Rock Chick Revenge

by Ashley, Kristen

  Unfortunately, Luke was right, she might not.

  I closed my eyes. With my eyes closed, I felt Luke kiss my nose.

  Just as an aside, a closed-eyes, you’re about to lose your bestest best friend to Uncle Vito oblivion, Luke Nose Kiss was very, very sweet.

  I opened my eyes again and saw his face was partly soft, but his eyes were fully warm like he knew what losing Sissy would mean to me. This caused another warm whoosh to power through me.

  “You’ve got to the police station to talk to her,” Luke said softly. “Find out what she wants to do. She decides she wants to divorce him, we’ll take care of her, put her in the safe room until Vito cools it and Vincetti is out of the picture. She decides she wants to go with him, we’ll deliver her safe to Vito.”

  I needed more information. Tons more.

  “What does ‘disappearing’ mean?” I asked. “Is she going to be gone for everyone, her Dad, her Mom? And if so, for how long? Will she come back? Will she phone? What do I tell them? Can we visit her? Are we talking another state, another country, another continent?”

  “Right now disappearing at all is Sissy’s decision. We delay a lot longer here, babe, Vito’s gonna cotton on to what we’re doing and it will be Vito’s decision.”

  I decided I didn’t need any more information.

  “Time to go,” I said abruptly, turning on my heel and walking into the other room. “Sissy, let’s go ID some bad guys,” I announced, hightailing it through the loft, sparing Lucky a glance. “Lucky, later.”

  “Vito says…” Lucky started but Sissy and Hector were already at the elevator, Hector had tagged the button and the doors were sliding open.

  I joined them and we moved into the elevator as Lucky started to come our way. He was too late. Luke had already moved to block the path between Lucky and us.

  The doors started closing, Luke looked over his shoulder at us and, for some, bizarre, unhinged, insane reason I mouthed, “I owe you.”

  I just caught his sexy half-grin and the so ultra-warm it was hot look in his eyes before the doors closed.

  Hell and damnation.

  Now I was screwing myself!

  * * * * *

  “Are you mad at me?” Sissy asked.

  I looked at Hector. He was standing three feet away talking to Hank. We were at the police station and Sissy had just ID’d a bad guy.

  On the way over I told Sissy about what she was up against with Uncle Vito. I told her Luke would keep her safe if she didn’t want to “disappear”. I also told her that I wanted her to take Luke up on his offer. Then I told her I really wanted her to take Luke up on his offer and I didn’t even care if it meant I owed him.

  Sissy nodded but she didn’t say anything. We rolled into the police station, it took forever for them to sort out the line up and Sissy had ID’d the bad guy.

  Then she turned to Hector and said, “Take me to Dom.”

  I sucked in breath and wished there was something to bang my head on, a wall, a floor, a very hard rock.

  Sissy took my hand. “I know you think I’m crazy but there are times when you aren’t there when he can be really sweet. A lot of times, Ava.”

  I just stopped myself from rolling my eyes. “I know, you’ve told me that before.” And she had.

  “He’s not perfect.”

  She could say that again. I kept my lips zipped.

  “I love him,” she said quietly.

  Shit.

  “Don’t be mad at me,” she went on.

  I unzipped my lips. “He kissed me,” I reminded her.

  She looked away.

  “In your kitchen,” I continued.

  She sighed.

  “While you were in the house.” I kept at it.

  She looked back at me but she didn’t reply.

  I went for the killer diller. “Sissy, his crazy shit got Big Bobby put in a coma.”

  She moved, just slightly but I caught it, like a flinch.

  Then she said, ultra quiet, “Ava, honey, you don’t get it. I’m never gonna find my Luke. Some hot guy who calls me a knockout, chases me like I’m the greatest thing since sliced bread and shields me from bullets with his body.”

  I didn’t want to say anything but that last part wasn’t exactly fun.

  She kept going. “Dom’s the closest thing I’m going to get. I’m twenty-nine and going to be divorced. That’s just sad, I’m just sad.”

  “Shut up,” I broke in, beginning to get pissed. “You’re not sad.”

  “I’m sad.”

  “You’re sweet and funny and loyal and everyone loves you.”

  “I’m sad.”

  “You’re beautiful. You look like a happy, pretty human fairy.”

  “I do not. I’m not beautiful. I’m not happy-pretty. I’m just Sissy. I even have a shit name. What kind of name is Sissy? Ava’s the name of a knockout. Sissy’s the name of a sad, twenty-nine year old, silly-fairy divorcée.”

  Before I could retort, Hector got close. “In an effort to speed things up since Santo and Lucky both just entered the building…” Hector said his first words since we had been with him (okay maybe second, when we arrived at the station, he said, “this way”). He turned to Sissy. “You’re right, your friend’s a knockout. Lotta guys go for tits, ass and attitude. Lotta guys also go for the sweet, pretty women they feel they gotta protect who don’t realize they’re all that. My brother’s livin’ with one. You’re another one. You don’t think you’re all that which makes you even more all that. Trust me, you’re pretty. You’re your own brand of hot. You’re gonna find a good man who appreciates that and you shouldn’t waste your time on some asshole who doesn’t. Does that help?”

  Both Sissy and I were staring at Hector, speechless.

  “Well?” he demanded, sounding impatient.

  “I think I’ll go to the safe room,” Sissy breathed, still staring at Hector.

  Yippee!

  “I’m gonna kiss you all over,” I told Hector.

  His eyes cut to me and I immediately regretted my words because he looked like he was happy to take me up on that offer. Guess Hector was all about tits, ass and attitude.

  Eek! Not another one.

  “Let’s go,” I announced, ignoring Hector’s happy to be kissed all over look.

  I grabbed Sissy’s hand and we started motoring.

  * * * * *

  Hector took Sissy to the safe room at the offices and I went with them. It was my first time back to the Nightingale Investigations offices after my first and last crazy adventure there.

  We arrived and Shirleen was on the phone, handset in the crook of her neck, peering into a hand-held mirror, plucking her eyebrows.

  She dropped the mirror and the tweezers upon seeing us. “Dorothea, gotta go, my girl’s here with her girl. We gotta lock old Sissy down so the Italians don’t get her. Long story, I’ll tell you later.” Then she hung up and raced around the desk to Sissy and me and she told us, “I was getting worried. Nothing was happening. I thought maybe I got the Bum Rock Chick. But we got you guys wrestling on tape and you should see it. It was great. You went down, whomp, and neither of you even noticed, just kept right on wrestling,” Shirleen said.

  I turned to Sissy (who was, by the way, looking pale). “Um, forgot to mention, Luke’s got the loft wired with cameras so the boys can keep an eye on me.”

  Sissy went paler.

  Shirleen was walking with us as we followed Hector. “I put clean sheets on the bed and when I found out that we might have a girl coming over, I went out and bought that movie 300 to add to the library in the safe room. That movie is great. I’ve watched it at least ten times. Hot, white boys in leather jockey shorts and red capes. And sandals! How those boys can make sandals hot, I do not know, but those boys kicked ass in those sandals. Blood everywhere. Heads flyin’ off. Have you seen it?” she asked Sissy.

  Sissy shook her head and Shirleen linked her arm through Sissy’s.

  “We’ll watch it together,
like, right now. Part of my job description includes lookin’ after the prison… I mean, our guests. Lee won’t mind I watch a little leather jockey shorts action.”

  Hector had disappeared behind a door. Shirleen pulled ahead of me, dragging Sissy with her, clearly keen on getting to her movie. Sissy looked over her shoulder, her face kind of scared, I smiled at her and waved as she and Shirleen disappeared in the door where Hector had gone.

  At that moment another door opened and Luke was there. He looked at me, gave me a grin and I stopped.

  “Hey,” I said when he made it to me.

  “I see she made the right decision,” he replied.

  “Yeah.”

  His grin went into a full-fledged smile and not only because he was happy my bestest best friend was not going to disappear.

  “So, this means you owe me again,” he noted.

  Uh-oh.

  “Actually I owe Hector more than I owe you. She was going to go back to Dom but he talked her out of it,” I tried.

  He shook his head, clearly not agreeing with me.

  Foiled!

  I knew it was a long shot but he never gave me anything.

  “Tonight, I call this marker or your punishment marker. Your choice.”

  “Luke,” I said softly, not about to let him call any markers and definitely not letting him call the punishment one. I was never going to touch myself while Luke watched. I’d already gone way passed my sexual adventure boundary. Okay sure, one could argue that I liked leaping over that boundary. In fact this morning, about a nanosecond after Luke flipped me into the second position and slid inside me I decided that I was never going to have sex in any other position but that one ever again (until he did the third one, of course).

  Still.

  “Babe.” Clearly Luke was not about to be denied and, I could swear by the amused look on his face he knew my thoughts.

  I crossed my arms on my chest. He gave me a half-grin.

  “Lucas Stark, don’t you think that you –”

  He interrupted me. “Don’t you have a gig to get to?”

  I looked at my watch. It was well past six o’clock. We were meeting at My Brother’s Bar at seven for dinner and drinks before we went to the gig and I had at least an hour’s worth of Rock Chick on the Town prep work to do to my face, hair and wardrobe.

  “I need to get home, like, now!” I said, bouncing in my Crocs.

  Luke’s body shifted, his arm curved around my shoulders and he walked me down the hall, murmuring, “Let’s get you home.”

  “Bye Sissy!” I shouted.

  “Enjoy Stella,” she shouted back.

  “Bye Shirleen!” I shouted.

  “Don’t get shot at!” Shirleen shouted back.

  “Bye Hot Bunch Boys!” I shouted.

  No answer.

  “Hot Bunch Boys?” Luke asked, pushing through the door into reception, his arm moved from around my shoulders to curl around my neck.

  Oops.

  In the immortal words of Britney Spears (or whoever wrote that song for her), I did it again.

  Prudently, I decided after that to keep my mouth shut.

  Luke let it go, we got in his Porsche and he took me “home”.

  Which, by the way, was the loft.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Fight

  We were listening to Stella and The Blue Moon Gypsies playing “Jessica” by The Allman Brothers Band. Indy, Ally, Jules, Daisy, Roxie, Jet and I were up front, right at the stage, shaking our booties like the crazy Rock Chicks we were.

  Luke had taken me back to the loft and the minute the elevator doors opened I flew into my getting ready to rock preparation. Mace came over while I was in the bathroom laying on my Rock Makeup.

  Before he left to do Secret Luke Things in the Night (his planned activities, I will note, he didn’t share with me but then again I didn’t ask, probably because I didn’t want to know), Luke walked into the bathroom, grabbed my hips, twirled me around, pressed me back against the sink and laid a hot and heavy one on me.

  When he lifted his head, I asked (or more like mouthed, but with a bit of sound coming out), “What was that for?”

  He framed my face with his hands (which for Luke was a weird thing to do, a sweet weird thing but weird nonetheless) and stared at me, a strange look on his face that made my stomach feel funny but in a good way, a scary good way. What he didn’t do was answer. He simply kissed my nose and left me with Mace.

  I decided it was best for my peace of mind not to think about what was on Luke’s mind when he touched and kissed me like that. It was even better for my peace of mind not to think about what I felt when Luke touched and kissed me like that.

  Instead, I focused on rock ‘n’ roll – my constant, my touchstone, the only thing other than Sissy that could get me through anything.

  I pulled on my supremely faded jeans and a thick tan belt, the leather tooled with flowers and vines that had been painted. I topped this with a fitted, chambray cowgirl shirt, complete with pearl snap buttons at the breast pockets, down the front and four up the cuffs. I wore this over a white tank top and finished the outfit off with tons of silver and my fawn-suede cowboy boots.

  It was cowboy chic, not rock ‘n’ roll chic but I was in Denver and Denverites swung both ways.

  Mace wasn’t Mr. Talkative. In fact he was actually kind of broody but, like all of the Hot Bunch, this character trait worked for him (in a big way). I did find out that his name wasn’t actually Mace, his name was Kai Mason, he was from Hawaii and he wasn’t talkative. I found out the last bit because the first two bits took me a gazillion questions to get out of him so eventually I gave up.

  The girls (and Mace) did dinner then we all went to the gig at Herman’s Hideaway on Broadway.

  Santo had disappeared which I decided to take as a good sign that the bad guys were no longer after me. However I wondered what this meant regarding my tenure at Luke’s loft since, if the bad guys weren’t after me anymore, I wouldn’t need to stay with Luke anymore.

  Another thought to put on the list to consider later.

  We sent word to Stella that we were there but other than that we didn’t bother her pre-gig. As always she’d have a drink with us during a break.

  Stella and the Gypsies came out only fifteen minutes late (they were usually half an hour late or more). They looked pissed off but ready to rock. This wasn’t unusual either, the band fought all the time. They were constantly in danger of breaking up but somehow, likely using all of the piss and vinegar she had (which was a lot), Stella kept them together. She was like the mother of a dysfunctional family and I knew (because she told me) that it took all her energy. If she wasn’t practicing guitar or the band wasn’t rehearsing, she was caught up in some band member’s mess. She did this because the Gypsies played so well together they were worth the struggle. She also did this because she cared about them, from what I knew probably more than they deserved.

  Stella started the set with serious head-bouncing energy including the guitar riffs and piano of The Doobie Brothers’ “China Grove” and didn’t give herself a breather before she slammed straight into Molly Hatchett’s “Flirtin’ with Disaster”. She didn’t make us wait for the famous “black” portion of her set list starting with Ram Jam’s “Black Betty”, sliding straight into The Black Crowes’ “Kickin’ My Heart Around”, taking it easy a bit for the Doobie’s “Black Water” and Alannah Myles’s “Black Velvet” then twanging through the Black Rebel’s “Ain’t No Easy Way”. She gave us a break from screaming out lyrics and bouncing around like lunatics by slowing it down with The Marshall Tucker Band’s “Can’t You See”, one of the few songs she didn’t sing herself but handed off to her bass player, Buzz. It was after that Stella and the Gypsies started the “Jessica” jam.

  Stella didn’t often pull out “Jessica” but when she did the crowd ate it up. This was no exception and the Rock Chicks at the front were acting like it was our last meal.

  Stella wa
s rocking into Melissa Etheridge’s “Bring Me Some Water” when Mace and I peeled off from the rest of the Rock Chicks for a beverage break, getting Fat Tire orders from the girls before we went to the bar.

  I was standing amongst the crush at the bar when I looked up at Mace and noticed his eyes were locked on Stella. I followed his eyes to the stage and watched for a few seconds while she rasped out Etheridge’s lyrics.