Rock Chick Reckoning

by Kristen Ashley

  “Do you think she would have liked me?” I asked.

  “Definitely,” Mace answered, again immediately.

  My heart did what was becoming a familiar settle.

  “Do you think she’d like me with you?” I went on.

  “Yeah,” he replied.

  “I know it’s hard for you to talk about her.”

  “It’s gettin’ easier.”

  I smiled at him. “Good.”

  Take that demon scum!

  “Come to bed, Kitten,” Mace muttered.

  I quit strumming.

  I put the guitar in its stand, took off my clothes, walked to the bed and slid in beside him. I turned to him, wrapping an arm around his waist, cocking a knee, resting it on his hard thigh and putting my cheek to his shoulder. His hand pressed under me, his arm coming up and curling around my waist.

  “I love you, Kai Mason,” I whispered into his chest and I found that was getting easier too.

  His fingers dug into my flesh.

  “Sleep,” he replied.

  I snuggled closer. Juno lifted her head and rested it on Mace and my ankles.

  I fell asleep.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Even If I Die Doin’ It

  Stella

  “Stop scratching,” Mace’s sleepy-gruff voice demanded.

  “It itches,” my sleepy-grouchy voice returned.

  His arm went across his body, his fingers wrapped around my wrist, taking my fingers away from where they were scratching around the stitches at my hip. He pulled my hand up and pressed it against his chest.

  “It’s healin’. You need to keep your fuckin’ nails clear,” he told me.

  “Were you this damn bossy a year ago?” I grumbled.

  “A year ago, I was too busy thinkin’ about how lucky I was that someone as beautiful and talented as you let me into her bed to be bossy. Now I know you love me, I can be as bossy as I want.”

  At his words, my head shot up and I stared at him.

  It was morning, early morning, the sun just peeping around the now ever-closed blinds.

  Mace was on his back, I was tucked into his side. It appeared we’d slept the whole night without moving. His face was still soft with sleep but his green eyes were alert and on me.

  “You thought you were lucky?” I asked.

  “Babe, I need to video you onstage. You could be butt-ugly but the way you move onstage and that fuckin’ voice of yours would still make me hard. Singin’ or talkin’, it doesn’t matter. Your voice is the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.”

  Uh… wow.

  Did he just say that?

  “Seriously?” I breathed.

  He grinned and rolled into me. “Seriously,” he said and went on. “Lucky for me, you also got great hair, great eyes, great legs and an unbelievable heart-shaped ass.”

  As if to prove his point, his hand slid over my ass and his face went into my neck as he pressed me to my back.

  Then he muttered, “Still, I’m inside you and I hear that throaty fuckin’ voice of yours beggin’ me to fuck you harder, I swear it takes everything I got to keep control and not come.”

  I wasn’t sure but I thought I had a small orgasm just listening to him.

  I decided to switch topics before I lost what little control I had. “Just because I love you doesn’t mean you can boss me around.”

  His head came up and he looked at me just as his hand slid from my ass, up my side, to cup my breast.

  “Yeah it does,” he said.

  “No, it doesn’t,” I shot back.

  He grinned. “It does.”

  I frowned. “It doesn’t.”

  His thumb slid across my nipple.

  It felt so good, my teeth sunk into my lower lip to stop myself from moaning.

  His eyes dropped to my mouth. “Oh yeah it does,” he muttered and he sounded pretty effing pleased.

  “I take it back, I don’t love you. I think you’re a pain in my ass.”

  His body started shaking like he was laughing. “You can’t take it back.”

  “I can.”

  His mouth touched mine before he said, “Jesus, you’re cute, Kitten.”

  “I’m not cute. I’m sultry and sexy,” I returned.

  His mouth came back to my mouth, his eyes open and staring into mine, his were both soft and amused and I figured, somewhere in his head, that look was kicking demon ass.

  “You’re that too,” he said and did another nipple swipe.

  My back arched and my arms wrapped around him. “Okay, maybe you’re not a pain in my ass.”

  His head slanted and his lips hit mine, no touch now, he was serious and I knew it when his tongue slid inside.

  My body melted under his.

  The phone rang.

  “Effing hell,” I muttered against his mouth.

  He kissed me quickly, did a push up and he was away. I watched as he walked naked across the room and I was so lost in my fascination of watching his body move that it didn’t penetrate that it was Hector’s “clean” phone that was ringing.

  Then it penetrated.

  I shot to sitting on the bed and cried, “Mace!”

  He had the phone in his hand and was looking at the display when I wrapped the sheet around me and whipped my legs over the side, taking the sheet with me.

  Juno woofed in surprise at my swift movements but I didn’t spare her a glance, I was heading toward Mace.

  His head came up, his eyes narrow.

  I stopped in front of him and he turned the phone to face me.

  “Missed call from Bogey One. Who’s Bogey One?” he asked.

  Think fast Stella, my brain screeched.

  I came up with an answer. “How should I know? It’s not my phone.”

  That’s when the phone beeped in his hand indicating a voicemail had been left.

  I stared at the phone. Mace stared at the phone.

  Then he flipped it open and started hitting buttons.

  Shitsofuckit!

  “Mace, give me the phone.” I reached out to snatch it from him but he yanked it away and his eyes came back to me, still narrow, brows drawn.

  “What’s the matter with you?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” I lied.

  He watched me a beat then repeated, “Who the fuck is Bogey One?”

  “Erm…”

  “Start talkin’, Stella,” he demanded and his voice had gone scary. “Is it Turner?”

  I blinked at him, taken aback that he thought I’d hide a call from Eric.

  Then I cried, “No! Of course not.”

  “Then you do know who it is.”

  Damn it!

  Why was I such an idiot?

  “Mace –”

  “Is it Chavez?” Mace went on.

  “No! Mace, I can’t tell you. You have to trust me. Just give me the phone.” I held out my hand to him, palm up, hoping that would work.

  It didn’t.

  “Last night you sat there singing to me ‘nothing to hide, believe what I say’ and not ten hours later you’re standin’ in front of me lyin’.”

  I closed my eyes then opened them again. “Please Mace, you just have to trust me.”

  “Trust you with what?” he asked, voice impatient.

  “Mace –”

  “Trust you with what?” Now his voice was short and pissed off.

  “Your heart!” I shouted, his body went tight then he blinked. I ignored all that and went on, “You have to trust me with your heart, damn it. A couple of days ago, you asked me if I wanted into your heart. Well, I’m guessing by now you know that I do. So I’m trying to work my way in there but you have to trust me. Now give me the effing phone!”

  He just stood there, frozen, staring at me. This was weird and highly uncharacteristic of Mace but I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. I took my opportunity, reached in and snatched the phone out of his hand.

  I walked (okay, more like stomped) away while flipping it open an
d finding my way to voicemail. By the time I made it to the kitchen and turned to face him, Mace was tugging on his jeans and Lana’s voice was telling me she was on a plane and just about to take off. Red-eye to LA. She’d have to turn off her phone soon but she wanted me to know she’d called Chloe. She finished, “See you soon, sweetie.”

  Even though I wanted to keep a message that had Lana’s soft, musical voice calling me sweetie, I deleted it immediately.

  Mace had his jeans buttoned and was pulling on the henley he discarded last night by the time I was done.

  I opened my mouth to speak but he got there before me, his voice coming at me like a whiplash. “They cut off her hand.”

  My breath packed up and, on a direct trajectory, shot straight toward the sun, disintegrating in the heat.

  I tried to suck in air but it wasn’t coming mainly because the guard was down, the demons were out, nothing to hide them. Even across the room, I could see they were cavorting malevolently in Mace’s eyes and having the times of their lives. Looking at that kind of pain in the eyes of the man I loved, I couldn’t breathe.

  “Caitlin was kidnapped. My father didn’t involve the cops. Instead he hired some fuckin’ guys…” He paused then continued, “You wouldn’t believe these guys. Knowin’ what I know now, fuck, they were the K Mart of commandos.”

  I started toward him but he put his hand up and clipped, “Don’t get near me.”

  Effing.

  Bloody.

  Hell.

  I stopped.

  Juno, feeling the vibe, whined.

  Mace kept talking.

  “They fucked it up, botched the job. They left a man behind. The kidnappers sent him back in pieces. No fuckin’ joke. In pieces.”

  No gut kick this time. This time, my stomach turned and I was worried I might get sick right there.

  Duke hadn’t told me that part.

  “As retribution for that stunt, they cut off Caitlin’s hand, sent it to my father. After she died and they examined her, I found out they did it surgical, precise. These guys knew what they were fuckin’ doin’. They had training. They had resources. They weren’t guys you messed with. My father knew that. He knew it the whole fuckin’ time.”

  I chanced a question. “What did they want?”

  “They wanted my father. Even exchange. Caitlin for him.”

  Duke hadn’t told me that either.

  “I take it he wasn’t willing to make that deal?” I asked.

  Mace laughed but there was no humor in the sound. “No fuckin’ way. Preston Mason sacrifice himself for his daughter? Not a chance.”

  Mace stopped talking.

  It cost me but I stood still and waited.

  After awhile, he went on, “I lost patience with my father fuckin’ around. I got the police involved, the FBI. Offered myself instead.”

  I felt my heart squeeze and closed my eyes but opened them when he continued talking.

  “I had no idea who they were, what they wanted. I was relatively famous, I had money. I thought I could bargain with them. I didn’t know they wanted my father dead or they wanted him to pay, not with money, they wanted revenge. It was about revenge. They had no clue our father didn’t give a shit about us and I had no idea what I was doin’ but I was desperate so I did it anyway.”

  He paused and stared at me.

  I waited then asked carefully, “What happened then?”

  He kept staring at me a beat then he continued, “I got cocky and gettin’ cocky means bein’ stupid but I was desperate and cocky so that’s a whole other scale of stupid. I fed the media stories. I thought to put pressure on them, a sixteen year old girl losin’ a hand, didn’t read well in the papers. They didn’t give a shit about their reputations. They didn’t even care if they came out alive. They were kamikazes, workin’ for a larger organization, doin’ a job for the greater whole. Makin’ a statement in a world that didn’t see the light of day. It wouldn’t matter how much the papers tried to dig up, they wouldn’t find anything. These guys were underground, when I say that I mean underground.”

  He paused, his intense eyes burning into me and I nodded, thinking he wanted to know that I understood.

  Once I nodded, Mace kept speaking.

  “The FBI knew what they were up against but they didn’t share this with me. I put pressure on them too. Fed what I thought was their bullshit to the media to get them to move. It worked. They moved. They had to. It was a PR nightmare for them, Caitlin’s pictures in the paper and on the news every day. The way she looked. They had to make it go away. They knew Caitlin wouldn’t survive. What I didn’t know was, they were tryin’ to keep me alive.”

  He stopped, I nodded again and he kept going.

  “I made it hard on them. I struck a deal with the kidnappers. Me for her. They sent me in, vest, helmet. I got in there and saw her. They’d had her three weeks by then but she’d lost so much fuckin’ weight, weight she couldn’t afford to lose. Her hair was… ” He stopped, closed his eyes, my heart slid up into my throat and he opened his eyes again and kept right on going. “I didn’t take much in. I was only there seconds. They had a gun to her head, blew it off, right in front of me then turned the guns on me. I took a number of hits and went down. They turned the guns on themselves. They were all dead by the time SWAT and the Feds got there.”

  He stopped talking and I stayed where I was. My heart was still in my throat, I could feel it beating there.

  Finally, when he didn’t start again, I asked, “Mace, can I come to you now?”

  He answered immediately, “No. I’m not done.”

  What else can there be? My brain asked.

  Quiet! I snapped back.

  “After that, I gave up everything, went to ground, disappeared. I joined an organization, I can’t tell you who and I never will. They trained me. It was specialized training and I needed that training. I did what I had to do to get the job I had to get done, done. Then, for years, I did what I did for them at the same time I did what I had to do for Caitlin. I found out my father was involved and how. I can’t tell you about any of this shit. If you know, far worse people than Sidney Carter would want you dead and they’d be able to do it. All you gotta know is that by the time I left, I did what I had to do for Caitlin. The person who gave the order to take her isn’t breathing anymore, Stella, and I’m the reason he’s not. He died like she did, exactly like she did, I made sure of that.”

  I swallowed, it was hard, considering I had a huge organ in my throat but I pushed the saliva down.

  He kept right on talking and I thought that it was strange and alarming that his voice didn’t change. It was strong and sharp and completely devoid of emotion.

  “I did shit I’m not proud of and lived in a world you wouldn’t be able to imagine and I don’t give a fuck. I did what I had to do for Caitlin and I got no problem with that. I can live with it.” He paused, his arms crossed on his chest then he asked, “The question is, can you?”

  Oh hell.

  I didn’t know what to say. I needed some processing time and not the kind that involved sex.

  When I hesitated, Mace kept at me and he was relentless.

  “You told my father he had enough black marks on his soul to send him straight to hell. You gotta know, the heart you want into has its own strikes against it. No way to wash off the shit I did, it’s marked deep. That the kind of man you want sleepin’ in your bed?”

  “Well, you haven’t given me much choice up to now,” I replied.

  “Now you got that choice.”

  “You’ve never asked me these kinds of questions before,” I told him.

  “I never expected you to learn this shit before.”

  I blinked. “You were going to keep it from me?”

  “Until the day I fuckin’ died.”

  I couldn’t believe that, didn’t even want to and my mouth dropped open before I snapped it shut and asked, “Why?”

  “Because I never wanted you to look at me the way you
’re lookin’ at me right now.”

  Shitsofuckit.

  I didn’t know how I was looking at him and tried to rearrange my face and shift us into safer waters. “How did you get involved with Lee?”

  “Luke knew me, we worked together. He found out I was out, he told Lee to recruit me and now I’m here.”

  “Luke? He –?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Does Ava know?” I asked.

  “As much as she can know,” he answered. “Which I figure is about as much as you know.”

  We stared at each other a few beats then I dropped my head and shifted the sheet tighter around me, thoughts tumbling around in my brain.

  I wasn’t really sure but all my thoughts seemed to be about the same thing.

  Mainly that I knew, without a doubt, that my luck had changed.

  After having a life of no love for so long, finding a guy who could love so deep that he’d sacrifice everything to avenge someone he cared about felt effing great.

  That might make me a freak but I didn’t care.

  I wasn’t going to say it out loud (not again) but, for as long as she had him, Caitlin Mason was one lucky girl.

  And now, so was I.

  “I’ll take that as your answer.” I heard Mace say and my head snapped up to see he was moving to his boots.

  “What’re you doing?” I asked.

  He didn’t look at me when he answered, “Leavin’.”

  “Why?” His head shot up and I kept talking. “Okay, so, I can’t pretend this doesn’t freak me out, because, erm… it’s freaky and intense but well… that was then and this is now. At least I know why you’re so effing moody all the time and why you have such a short fuse. I mean, the whole throwing the phone against the wall gig was freaky too but now I get it and –”

  I stopped talking because he switched directions and was walking toward me.

  “What’re you doing now?” I asked.

  He didn’t answer and right before he made it to me, he dipped his shoulder like the football players do when they’re going to make a tackle. It went into my belly and then I was going up.

  “Mace!” I shouted. “What are you doing?”

  He stalked (yes, stalked!) toward the bed, did a bump with his shoulder and then I was flying through the air. I landed on my back on the bed with a soft bounce and then Mace was on me.