Rock Chick Renegade

by Ashley, Kristen

  I weaved a bit and giggled to myself, cooing to Boo,

  “Mommy’s drunk! ” as I walked to the bathroom, washed my face, slathered it with moisturizer, changed into a nightgown and Boo and I climbed somewhat gracelessly up into the bed.

  Then the phone rang so I grabbed it.

  “Hel o,” I sang happily (okay, more like drunkenly).

  “Go set your alarm,” Vance said in my ear.

  “What?”

  “Bobby just cal ed me, told me you got home, Lee walked you to the door but you didn’t set your alarm. Go set it.”

  “Okay,” I said, again happily (yes, more appropriately drunkenly) and scooted to the end of the bed.

  I took the phone with me and held it to my ear as I jumped down, stumbled a little and muttered, “Shit,” before giggling.

  Throughout this there was silence in my ear. Then, “Are you drunk?”

  Shit.

  “Um…”

  Vance was an alcoholic. I was a social worker so I knew al about alcoholics. Stil , I’d never read a book about how to deal with one when he was your shit-hot boyfriend (actual y, I was pretty sure I had but I was forgetting in my drunken state what it said).

  Therefore I stayed silent after my initial “um”.

  “How drunk are you?” Vance asked as I made it to the alarm keypad in the living room.

  I didn’t answer intent on the task at hand. I punched in some numbers and the keypad started beeping angrily.

  “Whoops,” I said and narrowed my eyes at the keypad.

  “Jules,” Vance said in my ear.

  “Quiet, I’m concentrating,” and I was.

  I heard him chuckle.

  “Quiet!” I demanded.

  His amusement stil came at me as I punched the right code in and the alarm stopped beeping.

  “Did it!” I announced as if I’d just cracked the code to the security system protecting the Hope Diamond.

  I started walking back to the bed as Vance asked again,

  “Al right, Princess, now tel me, how drunk are you?” Oh wel , honesty, Auntie Reba and Nick always told me, was the best policy.

  “Five cosmos drunk,” I told him.

  “Five?”

  I decided to fib by omission and leave out mentioning the shots when I started up the steps to the bed platform and cracked my head against the hal ceiling.

  “Ouch!”

  “Jules?” Vance said in my ear.

  “Okay. It’s okay. I’m okay. Everyone’s okay,” I declared as I shoved myself in the opening and col apsed on the bed.

  Vance was laughing again.

  “You aren’t mad?” I asked.

  “Fuck no. Five cosmos drunk means you’l stil be drunk when I get back.”

  “Is that good?”

  “Yeah, Princess, it’s good.”

  “Why?”

  He didn’t answer, he just said, “The skip was wanted in C Springs. I’ve just processed him at a station there and I’m passing the Academy now. I’l be home in a little over an hour.”

  “Okay,” I replied happily (this time more happily than drunkenly).

  “Take off your underwear.”

  My breath caught and I went instantly sober. “What?” I whispered.

  “Go to sleep without any underwear.”

  “Vance,” I was stil whispering.

  “Princess, do it.” His voice was silk and it slid through the phone and across my skin like it was alive.

  “Okay.” Yes, stil whispering.

  “See you soon,” he said.

  “Okay.”

  Disconnect.

  I laid there a second, wondering if I could sleep without my underwear. Considering the fact that I was seriously turned on, I figured I wouldn’t sleep anyway so I took off my underwear, turned off the light and settled in, cuddling Boo and waiting for Vance.

  In about two minutes, I was asleep.

  * * * * *

  I was yanked off the edge of the bed with hands at my ankles. I let out a surprised gasp, Boo went flying, I landed hard on the floor and an arm came around my waist while a hand went over my mouth.

  I stared up, thinking (or, more like hoping) I’d be seeing Vance, but in the darkness I saw Hector Chavez.

  I screamed against his hand and started struggling.

  He pushed me into the bed platform, his body hard against mine and again I felt his immense heat.

  “Quiet. Roam’s in trouble,” he hissed at me. I stopped struggling immediately at his words and he dropped his hand and stepped away from me. “Get dressed, get your gun. Now.”

  Without asking a single question and flying through the house, I grabbed my clothes and shoes then ran into the bathroom and dressed.

  I thanked my lucky stars I had worn a longish nightgown to bed because I was stil panty-less when Hector pul ed me out. I also thanked my luckier stars that fear for one of my boys made me sober as a nun. Vance wouldn’t be happy I was sober but maybe I’d do a shot or two of tequila when I got done with this gig.

  After I dressed I exited the bathroom, knelt in the hal and put my black Pumas on. “What’s happening?”

  “Cordova got him,” Hector answered.

  “God dammit,” I snapped.

  I went to the sliding doors under my bed, opened a drawer and rooted through my underwear until I had my gun.

  I knew Cordova had been released from the hospital (it was only a flesh wound) but I thought he’d been released to jail.

  As I looked for my gun, I asked, “Why?”

  “Fuck knows. He’s pissed at you. Maybe he thinks he can use Roam to make you pay.”

  “I thought Cordova was in jail,” I said while I tucked my gun into the back waistband of my cords.

  “Bonded out.”

  “Fuck,” I muttered.

  “Let’s go,” he said.

  We went.

  * * * * *

  It’s important to note at this point there were a lot of things I should have done. I should have taken my purse. I had my panic button and phone in my purse. Not to mention a tracking device.

  I should have cal ed Vance, told him where I was going so he wouldn’t worry.

  Not doing that, I should have left a note.

  I should also have cal ed the surveil ance room at Nightingale Investigations. Even the Nightingale Men didn’t go into a situation without backup.

  But I had Hector. Hector was deep cover DEA which meant he was his own brand of badass mother, perhaps scarier than them al and this was Sal Cordova we were talking about. Sal was an idiot.

  So I didn’t do any of these things.

  I should have.

  * * * * *

  Bobby Bobby Zanzinski hated night-time surveil ance. Al of the Nightingale Men hated night-time surveil ance (except Jack, though Jack was kind of a weird guy).

  Night-time surveil ance was boring as hel . It meant Fortnum’s was closed and Vance was normal y at Jules’s (or Jules was asleep) so you couldn’t watch her wandering around saying stupid shit to her cat.

  Bobby could watch Jules for hours, any of them could, that woman was smokin’.

  He sat in the surveil ance room and came instantly alert when Hector Chavez approached the house. Bobby watched Hector break into Law’s duplex then disable her alarm.

  “Fuck,” he muttered.

  He knew who Hector was but Bobby was stil alarmed.

  Those deep cover DEA guys were nuts, pure and simple.

  Fuck knew why Hector was breaking in, so Bobby leaned forward and turned up the volume to her speakers and got ready to cal Vance.

  As he reached for the phone, on another monitor Bobby saw Vance drive into the underground parking area. Vance would come up and drop the keys.

  Bobby decided to wait and tel him when he got there.

  Lord knows The Law can take care of herself, Bobby thought on a smile.

  * * * * *

  Shirleen Shirleen heard her phone ringing; she rol ed, reached out, grabbed it and put
it to her ear.

  “This better be good,” she mumbled.

  “Aunt Shirleen,” Darius said in her ear.

  Shirleen came instantly awake and sober. “What’s up, son?”

  “Got word. Shard’s back.”

  Shirleen felt a chil snake down her spine. Anyone with an ear to the ground knew what was on Shard’s mind, namely making Jules pay.

  “I thought Lee’s boys –” Shirleen started.

  “Shard’s back and he’s pissed. He’s goin’ after Law’s kids. Gonna draw her out.”

  Shirleen threw back her purple, satin covers. “Cal Lee,” she ordered.

  “I’l take care of it. I’ve got some boys out lookin’ for him.”

  “No, boy. You cal Lee. Let the professionals handle this.”

  “Aunt Shirleen.”

  “Boy –”

  “Boy –”

  “I’l handle it.”

  Disconnect.

  Shirleen stared at the phone in the darkness for two seconds. Then she turned on the light and ran to her desk to find Daisy’s home number.

  * * * * *

  Sniff Sniff was running. He was running, crying, snot coming out of his nose, breathing heavy.

  He had to get to Law. He had to get to her. He had to get to her now.

  When Cordova took Roam, Sniff had seen it. He’d fol owed them, knowing that Cordova was an idiot and an asshole. Roam could handle Cordova. Hel , their geeky tutor Stu could handle Cordova. Sniff could even handle Cordova.

  Sniff had caught a ride with some Mexican gang-bangers he knew who put up with Sniff because they thought he was funny. They took him to Cordova’s place then they’d peeled out, leaving him there.

  Sniff had approached the house thinking to get a giggle while Roam kicked Cordova’s ass and when he saw what he saw through the window, he’d taken off.

  He was so freaked out, he’d dropped his fucking, fucking (and he vowed to himself he’d never say “fucking” again if Law got Roam out of this) phone somewhere along the way and as usual he had no money to make a pay cal .

  A car came down the street and he stopped and put out his arm to flag it down, desperate, shouting.

  The car passed him.

  Without hesitation, he kept running and trying to keep the vision of Roam, bloody and what Sniff hoped was only unconscious, out of his brain.

  Worse stil , the vision of a dead Cordova.

  It wasn’t working.

  Sniff turned onto Colfax, running down the busier street, hoping he could flag down a ride.

  He was miles away from Law, he’d never make it.

  He saw a black Porsche pass him, the brake lights lit and then the Porsche pul ed over. Sniff ran toward it, opening his mouth to yel when the door opened and Luke Stark knifed out the driver’s side.

  Sniff could have jumped for joy.

  Instead he stopped and as Luke approached him he doubled over, a stitch in his side, and sucked in breath.

  “Sniff,” Luke put a hand to the back of his neck.

  Sniff looked up at him, not caring even a little bit that this super cool guy was going to see his tears and snot and Sniff said, “We gotta find Law.”

  Stark took one look at Sniff’s face and his own went hard in such a way that Sniff felt a thril of fear mingled with hope.

  “Get in the car,” Stark ordered.

  Sniff ran to the car.

  * * * * *

  Roam Roam was awake but pretending to be out.

  Cordova was dead. Shard had shot him, like, seven times. Right in front of Roam. Roam had never seen so much blood in his life and Roam had seen a lot of shit in his life, including blood, including his own but not that much.

  Roam had not put up much of a fuss when Cordova took him at gunpoint to his house, mumbling stupid shit about making Law pay, getting her attention. Roam figured he’d find some way out of it. Anyway, he knew Sniff had seen them and Sniff would cal Law. His idiot, big-mouth friend had done it before, he’d do it again. Everyone knew Law could handle Cordova; she could handle just about anyone.

  They’d got to his house, Cordova stil ranting, tel ing Roam to sit, continuing to talk about Law and how she was just playing with him and she real y wanted him and Roam thought it was kinda funny. It’d be a good story, it’d make Law laugh. He liked to make her laugh. She had a good laugh. She was one fucking hot white bitch normal y but when she laughed her face was amazing.

  Park made her laugh al the time. Park had worked hard at it. He loved to make Law laugh.

  Hel , everyone did.

  Then Shard had walked right in the front door, as calm as you please.

  Cordova turned to him, saying, “What the –” and that was it.

  Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang.

  Dead.

  Roam had been frozen in shock. He should have run.

  If he’d been like Crowe he might have had his head together enough to do something, if not to save Cordova then to save himself.

  Roam wasn’t like Crowe.

  But when Shard turned to Roam he didn’t shoot him, he beat the shit out of him. Roam put up a fight but even al beaten up himself (his face was a swol en, bruised mess) Shard was stil stronger, older and smarter than Roam.

  So final y, nose bloodied, face cut, ribs burning and after he’d spit up blood the second time, Roam feigned being knocked out and went down.

  And he waited.

  Shard stood over Roam, Roam felt him there instead of opening his eyes. He listened as Shard cal ed someone and said, “Got Roam. Tel the bitch I’m at Cordova’s. She comes alone or I put a bul et in his brain.” Then he flipped his phone shut and waited.

  Roam hoped Law wasn’t stupid enough to come alone.

  He’d never seen her in action personal y but Martin and Curtis said she was the shit.

  Stil , Roam hoped she’d send Crowe.

  * * * * *

  Jules Hector stopped his car and turned to me.

  “Let’s rol ,” he said.

  I went out my side, he went out his.

  He disappeared into the night.

  I ran to the house Hector told me was Cordova’s, one block and three houses down.

  Hector, stil trying to protect his cover, couldn’t be seen.

  He was running backup for me only if I needed it and while he was positioning himself at the back of the house I was going to the front.

  I hadn’t brought my phone and Hector didn’t know who had his tapped. We figured I could cal the police or Vance once I sorted out Cordova. It wouldn’t take long.

  It was a stupid plan.

  * * * * *

  Bobby Bobby watched Vance shoot out of the underground parking area on his Harley.

  He had his earpiece in his ear, phone on in his jacket pocket.

  Bobby eyes were on the GPS screen and he was going to give Vance directions to Cordova’s house via speakerphone.

  By the time Vance made it up to the offices, Bobby had heard Hector tel ing Jules why he’d broken in. Bobby had already had the GPS directions to Cordova’s house on screen when Vance opened the door and stuck his torso in.

  “Keys,” Vance had said, obviously not intent on hanging around, he tossed the keys to Bobby without ful y entering the room.

  “We got a situation,” Bobby told him after he’d nabbed the keys, “Law.”

  Vance’s face got tight and without hesitation he entered the room. Bobby briefed him in thirty seconds.

  Vance had his earphone in his ear before the door to the surveil ance room closed behind him.

  “Turn left,” Bobby told Vance.

  Jesus, Cordova’s a fuckin’ idiot, Bobby thought, Crowe’s gonna feed him his balls for dinner.

  “Next street, turn right,” Bobby said out loud.

  * * * * *

  Lee The phone rang beside the bed. Lee gently rol ed away from the soft, warm body of a dead-to-the-world Indy and snatched his cel off the night table, flipped it open and put it to his ear.
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  “Yeah?” he answered.

  “Lee,” it was Darius.

  Lee got tense.

  Darius went on. “Shard’s in town. He’s got one of Law’s kids. Roam.”

  “Fuck,” Lee clipped.

  Lee was out of bed, dressed and out of the house in two minutes.

  Indy didn’t wake.

  * * * * *

  Shirleen Shirleen was pacing her living room.

  The phone rang and she pounced on it.

  “What?” she snapped.

  “He’s got the brother. Kid’s name is Roam,” Darius told her.

  Shirleen closed her eyes. “Cal Lee.”

  “Already did. We need to find Law’s other kid. I need Daisy’s number.”

  “I cal ed her. She’s got Marcus on it.”

  “I’l cal Marcus.”

  Disconnect.

  Shirleen sat down on her white couch. She put her elbows to her knees and her head in her hands and for the first time in a long time, she prayed.

  * * * * *

  Luke Luke listened to the phone ringing in his ear, it rang twice before connect.

  “Yeah?”

  “Lee. I got Sniff. He says Shard’s back in town. He’s got Roam. I’m headed to Cordova’s.”

  “Why’re you headed to Cordova’s?”

  “Sniff says Shard’s there. He looked through the window.

  He says Cordova is dead, Roam isn’t in good shape. I found Sniff runnin’ down Colfax headed to Law.”

  “Darius cal ed, told me about Shard and Roam, though he didn’t know where he was,” there was a pause then,

  “fuck!” Lee exploded and Luke’s mouth tightened as he heard Lee uncharacteristical y lose control. “Luke, I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

  Luke didn’t either. He had a fucking shitty feeling about this.

  “Sniff’s leading me to the house, he doesn’t know the address. I’l get it to you when I get there,” Luke said.

  “I’l cal the office for directions,” Lee returned, “out.” Disconnect.

  Luke drove, Sniff gave directions. The kid had gotten control, stopped crying, wiped his face on his sweatshirt and was pointing the way with more certainty than Luke would have expected him to in his state.