Rock Chick 06 Reckoning (9 page)

Duke was a Harley guy, long gray hair in a braid, thick gray beard, always wearing a black leather vest over a Harley shirt and a rol ed, red bandana around his forehead.

He was gruff with a velvet and stone Sam El iott voice but he was a good guy. He walked in, counted heads, muttered, “Shee-it, we’re al fucked,” and walked out again, not to return.

Then a big black man strol ed in. He scanned the room and his eyes hit me. Then he looked at Shirleen and stated,

“You owe me fifty bucks. I told you it would be the Hawaiian.”

My eyes went to Ava.

“They had a bet to see which Hot Bunch Boy would get picked off next by a Rock Chick,” Ava explained.

A bet?

These people
bet
on this shit?

Effing hel .

“His name is Mace, you jackass,” Shirleen shot back.

“I try not to learn their names. If I know their names, means I know them and if I know them, I gotta go to their funerals when they get themselves blown to shit,” Smithie returned.

I stopped breathing.

“That’s Smithie,” Jet whispered to me. “He seems tough but he’s actual y a very caring person.”

Right.

“Smithie! A little sensitivity, if you don’t mind,” Roxie warned, her gaze sliding to me.

Smithie’s eyes came back to me. “Yeah, heard you got shot. Flesh wound. Big deal. These bitches seen worse.” Oh my God! Were these people insane?

“Stop cal ing us bitches!” Al y snapped.

“Crazy white bitches, the lot of you. ‘Cept you.” He nodded at Shirleen. “You’re a crazy black bitch. Fuck,” Smithie finished then walked out before Shirleen could lose her mind like she looked like she was about to do.

“He was just here to see if we were al right,” Indy assured me.

I was beginning to think the whole bunch of them were beyond insane, they were certifiable.

Then Annette showed. She was Roxie’s best friend, just moved to Denver from Chicago and about to open her new head shop cal ed “Head West”. She already had one in Chicago, now re-christened “Head East”.

“Yo bitches!” she shouted when she arrived.

Yep, these people were certifiable.

“Okay, let me get this straight.” Annette stood in the doorway staring at us. “First, you al meet Roxie, now that’s
after
Indy got kidnapped a couple times, shot at and car bombs were exploding. And
after
Jet got shot at, kidnapped a couple of times and almost raped. Then came Roxie and I was around when Roxie was assaulted at a haunted house and held hostage at a society party after, of course, she got kidnapped. I leave and new girl Jules starts a vigilante war against drug dealers and ends up in ICU

with two bul et holes in her. Then new,
new
girl Ava survives a drive-by, gets kidnapped repeatedly and ends up on a wild ride, exiting a wrecked car right before it explodes.

Now
all of you
are getting shot at… at the same time?”

“That about sums it up,” Al y told her.

“Denver is cah-ray-zee,” Annette announced. “I love this fuckin’ place!”

Total y certifiable.

“Oh my God!” Annette screamed making me jump and scaring the beejeezus out of me. Her eyes were locked on something across the room. “You got a PlayStation 3? I’m going out right now and getting Guitar Hero!” Off she went to get Guitar Hero and when she came back we al stood around playing Guitar Hero, sometimes two of us at a time.

Now I could stand in front of a heaving crowd of hundreds of people playing Ram Jam’s “Black Betty”. What I could
not
do was stand in Daisy’s living room with a toy guitar in my hands and get through the length of Boston’s

“More Than a Feeling” on beginner level, which meant I only had to master three buttons, without getting “booed off the stage”.

What was up with
that?

Later, Daisy sent one of the be-suited members of the big gun toting army out to get the items on a grocery list I wrote. Jules’s uncle Nick came over after he finished work and he helped me as I made herb-buttered salmon wrapped in puff pastry, potatoes dauphenois with cheese and steamed asparagus. None of the Rock Chicks offered culinary assistance, which was cool because it meant Nick and I could get to know each other and he thought everyone was certifiable too.

“They may al be kooks,” Nick said, “but they’re lovable.” Sheesh.

Most everyone loved the food (Annette: “You might be shit at Guitar Hero but your cooking is
phat
.”). Tex declared Nick and my meal “fancy-ass nonsense” and went out and got himself takeout chicken burritos (smothered, with lettuce and cheese) from El Tejado.

When Tex got back, we al played more Guitar Hero.

By that time, my hip hurt, like, a lot.

Indy saw the pain pinching at my mouth and leaned into me. “Lee cal ed and said if I didn’t hear from him, we’d be staying here tonight.”

This was not good news. I real y wanted to go home.

However, I also wanted my heart to be beating, my lungs to be working, my blood to be flowing through my veins and my brain to be functioning a lot more than I wanted to go home. Therefore I decided against throwing a hissy fit, going home and likely getting murdered on my way there.

I took the last two pain kil ers the doctor gave me and Juno and I crashed.

For your information, none of the Rock Chicks asked me about my tête-à-tête with Mace, mainly because they heard my side of it as I’d been shouting and they’d been eavesdropping.

This brought me up to now.

In bed. Again. With Mace.

I moved cautiously forward hoping he wouldn’t notice.

His arm got tight.

Yep, he noticed.

“Mace, let me go.”

He didn’t let me go.

He buried his face in my hair and murmured in a rough, tired, deep voice, “Christ, I feel like I’ve had ten minutes of sleep.”

This was a toughie. Back in the day (as in, the day before yesterday), if I heard that, I would have barred the door and taken down anyone who dared to disturb Mace’s rest (unless, of course, they were a member of my band).

But that was the day before yesterday.

“Mace, let me go,” I repeated.

His chin moved my hair.

“You stil use the same shampoo,” he said against the skin at the back of my neck.

“Mace –”

“Smel s like mint.”

Oh lordy be.

“Mace, I need to get up and see to Juno.”

“I wanna see your wound.”

Why on earth would he want to do that?

“It’s okay,” I assured him. “Daisy gave me some ointment that’s supposed to make it heal and help the scarring. She cleaned it, treated it and then she redressed it. It’s fine.”

“I wanna see it.”

“It’s fine.”

His arm got a fraction tighter. “I’m the reason it’s there, Kitten, and I wanna see it.”

What could I say to that?

Except nothing.

So I said nothing.

I lay there awhile, my new plan being if Mace was exhausted, if I stopped yapping, he’d probably fal back to sleep. Then when he did, I’d get up and get the hel out of there.

This plan was shit therefore it failed.

Once I thought he was asleep, I tried moving away again and his arm got even tighter.

“Mace –”

“Stel a –”

Effing, effing, hel .

“I want to talk to Buzz,” I said. I didn’t know why (wel , I knew why, because I wanted to talk to Buzz).

His body went stil for a beat then he rol ed away.

I took that opportunity to attempt an escape. I was sitting on the side ready to push myself up when one of Mace’s arms went around my waist, stal ing my progress. His other hand came up in front of me. It was holding my phone.

I pul ed in a breath then I took the phone.

“Thanks,” I whispered.

He moved as I flipped it open and scrol ed down to Buzz.

I couldn’t get up because he kept his arm around me. He straddled me on a diagonal with one long thigh the length of mine, foot on the floor, his other leg stretched out beside me on the bed.

Juno was up and nuzzling the both of us, in a tizzy of excitement, not knowing who to al ow to lavish affection on her. I hit the go button to cal Buzz, put the phone to my ear and scratched Juno’s head. Mace moved the hair off my shoulder and rested his chin there.

I closed my eyes trying not to feel how good that felt.

“Stel a Bel a.” I heard in my ear.

“Hey Buzz,” I said softly. “How you doin’?”

“Not good, Stel .” The words were an understatement which, for Buzz, was a miracle. Let’s just say Buzz could be dramatic.

“I figured that,” I replied, stil using my soft voice.

Mace pressed closer to my back.

I went on, trying to ignore Mace and how good it felt, his strong presence surrounding me (another one of the seven hundred, twenty-five thousand things I missed about him most of al , FYI), “I wish there was something I could do.”

“Nothin’ to do. You got your own worries anyway. Mace told us at the band meeting yesterday.”

Erm, excuse me?

My back went straight and I didn’t have to ignore how good Mace felt anymore.

“The band meeting?” I asked, my soft voice not so soft anymore.

Mace’s arm tensed.

“Floyd cal ed an emergency meeting. Mace came with him, told us what was goin’ on,” Buzz said.

I turned narrowed eyes to Mace. His head came up from my shoulder, he took one look at me and his eyebrows went up.

Buzz kept talking in my ear. “At least it’s good you two are back together.”

My mouth dropped open and my eyes popped out.

Mace did a heavy sigh.

I looked away.

“Who told you we were back together?” I asked.

“Mace did, yesterday,” Buzz answered.

Okay, I was going to
kill
Mace. I just hoped my jury was made up mostly of jilted women but at that moment I was happy to do my time.

The bastard!

“We are not –” I started to tel Buzz but he interrupted me.

“Linnie would have been beside herself with fuckin’ glee.

She loved you two together. Think she was more upset when you two broke it off than you were.” I doubted that.

I also again had no way to respond. It was better to think of Linnie beside herself with glee than lying in a bed with half her head blown off.

Buzz finished up, “Keep safe. Don’t worry about me or the band. We’l be okay.”

I doubted that too.

“Buzz, I… um…” I didn’t know what to say. What
could
you say? “Do you need anything?” I finished lamely.

“Linnie’s parents are coming in this morning. They’re planning everything. I’l let Mace know what’s goin’ on.”

“You’l let Mace know?” I asked, my eyes went back to narrowed and this was a different kind of narrowed, a
dangerous
kind of narrowed.

Juno caught my look, read my look, knew my look, sat on her doggie heiny and woofed a “What now?” doggie woof.

“Yeah, he told us you were incommunicado and we should talk through him to you. We’re cool.” Erm, ex-kah-use
me?

“Buzz –”

“Later, Stel a Bel a.”

Disconnect.

I flipped the phone shut. Then I took a deep breath. Then I wondered where the mel ow, laidback, I don’t have time to be pissed off Stel a Gunn disappeared to.

Then I tossed the phone aside, shot from the bed breaking free from Mace’s arm and turned on him.

“You held a band meeting,” I accused.

Mace’s leg on the bed came down so he was in a ful sitting position. His elbows went to his knees, his hands dangling between them and he tilted his head back to look up at me.

In keeping the information flowing, Mace often sat like this, this was Mace’s way. For some weird reason, I always found it sexy. Now I found irritating.

“Stel a –”

“With
my
band,” I went on.

“Stel a –”

“Without
me,
” I kept at it.

Mace decided to keep silent.

You should also know Mace often fel silent when I was in rant mode.

Juno decided to woof then pant, unsure what this turn of events meant to her imminent bathroom break.

“Who happens to be the leader of the band,” I reminded him.

Mace kept his silence.

“You told them to communicate with me through you.” I was on a rol .

Mace stil didn’t speak.

I waited. Mace did too.

I was wearing nothing but a white tank top Daisy gave me and my white panties. Mace was wearing nothing but light blue boxer shorts. I ignored the state of our undress and his utterly fantastic body and put my hands on my hips.

Mace didn’t move. I lost patience.

“
How dare you come between me and my band!
” I shouted.

He started to push off the bed and I don’t know what came over me (maybe temporary certifiable insanity seeping into my pores after a day with the Rock Chicks), I launched myself at him.

Ful body.

I hit him in the chest. This surprised him and he took my weight with a grunt. My head connected with his chin which was kind of painful and his arms went around me. We fel back onto the bed, me landing on Mace.

Why I decided to wrestle with Mace, both of us barely-clothed, on a pul out bed would forever remain a mystery for the ages.

But wrestle with Mace I did.

We rol ed, we tussled, the bed creaked loudly and frighteningly. We rol ed back, we tussled some more, the bed creaked louder and more frighteningly and Juno woofed, now thoroughly confused about the current state of affairs.

I tried to gain the upper hand, an impossible feat.