Rock Chick Renegade

by Ashley, Kristen

  “Because I didn’t want this exact same thing to happen,” I said in a soft clip, giving up on getting them to be quiet.

  “Ya’l , what is goin’ on? ” May asked, pushing close and I could see Daisy on her heels.

  Damn.

  Daisy. Not good.

  And May. Worse.

  “Jules broke up with Vance. It’s over,” Roxie, Tod and Al y said together.

  “You are jokin’,” Daisy said, eyes narrowed and I moved back, not wanting to be in bitch-slapping-nail-scratching distance.

  “Where’s that cake? I’m takin’ back the cake. Lettin’ my grandchildren eat it. They aren’t crazy fools. They deserve it,” May announced.

  “Please don’t make a big deal if this. This is not a big deal. We’ve only been together a few days,” I told them.

  “A few days for these boys is a few months for normal men. He’s in deep, you’re in deep and you damn wel know it,” Daisy snapped.

  “Yes. I do,” I snapped back, leaning into her and having… had… enough.

  It was my fucking life and it was my fucking birthday and I could do whatever the hel I wanted.

  At my tone and what I didn’t know was the look on my face, everyone leaned back a bit.

  “My whole family died in a car crash when I was six. My Mom, Dad and older brother. I was with them, got real y hurt, spent a lot of time in the hospital but I survived. When I was ten, my new puppy was run over by a truck. Splat!” I clapped one palm on the other and everyone jumped.

  “When I was eleven, my grandpa, the only living grandparent I had left, died of Parkinson’s. When I was fifteen, my Auntie Reba died after having knee replacement surgery. Knee replacement surgery, ” I hissed the last three words. “Four months ago, Park died. I found him in an al ey.

  He was the best kid I’d ever met and I’ve met a lot of them.

  This morning, I saw the scar of the gunshot wound Vance got during some business he was doing for Lee. He was shot again a few days ago, protecting me. I wil not lose another person in my life. I wil not lose someone else I care about. I will not.”

  “Girlie –” Tod said softly.

  My eyes were blurry again and I just hated that. “I wil not,” I repeated, turning to Tod.

  “What on earth is going on?” Stevie asked, coming late.

  “Everyone is staring.”

  My eyes moved to Stevie and my stomach twisted tighter to the point where I thought I might be sick. “Could they hear me?” I whispered after I’d swal owed back the nausea.

  Stevie took one look at my face and blinked. Then he looked at Tod. Tod shook his head. Stevie’s eyes came back to me. “No, they couldn’t hear you. Are you okay?”

  “No, I’m not okay,” I said to Stevie and then looked at May. “Can you please, please…” I grabbed her hand and leaned into her, “please, just serve the cake? I real y need that cake.”

  She didn’t argue, nodded her head and her hand squeezed mine. “Sure, hon, I’l serve the cake.” I closed my eyes again, let out a deep breath and then looked at May. “Thank you.” May peeled off to serve the cake and I looked around at the concerned faces. “Can we quit talking about this and just enjoy this wonderful party?” Daisy came forward, her arm went around my waist and she held on tight. “Sure, Sugar.” Then she looked back at the gang. “I think we need more champagne.”

  “That’d be good,” I whispered, blinking a few times until

  “That’d be good,” I whispered, blinking a few times until my vision cleared.

  That’s when Jet arrived. She was smiling so huge it lit up the room. She walked up looking somehow dazed and completely unaware and oblivious to the undercurrents of the recent drama.

  “Hey guys,” she said then smiled at me and gave me a kiss on the cheek, “happy birthday Jules.” On closer inspection she didn’t look dazed, she looked dreamy.

  “Jet,” I asked, “are you okay?”

  “I’m okay. I’m way okay. I’m so okay it’s worth the fucking f-word. I’m fucking, fucking okay.”

  “What’s going on?” Al y asked.

  Jet turned to her. “Eddie told me he loved me tonight.

  That’s why we’re late. I, um… kinda pounced on him when he did it.”

  Everyone stared.

  My stomach twisted further. Hateful jealousy I wished I didn’t feel causing the pain even as my heart warmed for Jet.

  Daisy let me go and hugged Jet. “That is so sweet,” she said when she broke the hug. “Champagne! We need champagne! Right here!” she shouted though who she was shouting at I did not know, there weren’t any waiters, it was a help-yourself kind of deal.

  “I’l get the champagne,” Indy offered with a hand squeeze for Jet and a quick, worried look at me.

  I ignored the worried look. I didn’t need any worried looks. I needed this night to be over.

  Jet moved beside me as Tod, Daisy and Roxie formed a huddle close by (likely to talk about me, I ignored that too) and Al y wandered away (scarily in a direction that would lead her to Vance, I ignored that too).

  “Did you tel him you love him?” I asked Jet.

  “I told him that ages ago when I tried to break up with him.”

  I couldn’t help it, even with al the emotion what she said made no sense and thus made me smile.

  “As you know I’m no expert but that sure as hel doesn’t sound like the way to break up with someone,” I told her.

  She grinned at me, stil in her dreamy daze. “It wasn’t though I didn’t know that. I moved in during my troubles and he didn’t let me break up with him when they were over and never let me move out. This past weekend I even painted his bathroom this real y cool shade of deep, deep lavender, a real y rich color but Al y said Eddie’d lose his mind to have a purple bathroom. Stil , he told me he loved me. Even a purple bathroom didn’t faze Eddie.”

  She was gazing across the room while she talked and I fol owed her gaze. I looked across the room and saw Eddie, his eyes on Jet, his lips twitching, his thoughts clearly private but in a seriously sexy, public way.

  I put my arm around her waist and she did the same with mine. “I think you could have painted the bathroom flamingo pink and it wouldn’t faze Eddie.”

  She looked at me, her face had settled, lost its daze and was now just plain happy.

  “I know,” she said softly.

  Don’t ask me why but I touched the side of my head to hers and gave her waist a squeeze. She squeezed me back.

  Then May came out with a birthday cake loaded with lit candles singing happy birthday and everyone joined in.

  * * * * *

  A couple of hours later, the party was winding down and Nick walked up to me. With a polite smile, he pul ed me away from talking to Zip and Heavy.

  “I’m leavin’, Jules,” he said to me, walking me to the door where he stopped.

  “Did you have fun?” I asked, smiling up at him.

  “Yeah. They’re good people.”

  He was right, they were.

  “Got somethin’ to say, Jules.”

  I cocked my head to the side not sure I liked his tone but having had just enough champagne to be able to ignore that too.

  “Noticed you gave Vance a wide berth tonight. Don’t know why and it’s none of my business.”

  I held my breath knowing from experience he wasn’t done talking and I was right.

  Nick continued. “Been scared stiff these past four months, you doin’ what you’re doin’. You know that. The only two good nights of sleep I’ve had in those months have been the last two, with his Harley sittin’ outside the backdoor.”

  Oh crap.

  Vance had Nick’s approval. I knew that but I’d been trying to ignore it. I also knew that he worried about me a lot and I’d been trying to ignore that too.

  What I didn’t need to know was that Vance made him feel like I was safe.

  “Nick, his Harley won’t be out there anymore,” I told him softly.

  Nick did
n’t even try to hide the disappointment on his face. I tried to ignore that too.

  I failed.

  “The way you two are tonight, was worried about that,” Nick said.

  I took a breath and forged ahead. “I won’t be home tonight, can you feed Boo in the morning?” Nick stared at me a beat, clearly confused at this contradictory information. I didn’t enlighten him.

  Then he said, “I hope you know what you’re doin’, Jules.”

  “I do,” I replied with fake brightness. “Don’t I always?”

  “Yeah,” he said but he shook his head, “you always know what you’re doin’. Just can’t say you’ve always done the right thing.”

  “Nick –”

  “It may almost always be the right thing for others but it usual y wasn’t the right thing for you,” he told me. “Life ain’t worth livin’, Jules, if you don’t take a few risks and I’m not talkin’ about puttin’ your ass on the line to save the world.

  I’m talkin’ about puttin’ your ass on the line to save yourself.” I didn’t have anything to say to that and I didn’t have a chance to find anything to say. Vance walked up beside us approaching me for the first time that evening (although, I’d seen him talking several times with Nick).

  “Time to go,” he said, eyes on me and the look in them sent a shiver up my spine and not in the usual good way.

  I nodded.

  His eyes cut to Nick and his hand came out. “‘Night, Nick,” he said.

  “Vance,” Nick shook his hand and then they broke off,

  “you two enjoy the rest of your evening.”

  Then Nick went out the door.

  “I’l get your jacket,” Vance said and peeled off.

  While he was gone I lifted my chin, squared my shoulders, mental y prepared for what was to come and in the middle of that I caught Indy’s eye.

  She was standing next to Lee; he had his arm around her shoulders and was talking to Eddie. Indy had her arm around his waist and she was looking at me. She put her head to his chest and smiled encouragingly.

  Vance came up, my backpack over one of his shoulders, my jacket over his arm.

  “Thanks everybody!” I yel ed, they turned, cal ed their goodnights and happy birthdays.

  I waved with pretend happiness. I even blew a few kisses (which was not good for a head-crackin’ mamma jamma to do but for once I was amongst friends) and then we were gone.

  Chapter Sixteen

  You Wanna Talk Now?

  We took Sixth Avenue west to I-70, Vance driving fast.

  Me pressed against him from crotch to shoulders (dress stretched to the max); arms tight around his waist; backpack on my back; Harley roaring between my legs; my hair flying behind me; my legs freezing in the cold. I alternately pressed my cheek into his shoulder or gazed over it, not quite sad, scared or cold enough not to enjoy the ride.

  We went into the foothil s, passed the end of the city lights, strip mal s and suburbs where the skies became a bit clearer and you could see the stars a whole lot better.

  He exited I-70 and I memorized our route just because, letting myself pretend that I might take it again one day. It was major thoroughfare left to minor thoroughfare. Minor thoroughfare right to a one lane road. One lane road left to a dirt road. I was guessing we were somewhere between Golden and Evergreen. What I did know was that we were in the middle of nowhere.

  Final y he pul ed off into a gravel lane and his headlight flashed on a smal , one-story log cabin surrounded by pine trees except for a clearing to the north where there was a major outbuilding.

  In the drive there was an oldish Ford pickup truck, not ancient but it had at least ten years on it. It was blue, it was dusty and you could tel it was wel -used. Next to that was a horse trailer.

  Vance stopped the bike, cut the light, I got off and pul ed down my skirt. So did he (without the skirt part). We did the whole backpack whirl thing again and then he grabbed my hand and walked me to the house. Al this was done in silence.

  I was finding it hard to deal with silence. “Do you have horses?” I asked.

  “One. Stable two for my neighbors in exchange for them feeding, watering and exercising mine when I’m in town which is most of the time,” he replied in a way that didn’t invite further questions.

  He walked right up to the house hand wrapped around mine and opened the unlocked door.

  “You don’t lock your house?” I asked, shocked. Vance, security expert, didn’t lock his own house. He was in the middle of nowhere but stil .

  “Got nothin’ to steal,” he said.

  We walked in and he flipped on a light and with one look around I realized he was right. He indeed had nothing to steal.

  He dropped my hand, closed the door and walked through the house, leaving me at the door and disappearing down a dark hal . Then a light came on from there.

  I looked around more, came forward and took my blazer off, wrapping it around the back of a chair.

  It could be cute, his cabin, definitely cozy. The wal s were made of wel -sealed logs. The floors were wood with some rugs thrown over them, mostly multi-colored and braided, not tatty but not designer-cabin-chic either. The front room was one biggish room incorporating the dining room, living room and kitchen. There was a big stone hearth on the side wal of the living room, a smal er one on the opposite side, next to the dining table.

  To the right was the living room. He had a couch, over it thrown a colorful Native American blanket. A coffee table in front, cluttered with books, some opened and placed face down, some stacked even on the floor and under the table.

  A floor lamp made of a twisted branch was beside the couch, buffalos dancing across the shade. The back of a beat up leather armchair faced the dining room/kitchen area.

  And that was it. No television, no stereo, no pictures, nothing.

  The kitchen was a u-shape, back and side wal s had top and bottom cabinets, a counter delineating it from the dining area with only bottom cabinets. The cabinets were made of a fantastic knotty-pine. They’d look great refinished and with a gleam to them especial y if granite or concrete counter tops replaced the old worn brown one he had. A coffeemaker and a toaster were the only things on the counter except for a stack of mail. The dining area held an old, round, oak four-seater. Like everything else it was in good condition but worn, maybe bought secondhand because it was old enough to pre-date Vance’s ownership and too worn for stuff that had little use if he wasn’t home very often.

  Vance came back into the room and I looked at him.

  He stopped in the entryway to the hal and leaned a shoulder against it, eyes on me.

  “If you don’t stay here very often, where do you stay when you’re in town?” I’d asked out of curiosity not able to help myself mostly because I wanted to know.

  It wasn’t a good decision.

  He stayed silent for a beat after my question then his face changed and not in a good way.

  “You wanna talk now?” he asked, voice low. “Get to know me a little better?”

  Um.

  Not good.

  Someone was not in a happy mood.

  “Crowe, I’m just trying to make conversation,” I said quietly, deciding not to spit in the eye of the tiger at this juncture.

  He pushed away from the wal and started toward me. “I don’t wanna have a conversation. I wanna fuck.” My body prepared to flee but my mind stopped it and I held my ground. “I’m beginning to hate it when you say it like that,” I said sharply.

  I didn’t real y hate it, not before. It was kind of a turn on.

  But I did hate it now especial y the way he just said it which was not nice.

  He stopped in front of me and just at the edge of my space. The whole time he approached me, his eyes were on mine.

  “I work when I’m in town. If I need to sleep, I sleep on the couch in the down room. If I need to shower, I use the shower there. I keep clothes in my locker. A lot of the time I’m out hunting and not in town at al .
I come up here when I have time off which isn’t very often,” he answered my question.

  “Why do you work so much?” I asked but wished I hadn’t.

  Again I couldn’t help myself. I just wanted to know.

  “It’s what I do,” he replied.

  “But why?”

  He stared at me a second, leaned forward and took my hand. “Question time is over.”

  Oh crap.

  Then he turned and pul ed me across the room and down the hal .

  It was undignified to struggle especial y in high heels and a little black dress. So I didn’t but my bel y flutter, coupled with the stomach twist, made me feel a little queasy.

  He pul ed me into a room off the left of the hal , his bedroom.

  The lamp was on by the bed. It was an old iron bed, painted black, a double. The mattresses, though, looked firm and new. There was a down comforter on it covered in a dark brown twil and another Native American blanket thrown over the comforter, light brown pil ow cases over the pil ows. There was a dresser, two nightstands (both with lamps and more books on them) and an old wardrobe (because there was no closet). On the outside wal was another stone-hearth fireplace nearly as big as the living room. The only thing on the wal s was a hide stretched across and stitched tight to a bent piece of wood, an image of an eagle shaved into the fur.

  Vance stopped by the bed. He’d already taken off his jacket earlier and now he started to unbutton his shirt.

  “Crowe –” I started.

  “Take off your dress,” he interrupted me, his voice sharp.

  I blinked at him, shocked at his tone.

  Then I ral ied. “Can we please talk, just for a few minutes?”

  I wasn’t beginning to get freaked. I was ful -on freaked.

  It didn’t take an experienced relationship expert to realize he was pissed off and I didn’t understand. If he was pissed off, why did he want me there at al ? It was like he wanted to make this hard on me and I didn’t like that, not about him.

  Furthermore, why was I there? I’d never agreed to it. I hadn’t even agreed to going to the party with him.