Rock Chick Reckoning

by Kristen Ashley

  “Don’t call back and I ain’t tellin’ him that money was from your hotshot boyfriend neither. I got enough to deal with.”

  “Please, Mom, listen to me.”

  But the phone was dead.

  I stared at it, silent.

  Mace was not silent, he muttered, voice low, “You have got to be fuckin’ shittin’ me.”

  I didn’t look at him. I kept staring at the phone. I was a mixture of mortified and… I didn’t know what.

  Finally, I put the handset back in the receiver.

  “You… have gotta be… fuckin’ shittin’ me,” Mace repeated and, finally, I looked at him.

  Uh-oh.

  He was pissed.

  “Mace –”

  His hands went to the phone, he twisted his torso violently, ripping it out of its socket, the cord flying. He got to his feet and, using the entirety of his upper body for momentum, he threw it across the room.

  It exploded against the wall.

  Erm.

  Wow.

  My eyes moved from the phone back to him. “Mace.”

  His gaze sliced to mine.

  “Those ties have been severed,” Mace said, his voice trembling with fury.

  “Mace.”

  “You’re not phonin’ that bitch again. I don’t care if she’s dyin’.”

  “Mace.”

  He exploded, “You’re their fucking daughter! Do they not know how fucking precious you are?”

  Oh dear.

  I wasn’t sure this was about me.

  Well, maybe it was mostly about me but it wasn’t all about me.

  I got close to his tense body and put my hands to his neck.

  “Mace, look at me.”

  His eyes tilted down but his head didn’t. His chest was moving in and out rapidly like he was breathing heavily.

  “She called you selfish,” he told me.

  “Forget it.”

  “Said you didn’t think about her when you left.”

  “I heard her,” I whispered.

  “She ever think of you when he was abusin’ you?”

  “Mace.”

  “Answer me, Stella.”

  “No,” I said quickly.

  “She ever protect you?”

  “No.”

  “She used you to protect herself.”

  I got closer. “Mace, don’t –”

  “She did, didn’t she?”

  “Yes,” I said quietly.

  “She’s worse than your Dad.”

  “She’s not. She’s just weak.”

  “Don’t fuckin’ defend her. She’s worse.”

  I squeezed his neck. “Okay. She’s worse.” My hands slid up to the sides of his head into the hair behind his ears and I pressed with my fingers until his head tilted down. “Don’t be angry. They’re not worth it.”

  “I gave them six thousand dollars.”

  I closed my eyes.

  “You know what I’d give to have my fuckin’ phone ring and Caitlin’s voice comin’ at me from the other end?” he asked.

  I opened my eyes and saw the demons in his.

  Shit.

  “What would you give?” I whispered.

  “Everything,” he whispered back.

  “I love you,” I said softly, jumping the gun, saying it far faster than I planned.

  But I couldn’t help it. It just slipped out. I couldn’t have stopped it even if I tried.

  Mace stared at me.

  So, even though it scared the effing hell out of me, since I’d thrown it out there, I might as well go with it.

  So I did.

  “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me in my whole life. My hands could be crushed so I couldn’t play guitar ever again and I wouldn’t care as long as I had you.”

  Mace continued to stare at me.

  I pressed my body to his, got close to his face, looked into his beautiful eyes and made a big mistake.

  “It’s not my place to say but, I’m guessing, I was Caitlin, I had a brother like you I wouldn’t have gone through what I went through. I would have known a good life, a happy life, a lucky life. I bet you protected her from your father. I bet you kept her safe. She was lucky, until the end, to have you.”

  “Quiet Stella.”

  “It’s true.”

  “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talkin’ about.”

  “I bet I do,” I whispered.

  His hands came to my biceps, his fingers curled around and they did it so tightly, they hurt.

  “Quiet,” he growled.

  I nodded but I didn’t wince and I didn’t move away, even as his fingers bit deep into my flesh.

  We stared at each other, his face tight, I hoped mine was open.

  But he didn’t give me anything.

  Not even a little thing.

  He was closed.

  He was gone.

  Shit!

  Then the door opened.

  I looked around Mace as he twisted toward the door.

  We saw Vance swing in. His eyes took in the destroyed phone then skimmed across us both but locked on Mace.

  Then Vance said, “We got trouble.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Social Call

  Stella

  I followed Mace and Vance into the reception area. I nearly ran into Mace’s back because he stopped dead the minute he hit the room. I stepped around him and stared.

  Preston Mason was sitting, legs crossed, calm as you please, on the couch.

  As if that wasn’t bad enough, Jerky George, the DA, was standing just inside the door next to a somewhat unattractive older woman with a pinched face and bags around the ankles of her hose.

  Vance had spirited me into the offices for my lunch with Mace. Shirleen hadn’t been around when I arrived but now she was there. She wasn’t seated behind the reception desk. She was standing and she was looking pissed off.

  “You’re jokin’,” Shirleen snapped in the direction of the older woman.

  “What the fuck are you doin’ here?” Mace asked and with a quick glance I saw he was talking to his father.

  “Mace,” Vance said low.

  Preston Mason was staring at me.

  “I thought we had an arrangement,” Preston asked me.

  “Erm…” I mumbled.

  Effing hell!

  Caught!

  “I asked you what you’re doin’ here,” Mace repeated.

  Preston’s eyes moved from me to his son, his hands came from where they were resting in his lap and he flicked them out to his sides, cool and calm.

  “I came to talk to you. But I’ve been delighted to have the opportunity to watch this drama unfold.” Preston motioned between Shirleen, George and pinch-faced lady.

  That’s when, belatedly, I felt a chill crawl up my spine.

  “Shirleen, you okay?” I asked hesitantly.

  “No… I… am… not,” Shirleen answered.

  Oh dear.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “Perhaps, Miz Jackson, we can go somewhere private,” the pinch-faced lady suggested.

  “Ain’t nothin’ you can’t say in front of my boys.” Shirleen gestured to Mace and Vance.

  “You have more people in your audience,” George told Shirleen and Shirleen’s narrowed gaze swung to him.

  “Stella’s my girl. And that one’s a jackass so he don’t count,” Shirleen replied, giving a nod toward Preston Mason.

  I nearly laughed but I didn’t.

  “Shirleen, take it to Lee’s office. We’ll wait until Jules gets here,” Vance put in.

  “I’m afraid Mrs. Crowe is likely busy,” George told Vance. “You see, King’s Shelter is having a surprise inspection today.”

  Oh hell. That was where Jules worked.

  Mace was right about Jerky George and he wasn’t wasting any time in seeking retribution.

  “First thing they’ll be looking into is your wife’s files on the placement of two street kids with a kn
own felon,” George continued.

  “Interesting,” Preston Mason said slowly. “Is she the felon?” he asked curiously, jerking his head toward Shirleen then his eyes locked on Vance. “Or is he talkin’ about you, Crowe? I know you’re a felon.” When the pinch-faced lady gasped, Preston nodded to her and went on informatively, “Grand theft auto.”

  Oh no.

  This was not happening.

  Pinch-faced lady stared at Vance for a few seconds then she breathed, “Juliet Crowe is married to a felon?”

  “No,” I snapped. “She’s married to a hot guy.”

  It was my turn to have pinch-faced lady stare at me then she blinked rapidly and finally turned to Shirleen.

  “Miz Jackson, we need to do an immediate intervention,” she explained. “Those boys will be placed elsewhere while we look into this matter. You should have expected this as you had your home invaded and fired a .44 caliber weapon during said invasion while both boys were in residence.”

  “I have a right to protect my home and my boys,” Shirleen retorted.

  “I’m sorry but I’m not sure it’s policy to allow firearms in the homes of foster carers,” pinch-faced lady shot back with saccharine sweetness.

  “He shot three times into the livin’ room. The night before, Roam had fallen asleep on the couch watchin’ movies. He could have been hit!” Shirleen clipped.

  “You can explain that while we take your report,” pinch-faced lady said. “But those boys are going to need to be moved today.”

  “Those boys aren’t goin’ anywhere,” Shirleen fired back.

  I looked across the room and Preston Mason was grinning.

  Erm.

  No.

  Someone had to do something and that someone was going to be me.

  “Are you saying Shirleen has to give up her constitutional rights to be a foster carer?” I asked pinch-faced lady.

  Pinch-faced lady swung her pinched-face to me. “Who are you?”

  “I’m Shirleen Jackson’s friend,” I answered.

  Pinch-faced lady’s eyes went to Jerky George and she asked, “Does she deal drugs too?”

  Shirleen growled. Preston Mason laughed. I felt both Mace and Vance go still. My head prepared to explode.

  “What did you say?” I hissed, taking a step forward but Mace moved, his arm came around my waist and he halted my progress by hauling me against his body.

  “Everyone knows what she is.” Pinch-faced lady pointed at Shirleen.

  I leaned toward her, straining at Mace’s arm. “I want you to say it. Out loud. So everyone in this room can bear witness to your slander.”

  “Stella,” Mace spoke low behind me.

  “No,” I twisted to look at Mace. “They wanna dig their hole deeper? We should let them. Hell, we should encourage it!” I ended up yelling.

  “Be quiet,” Mace ordered.

  I was not going to be quiet.

  My mother was just mean to me and Mace heard it and it made him destroy a phone.

  My father had been mean to me all my life.

  In fact, all my life I’d been rolling over and letting people deliver gut kick after gut kick.

  I was done rolling over.

  I turned around and glared at George. “How stupid are you?” I asked.

  His eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry?”

  “Have you not been reading the paper? Don’t you know that everyone who works in this office is famous? We’re the darlings of Denver. So, if you don’t get your, and her,” I pointed to both of them, “asses outta here, I’m calling The Denver Post and I’m telling them all about you. You won’t have to wait for Lee to wipe the floor with you. I’ll do it.”

  George’s eyes moved to Mace and he demanded, “Mason, control your woman.”

  “Oh no. Not gonna happen,” I cut in shaking my head. “Lee said you wanted the Governor’s mansion. So when folks go to vote do you want people to remember you as the guy who brought low a good woman, a woman who not only opens her home to runaways but puts herself in the path of bullets to keep them safe? Oh, I bet the people of Colorado will just love that. Coloradans, by the way, don’t care about their Second Amendment rights. Don’t let that worry you one bit!” I snapped sarcastically and then went on. “And Jules, a social worker who’s pregnant for God’s sake. She spends her days doing good deeds and you’re making her life miserable. And let’s not forget the rest of the Rock Chicks, living behind alarms and not able to go anywhere without bodyguards. We were just going about our business and then we all got shot at! Shot at! I got hit!” I was now yelling. “Two of those Rock Chicks are fiancées of cops. Cops who keep the streets safe. I’m sure that’ll make you real popular. And you could stop it but you didn’t. All of this as retribution because you didn’t get your way not because you were fighting for right, for justice but because you were standing in the way of it while people’s asses were on the line. How’s that gonna sound? That’s gonna make juicy headlines, George. I’m sure I’ll find a reporter who’ll eat this up. You’re gonna be fucked. People will hate you.”

  I’d run out of steam so I stopped and watched as George’s eyes were working. He didn’t get a chance to say anything because that’s when Preston Mason stood and he did so while clapping.

  “Bravo, Stella,” he said to me when he stopped his one man ovation. “You’re good. I liked the touch with the Second Amendment. I guess you didn’t skip that class while you were in school.”

  “Go to hell,” I hissed.

  “You have your daughter kidnapped and murdered then you’ll know the meaning of hell,” he shot back and I felt the air grow thick as Mace went tight behind me and I felt waves of hostility coming from Vance and Shirleen.

  As for me, well, what could I say?

  I was on a roll.

  “You sure that hell has to do with Caitlin being kidnapped and murdered? Or is it something else, Preston?” I asked. “Maybe that hell is knowing you had a beautiful daughter and an accomplished son and you spent your time making money and screwing people over and not getting to know your own fucking children.”

  I scored a point. I knew this because his face twisted.

  “Shut your mouth.” It was his turn to hiss.

  “Not a chance,” I fired back. “You had your say in the limousine now I’ll have mine. You make me sick. I can barely look at you without vomiting. You think I’m stupid? I’m not stupid enough to throw away something this good.” I jerked my thumb toward Mace. “Not like you did, you fool. Foreclose on my parents’ house while my mother’s dying of cancer. Go ahead. That’ll just be one more black mark on your soul but you already have enough to shoot straight to hell when your time’s up. Don’t you?” Preston glared at me and I strained against Mace’s arm to lean forward and scream, “Don’t you?”

  I felt Mace lean into me and his mouth was right by my ear right before he said softly, “Enough, Kitten.”

  At his words, I straightened then sagged into him, spent. He took my weight by wrapping his other arm around me.

  Preston Mason’s gaze moved between the two of us then stopped on Mace. “I came by to talk deal.”

  “There’ll be no deals,” Mace returned in a firm voice.

  “Be smart, son,” Preston replied softly.

  “Maybe I should offer that same advice,” Mace suggested.

  Preston stared at Mace then he shook his head. “Her parents will be out on the street tomorrow.”

  “That’ll be difficult, considering the mortgage has been made current,” Mace retorted.

  Surprise flashed across Preston’s face before he hid it. Then he tried a different tact and nodded at me. “You can do better.”

  “That’s fuckin’ hilarious, you givin’ me advice on women since you threw away two good ones without battin’ a fuckin’ eye,” Mace shot back.

  I looked at Shirleen. Shirleen was grinning at Mace. Then she looked at me and pressed her lips together like she was trying hard not to laugh.

  “We
going head-to-head?” Preston asked his son.

  “Looks that way,” Mace answered.

  “I always win,” Preston told Mace.

  “This’ll be interestin’ since the same holds true for me,” Mace returned.

  “May the best man win!” Shirleen shouted. “New pool!” she went on. “I got fifty bucks on Mace.”

  “Don’t think anyone’s gonna bet against you, Shirleen,” Vance put in.

  At that, for some reason, Shirleen burst out laughing. I couldn’t help it, the situation was just too freaky and scary, I started laughing right along with her.

  The door opened and Lee walked in with, of all people, Smithie.

  “Well, fuck me,” Lee said, looking at George. “Is this a social call?”

  I felt the tension ebb out of the room as it moved out of Mace and the hostile vibes stopped emanating from Vance.

  “Nightingale,” George replied but he was looking pale and his eyes were weirdly on Smithie. It was weird because they were on Smithie without ever actually focusing on Smithie, then he said, “Mrs. Armstrong, perhaps we should go.”

  “But –” pinch-faced lady (or, apparently, Mrs. Armstrong) started to protest but she didn’t finish.

  “Is that…?” Smithie was looking closely at George. “It is! George Riverside. Well, damn, man. You don’t come around much anymore. Where you been, motherfucker?”

  I stared between George and Smithie as George’s face started getting red.

  “Sorry, do I know you?” George asked.

  “Sure. It’s been awhile but you used to come to my club all the time.” Smithie leaned toward Mrs. Armstrong. “I own a strip club and Georgie here likes lap dances. Dirty ones. Pays extra to get a little touch here and there from the girls. Usually blondes with big tits. I mean big.” Smithie put his hands out in front of him and pinch-face lady reared back. “Now he goes outta town for his action.” Pinch-faced lady turned to stare in horror at George as Smithie kept talking. “Not far to Wyoming, is it George? Still, got a friend up there, he says you’re a regular. Damn, ain’t cool to take your business out-of-state. What us local guys gonna do?”

  Pinch-faced lady stepped away from George and swung her gaze to Shirleen. “I’ll call you Miz Jackson.”

  “You do that,” Shirleen replied, settling in her seat at the same time she was sorting through her pencil holder. She yanked out a nail file and leaned back, crossed her legs and started to file her nails.