oowee” and yel ing at different Rock Chicks, for some reason mad as al hel that no one had cal ed her to be a part of the action.

Then a guy named Tex arrived. He was enormous, had blond hair just turning to gray and a thick russet beard. He was louder than Shirleen and even angrier that no one cal ed when bul ets were flying. He kept booming “Jesus Jones” and, for some bizarre reason, he referred to Jet as

“Loopy Loo”.

Then Duke showed. I knew Duke; he worked for Indy at the used bookstore-slash-coffee house she owned cal ed Fortnum’s. I hadn’t been there in ages. Tex apparently worked there now too, by al accounts (and there were many of them), he was the best barista in the Rocky Mountains.