Rock Chick Regret

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Rock Chick Regret Page 18

by Kristen Ashley


  “Let me go,” I demanded.

  “Not a chance,” Hector returned instantly, the blank look disappearing as his eyes flashed with annoyance. Then he said what I personally thought was bizarrely, “Spent a year hopin’ you’d give me the opportunity to try this. Now that you have, I’m gonna take it and we’ll see how it plays out.”

  Before I could ask what he was talking about or demand him to let me go again or, better still, tear out of his arms and make a run for it, one of his hands slid up my back into my hair, his head lowered, I opened my mouth to protest and his mouth was on mine.

  I put my hands to his shoulders to push him away at the same I pulled my head back but his head came with mine, his tongue slid inside my mouth and (damn and blast!) my Sorceress of the Antarctic disintegrated right on the spot.

  His heat hit me (and another kind of heat hit me in other places) and my hands stopped pushing at his shoulders. I went up on tiptoe, my casted hand curled around his neck, the fingers of my other hand slid into his thick hair.

  Apparently unable to control myself, I pressed into him and kissed him back.

  This was one of his urgent, fiery kisses. The ones that tore through me, taking all reason and rational thought with it and leaving me with nothing but the heat and the desire to lose myself completely in the kiss and in him.

  Right when it was getting good and, later, when I thought about it, when I knew that he knew that he had me right where he wanted me, his mouth broke from mine. He lifted his head barely an inch but he kept me locked to him.

  His eyes were as fiery as the kiss and back to intense and they scanned my face quickly before he said, “Now that my Sadie is back, I’ll tell her that I’ll be at the gallery to pick her up and take her to the hospital to have the cast removed. I don’t give a fuck if Bex is there, mamita, you aren’t fuckin’ goin’ without me and I won’t be pleased if you make me look for you. I’ll also tell you that tonight, we’re goin’ out to dinner, just the two of us. We’re gonna enjoy the goddamned meal and after we’re gonna have another talk. If I’m not at the gallery to pick you up at closing then I’ll be here at the house at seven.”

  I was breathing heavily and trying to sort out my thoughts when he continued.

  “You do somethin’ stupid, Sadie, Buddy, Ralphie and I’ll have a conversation and we might have to rethink your situation and you may not like what we come up with. But I’m tellin’ you this, I’m keepin’ you safe and you agreed to let me take care of you and that’s what I’m fuckin’ gonna do whether you like it or not.”

  Then without another word he let me go.

  I teetered a bit without his arms around me and his body to lean into and before I got myself sorted, he’d walked around me without looking back.

  When I turned and stared into the living room doorway, he was nowhere to be seen.

  After a couple of seconds, I heard Ralphie ask from the kitchen, “Is she okay?”

  “She will be,” was Hector’s very firm and also very annoyed answer.

  I closed my eyes.

  This was not going well for me.

  Not at all.

  * * * * *

  I stared at my exposed wrist and felt a weird sense of calmness settle in me.

  My wrist looked kind of strange but the cast was gone.

  I only thought about the cut on my face when I saw myself in a mirror or noticed someone’s gaze on it. I could forget it, sometimes lately for hours.

  But for the last five weeks, the cast was a second-by-second reminder of what Ricky Balducci did to me.

  And now it was gone.

  I pulled in a deep breath as I let the calm settle. One more step toward healing. One more step toward the time when I might go whole days or even weeks without remembering.

  “Sadie, girl,” Bex called and I looked up at her and I couldn’t help it, I smiled.

  Bex and I were alone in an exam room. They’d taken the cast off then a physical therapist had shown me some exercises to strengthen my wrist. He gave me a squeezy ball and some leaflets filled with instructions and diagrams. He left and the nurse had gone off to get the paperwork for me to sign and then we could go.

  Hector was there but outside the room talking on his cell.

  As Hector told me, he showed up at Art at ten to two (double-parking again) just in time to take me to the hospital. In preparation (because I figured Hector would do as he said and I was not wrong), I called Bex and asked her to meet us there.

  On the way over, I’d given Hector a blast of The Ice but he acted like I was “His Sadie” (whoever the heck that was) and not a wintry cold bitch, thus he totally ignored The Ice.

  This, I had to admit, both irritated me and kind of scared me but I’d started practicing The Ice Treatment when I was eleven. Eighteen years and I’d perfected the art of The Ice Treatment. I knew if I stuck with it, I could and would deep freeze Hector.

  Eventually.

  I mentally shook my thoughts clear and said to Bex, “Yes?”

  Her eyes moved to the door and back to me. “What’s going on with Hector?” she asked. “You two seeing each other?”

  Even though I wanted to explain it to her, I didn’t.

  Firstly, she might not get it. Secondly, she might feel like giving me a lecture and I could not deal with another lecture right now. Hector had delivered the powder room and hallway lectures and after I came down from getting ready both Buddy and Ralphie had lectured me in a gay roommate tag-team talking to and I had to say I was up to there with well meaning lectures. Lastly, I was feeling a calm I hadn’t felt in a long time and I didn’t want anything to shatter that.

  So I responded, “Kind of.”

  “You been intimate?” she asked.

  By the way, Bex was a pretty straightforward woman, she could be softly-softly but most of the time she cut to the chase.

  I pulled my lips in, feeling the calm slip away and then replied, “Just making out a couple of times.”

  It was her turn to smile. “That’s good.”

  She didn’t know the half of it.

  She watched my face and her smile got bigger.

  “It’s not going anywhere,” I said quickly before she got the wrong idea and, at my words, her smile disappeared.

  “Why not?” she asked.

  I shrugged and my eyes slid away.

  She pulled her chair closer but she didn’t touch me. Still, her getting closer made my gaze come back to her.

  Her face was gentle. “Sadie, you know, what Ricky Balducci did to you was not an act of intimacy. It was an act of violence.”

  I inhaled sharply through my nose but nodded fervently in the hopes she’d think I understood and she’d move off this particular subject.

  My hopes were quickly dashed.

  “What you do with someone who cares about you is an entirely different thing. It’s a good thing, giving and, hopefully, getting.” She gave me a small grin.

  I nodded again and squirmed a little bit. I did not want to be talking about this. Ever.

  My Mom had disappeared way before it was time to have The Sex Talk and my father never bothered. I’d had a couple of lovers, one in college, one after, both of whom I liked as much as I would allow myself to like anyone. Also, both of whom my father frowned upon and sent packing.

  I knew what sex was, I’d even had good sex.

  I knew what Ricky did to me wasn’t that.

  Bex, unfortunately, did not have clairvoyant powers so she couldn’t read my mind and therefore she kept talking.

  “It’s going to be difficult, you can get it confused but try to remember that letting someone close to you like that, letting them show you why it’s good, having that togetherness, it’s part of healing.”

  “Okay,” I responded immediately.

  She scooted even closer and I got the impression she wasn’t buying into what Tex would call my “bullshit”.

  She kept at it. “I’m not saying you should go faster than you’re ready. I’m
just saying your mind can shut down to that part of life and it’s important not to shut it off, twist it so you’re convinced it’s wrong or dirty. It’s important to remember it’s right, it’s natural and it can be very, very good.”

  I blinked and my gaze slid away. Then I sighed and set aside the bullshit.

  “Okay,” I whispered.

  Bex wasn’t quite done.

  “If you’ve got worries, talk to him. I think Hector’s the kind of guy who’ll listen and wait until the time is right for you. But keep him in the loop and let him know where your head is at.”

  There was no way I was going to keep Hector in that loop (or any loop, for that matter).

  I didn’t tell Bex that.

  Instead, I said again, “Okay.”

  “You need to talk to me, you know where to find me,” she finished.

  I nodded then looked at her and in an effort to change the subject, I informed her, “We’re going to watch YoYo for you.”

  She gave me a gentle smile that I understood with a gratitude so strong I felt like hugging her (however, I did not) meant she was finally letting me off the hook.

  “I know,” she said.

  Luckily the door opened, the nurse walked in and the latest trauma in a life full of traumas was thankfully over.

  And I’d survived, yet again.

  * * * * *

  After I signed the paperwork, Bex went back to the rape crisis center and Hector took me to Art.

  During the ride I didn’t speak. Hector didn’t either. I found this uncomfortable. Hector acted like this was perfectly normal. This made me want to throw my squeezy ball at him.

  Of course, I did not.

  Hector parallel parked in a very unusual prime spot a door down from Art.

  Before he had the Bronco’s ignition shut down, my door was open, I was out, around the front of the Bronco and hoofing it on my Manolos down the sidewalk toward the gallery.

  I was feet away from the door when an arm tagged me around my shoulders, I came to a rocking halt and he turned me into him.

  My body went rigid and I lifted my chin to grant him with a patented Chill Factor Sub-Zero glare.

  “I have to get to work,” I informed him.

  “You’re welcome,” he said in return, looking down at me unaffected by Chill Factor Sub-Zero, his fantastic mouth fighting a grin.

  Seriously a squeezy ball throwing moment if there ever was one, however, I was not at a distance which would allow for it and further, an action such as that would not befit The Ice Princess.

  “For what?” I asked instead of throwing my squeezy ball at him.

  “For the ride,” he replied.

  Chill Factor Sub-Zero descended sharply to Chill Factor Dry Ice. “I suppose I shouldn’t have to remind you that I didn’t ask for a ride.”

  He lost the fight and grinned casually in the face of Chill Factor Dry Ice.

  “True enough,” he said calmly.

  I waited for more but, apparently, that was it.

  “Are we through here?” I asked, cocking my head and deciding to shift into saccharin-sweetness.

  His face dipped to mine. “Not even close,” he whispered and his black eyes went warm and started dancing like he was enjoying this (enjoying this!).

  Blooming heck!

  I was using all my good stuff on him! And none of it was working!

  All right, fine. He was going to challenge the Ice Princess then that was just fine.

  Beware Hector Chavez! The next Ice Age cometh, as Ralphie would say, a la Sadie.

  I zapped him with a mental ice ray and pulled out of his arm, turned, opened the door and walked into Art.

  I was confronted with Ralphie entertaining a full bevy of Rock Chicks sans Shirleen and a new person I’d never met before. He was a middle-aged man, tall, built solid (but with a teensy beer belly), dark hair with some gray in it and Indy Nightingale’s blue eyes.

  Everyone was drinking coffee.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, walking toward the counter.

  “Tex sent over coffees to celebrate your cast being removed,” Daisy told me on a grin. “Yours is probably cold though. We been here awhile.”

  “I’ll nuke it,” Ralphie said, snatching a white cup off the counter.

  “I’ll do it,” Ava offered, Ralphie handed her the cup with a grateful smile, she took it and headed to the back of the gallery where our little kitchenette was.

  Then I saw Ralphie’s eyes come back to me and I didn’t like the look in them.

  I looked around the room. Then I felt the room.

  Something was not right.

  My eyes went to the man I didn’t know.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, again to everyone but my eyes didn’t leave the man and, I realized belatedly, his eyes had been on me since I walked in.

  An unhappy, “oh no what now?” chill slid across my skin and I braced.

  Hector materialized close to my side (furthering my sense of foreboding) and I heard him say, “Tom.”

  I looked to Hector then back to the man. The man got closer and lifted his chin at Hector showing me they knew each other then his gaze slid back to me.

  Indy came with him. She was looking at me too. Looking at me funny. Looking at me in a way that made me a little scared.

  All of a sudden I had the insane urge to reach out for Hector’s hand like I would have done yesterday or the day before (or, probably, the day before) but I wouldn’t allow myself to do it now.

  Those days were over.

  Whatever life had to dish out to me next, I was going to handle it on my own. No more leaning on anyone else. It was time for a new New Sadie, a Take Charge Sadie.

  “I’m Sadie Townsend,” I told him.

  “I know who you are,” he said gently and I watched with alarm as his gaze moved to the scar on my cheek, it grew soft and then (no kidding), it grew moist.

  “This is my Dad, Tom Savage,” Indy introduced and my eyes went wide.

  Oh no.

  Were we going to have another Blanca Type Incident?

  I mentally prepared for another demonstration of why these people were so darn nice but my preparation wasn’t enough.

  Nowhere near.

  “You look just like your mother,” Tom Savage said and his six words hit me like six sharp blows and my body jerked with the power of them.

  I swallowed, wondering if I heard him right then whispered, “I’m sorry?”

  The Rock Chicks and Ralphie were closing in and I felt Hector’s heat hit me as he drew nearer. But I only had eyes for Tom Savage.

  “You know my mother?” I asked when he didn’t repeat himself.

  “Knew her, yes,” he answered.

  I put my newly exposed hand to the counter and held on. It wouldn’t do to collapse in a dead faint. That wouldn’t exactly say Take Charge Sadie.

  “It seems, when we were little, we knew each other too,” Indy put in and my eyes moved to her. She was fishing in the back pocket of her jeans and she pulled out a picture, stepped toward me and handed it to me.

  I took it and looked down.

  In the picture was a little redheaded, blue-eyed girl, maybe two years old, and a baby. The little girl was sitting on a couch with the swaddled baby in her arms. You could tell she was giggling into the camera, pleased as punch to be holding her living doll.

  The baby’s head had a shock of ultra-light, golden-cream-strawberry blonde hair.

  The little girl was obviously Indy, the baby… me.

  “Oh my God,” I breathed, not taking my eyes from the picture. I took one step back then two then ran into something solid. Hector’s hands settled on my shoulders as I stopped retreating and stared at the picture.

  Finally, I looked up at Tom. “How…?”

  Tom took a step toward me, his eyes moved to Hector and he stopped.

  He looked back at me. “Lizzie, your mother, was a friend of my wife, Katherine.”

  I blinked, unable to process this
because, frankly, it was un-processable.

  My Mom and Indy’s Mom were friends? How could that be?

  “She was?” I asked.

  Tom nodded. “Katherine and Kitty Sue, Lee’s Mom, were thick as thieves all their lives. They met Lizzie in high school and she became part of their tribe. They were both bridesmaids at your Mom’s wedding.”

  Instantly I felt saliva fill my mouth and I swallowed it down.

  This couldn’t be true. It simply couldn’t be true.

  Could it?

  I didn’t know anything about my mother. I had nothing of her but my memories. My father had removed all traces of her after she left us. No photos, no trinkets, no letters, not a stitch of her clothing. Nothing. We never spoke of her after she left. Not once.

  “Mom and Dad are on vacation in Hawaii. They’re coming home on Sunday,” Ally piped in, I came out of my thoughts and I looked at her. She was staring at me too and she didn’t look like feisty Veronica Mars at all. Her look was both gentle and concerned.

  It was too much to take in so, confused, I asked, “What?”

  “My Mom, Kitty Sue, your Mom’s friend, she’s in Hawaii. We’ve called her and she told us to tell you she’s looking forward to seeing you again when she gets back.”

  I was shaking my head, still not understanding, but Ally kept on.

  “I guess me and Lee and Hank, my other brother, knew you too.”

  “No,” I whispered.

  “Yes,” Ally replied and she gave me a hesitant not at all the Ally I kind of knew grin.

  I pulled in my lips and before I could pull together my thoughts, Tom came closer and put his hand on my arm.

  “Sadie, you were a part of our lives for awhile. Then we lost Katherine –” Tom said and my gaze snapped to him.

  “You lost Katherine?” I repeated.

  “She died. Cancer. When Indy was five. A few years after that picture was taken,” Tom replied and at that, my eyes sliced to Indy and all of a sudden my body started trembling.

  Indy’s Mom died. Tom’s wife died. My Mom’s friend died.

  I shook my head, wanting to escape, wanting to run, to hide, to get the heck out of there but I didn’t.

  Instead, I looked back to Tom. “I’m sorry,” I said softly.

  His fingers squeezed my arm. “It was a long time ago,” he responded but I could tell by the look in his eyes that time hadn’t healed this particular wound.

 

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