Rock Chick Redemption

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Rock Chick Redemption Page 16

by Ashley, Kristen


  “Yeah, it’s me. How’s things?” Tex asked.

  I heard my Mom talking to Tex, her voice sounded high and I couldn’t make out what she said. After she talked for a while, I felt Tex’s body relax and he put his hand on the back of my neck.

  “Me and Roxie just had chops and rice. We been spendin’ a few days gettin’ to know each other. She’s a good kid, Trish. You done good with her. How’s Herb?”

  Mom talked again and I heard a knock at the door. I pulled away, reached up on tiptoe and gave Uncle Tex’s fuzzy cheek a kiss and walked to the door.

  I still had a smile on my face when I opened the door.

  The smile faded and my mouth dropped open at what I saw.

  Hank was standing there, still wearing his jeans, boots and wine-colored henley but now he was also wearing his black leather jacket.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked but he didn’t answer.

  He walked in and I jumped out of his way, because if I didn’t he would have walked right into me.

  Hank looked around the room, searching for something.

  Uncle Tex stood holding the phone receiver to his ear, eyes on Hank.

  Then Hank grabbed my purse off the coffee table, came back to me, took my hand and dragged me out the door, slamming it behind us.

  Through the slam, I could hear Uncle Tex’s booming laughter.

  Holy cow.

  What on earth was going on?

  “Hank!” I yelled, trying to pull my hand from his but he was dragging me along the sidewalk toward his 4Runner.

  “Hank! Stop! What’s going on?”

  He took me to the driver’s side, opened it, bent, picked me up and I let out a cry.

  It was like I didn’t make a noise. Hank put me on the seat and then entered behind me so I had to scoot over to the passenger side, double time. Before I could do a thing, even buckle my safety belt, Hank threw my purse in my lap, started the car and took off.

  “Take me back to Tex’s,” I demanded and he ignored me so I carried on. “What are you doing, take me back to Tex’s!”

  He still didn’t say anything.

  “We’ll just see about this,” I snapped, opened my purse and dragged out my phone. Who I was going to call, I did not know, but I was going to call someone.

  I barely got the cell out when Hank plucked it out of my hand and tossed it on the dash, his side of the dash, far away from me.

  I stared at it. Then I stared at him.

  “Well!” I said because I couldn’t think of anything else to say. My heart was hammering in my chest and my mind was in a tizzy.

  Then I figured out what to say.

  “This is crazy. You’re crazy. Denver’s crazy. All you boys skipped right over the last century, didn’t you? I think even the last million years! You’re cavemen,” I rattled on. “I do not believe you just dragged me out of Uncle Tex’s house. He was talking to my Mom!”

  “Quiet,” Hank finally spoke.

  “Fuck quiet. God! Why didn’t I get in my car and get the hell out of here when I had the chance?”

  “That’s a good question,” was Hank’s answer.

  That shut me up because I seriously didn’t want to go there.

  I buckled my seat belt and crossed my arms on my chest and tried to devise a plan.

  I was still in my skintight skirt and heels. I couldn’t run. I still had three cracked ribs. I couldn’t fight. I didn’t want to fight Hank anyway. Hell, I didn’t want to run either.

  What was I saying? I thought.

  Then I forced myself to stop thinking altogether.

  Before I knew it, he parked in front of his house. I sat in his 4Runner, arms still crossed, not moving, as he walked around the hood of the car.

  He opened the passenger side door, leaned in and unbuckled me, then pulled me out.

  He dragged me up his front walk.

  “I want to go back to Uncle Tex’s,” I said.

  “You’re not goin’ back to Tex,” he replied in his authoritative voice and opened the door.

  Before I could say anything else, Shamus was there and leaping all over Hank and me as Hank pulled me inside.

  “Hi fella, hey there boy,” I cooed, bending to give him a quick scratch behind the ears. I was pissed off at Hank for abducting me but I saw no reason to take it out on Shamus.

  It was a very quick scratch because Hank closed the door behind us, locked it, grabbed my hand again and then carried on dragging me, straight to the bedroom.

  That was when I started fighting, pulling at my hand in his

  “Hey! Where are you going? Let go of me!”

  He didn’t stop.

  “Hank, Goddammit!”

  He finally stopped once we’d reached the bedroom. He also let me go. He switched on the light by the bed and I turned to run but he caught me by the waist, somehow doing this gently, and pulled me around so I was pinned between him and the bed.

  Then he shrugged off his jacket and tugged off his henley.

  My eyes bugged out and I stared at his bared chest.

  Good God.

  “What are you –” I started to say but he interrupted me.

  “In deference to your ribs, you can be on top this time.”

  My mouth dropped open.

  Then my eyes went back in my head and they narrowed on him.

  “I don’t think so,” I snapped.

  He caught me at the hips, pulled me to him and kissed me.

  I did resist, I’m not that weak. It’s just that my resistance didn’t last long.

  When his mouth left mine to trail down my cheek to my neck I said, “You’re a jerk.”

  He moved away a bit, pulled my t-shirt free of my skirt, yanking it over my head, and dropping it on the floor.

  Then he looked into my eyes.

  My hammering heart thundered in a swell and then stuttered to a halt when I saw the look in his eyes. They were not distant or disinterested, they were something else, something I’d never seen on him, or anyone, before.

  “Yeah,” he agreed and his voice echoed the look in his eye. “I am.”

  Then he kissed me again.

  Needless to say, it went wild after that (what could I say, this was Hank).

  We were all over each other, hands, mouths, tongues. He pulled my skirt up, bunching it at my waist, turned us both around and sat down on the bed, his arms around me, taking me with him. He fell back, rolled me over carefully, then came away and yanked down my panties and tossed them aside. Then he bent low, spread my legs and his mouth went there.

  “Good God,” I breathed and I slid my hands into his hair.

  He took me to the edge. I was panting, pressing my hands in his hair and nearly there when he pulled away. Instantly, I came up, my hands went to his shoulders, pushing him back. I undid his buckle, unbuttoned his jeans, slid them only as low on his hips as was needed and climbed on top of him. I had my hand wrapped around him to guide him inside but his hands went to my hips, he bucked, ramming into me and my hand flew away from between us.

  My back arched when he filled me, I gasped and Hank kept bucking.

  It was Hank and my wild ride and it was far more satisfying.

  He didn’t make me do all the work, he was strong, his hips were powerful and I just held onto his shoulders and enjoyed the ride.

  It was delicious.

  When I came, his hands slid up my back, pressing me down, and he captured my moans in his mouth.

  A few minutes later, I returned the favor.

  Afterward, I had my face pressed into his neck and he spoke, his voice deep and hoarse, “Say my name.”

  I hesitated, not sure what he was asking. Did he think I didn’t know who he was? Did he think I imagined myself with Billy?

  “Hank,” I whispered, my heart in my throat.

  “That isn’t what you call me.”

  My stomach fluttered but I kept silent.

  His arms tightened around me and I felt his muscles clench as he sat up
, taking me with him. He settled on the edge of the bed, me still straddling him, my hands at his shoulders. I looked down at him and he was looking up at me. He didn’t take his arms from around me.

  “I talked to Eddie,” he said.

  “I figured that,” I told him.

  He dropped his head and kissed my throat, then kept his face there.

  “Christ, Roxie, I’m sorry,” he said against my throat.

  I closed my eyes and my arms tightened reflexively but I didn’t say anything. What was there to say? The last twenty minutes had been the best apology in the history of mankind.

  He tilted his head back again. “You need to call Tex and let him know you’re spendin’ the night with me.”

  I shook my head.

  I was glad he didn’t think I was some sad, lost woman in love with an abuser, but I also wasn’t ready to pick up again with Hank.

  “You need to take me back to Tex’s.”

  His eyes got lazy. “You aren’t goin’ back to Tex’s.”

  I stared at him and I figured he was right, mainly because behind the lazy in his eyes was the intense and I knew, to get what I was trying to tell myself I wanted, I’d have to fight. Since I didn’t really want it anyway, I wasn’t prepared to fight.

  He rolled me to the side and my head hit the pillow. He reached across me, grabbed his phone and handed it to me.

  I called Uncle Tex while Hank moved away and pulled up his jeans but didn’t button them. He then pulled down my skirt.

  “Yo!” Uncle Tex boomed in answer.

  “Hey, Uncle Tex. I’m with Hank.”

  I heard a chuckle. “Yeah, I saw that. These boys are the shit,” Uncle Tex replied.

  I sighed.

  “I’m not coming home tonight.”

  “Not surprised. Get Hank to bring you to Fortnum’s tomorrow, I’ll put a key under the mat if you need to come home.”

  “How’d it go with Mom?” I asked.

  “She and Herb are comin’ out in a few weeks.”

  Hank was up on an elbow, leaning over me and, I couldn’t help it, I smiled at him. His eyes went soft and his hand went to my neck. He stroked my jaw and I bit my lip.

  Silently, I shared my happiness and silently, he accepted it.

  I mentally shook myself out of the moment.

  “That’s good,” I said to Uncle Tex.

  “Gotta go, told Nancy I’d call her. She’s not gonna believe this, you and Hank, me calling Trish. Fuckin’ A. But things don’t stay borin’ around here for long.”

  “I love you, Uncle Tex,” I blurted, then closed my eyes, wondering if that was too much for him.

  There was silence, then, “Darlin’ girl.”

  That’s all he said before he disconnected.

  I opened my eyes and hit the off button on the phone. Hank took it from me and put it in its cradle. Then he looked at me. “Have you eaten?”

  I nodded.

  “Did you have dessert?”

  I shook my head.

  He knifed up, grabbed my hand and pulled me up after him.

  “Get dressed, let’s go.”

  * * * * *

  He took me to a place called Gunther Toody’s. A gimmick restaurant designed for family dining and to give the feel of a 50s style diner. Neon, chrome, vinyl and waitresses in white uniforms covered in slogan buttons wearing shocking red lipstick.

  Hank ordered a burger and cheese fries. I got a chocolate malt. The malt was the thickest, biggest, best malt I’d ever had in my life.

  I was staring out the window, sucking on the straw in my malt, trying to catch a thought. Everything had been happening too fast, I couldn’t keep up. I didn’t know what to do next, where to go, what to think.

  The only thing I did know was I needed to slow down, catch my breath, heal my body and get myself safe. I didn’t figure Hank was safe. Denver certainly wasn’t safe, at least not emotionally. Neither was Chicago, if I was honest.

  I felt Hank’s foot nudge mine, taking me away from my thoughts and I looked from the window to him.

  God, you’re handsome. I thought when my eyes settled on him.

  I sighed and realized I was still seriously in trouble.

  He was done with his food and his plate was pushed away. He was watching me.

  “There are things to say,” he told me.

  I supposed there were but I not only didn’t want to say any of them, I didn’t want to hear any of them either.

  I wasn’t going to get a choice.

  “You told me that you loved him,” Hank said.

  I blinked.

  “Loved, loved, deh, deh, deh,” I said. “Past tense.”

  Hank leaned forward and took my hand. “Sweetheart, I asked, ‘Do you love him?’ and you nodded, not past tense.”

  Oh.

  I remembered that.

  Shit.

  I leaned forward too. “I’d just been rescued from a crazy man and hadn’t slept in days. I was so tired, I didn’t know what I was saying or doing.”

  His hand squeezed mine. It was the only acknowledgement he gave that he understood and he was sorry but I knew he understood and he was sorry. A man like Hank probably didn’t apologize a lot and I’d already got one straight out from him that night.

  I looked back out the window.

  “I’m glad we got that straightened out,” I said to the window and I was. It would be good to have a clean break, leave things settled and good rather than ugly and bad.

  His hand gave mine a little tug and I looked back at him.

  “We’ll go back to where we left it. We’ll have to deal with Flynn when they find him, but you and I can go on from here.”

  I shook my head.

  “No, my friend Annette is bringing my stuff to Denver as we speak and as soon as I get it and my car, I’m going.”

  “Sunshine –”

  “No, Hank. There’s no going back. I’m not mad at you for thinking I’m an idiot, because, well, I am an idiot, I’m just not an idiot about that. It’s that… I have to get my life sorted out and that’s going to take awhile. You should… move on.”

  His eyes flashed dangerously.

  “Move on?” he said the words slowly.

  I nodded.

  “Yeah, it’s nice that we’ll end on a good note and not a misunderstanding,” I told him.

  “Roxie, we’re not ending.”

  “Yes, we are. You’re a good guy…” I stopped and realized that was just it. He was a good guy. I was a nut, my house had been trashed, my ex-lover was wanted in four states and still at large, God knew where, and the thing we were both skirting around was that I was tainted. He knew it. I knew it. Even if he knew I didn’t love Billy anymore, the fact that Hank would even think that let me know all I needed to know about what he thought of me.

  “It’s over,” I finished.

  “Sorry, wasn’t it you that I was fucking an hour ago?” he asked, his eyes narrowing.

  I scowled at him.

  “It isn’t over,” he said.

  My brows drew together. “It is. I’m leaving tomorrow.”

  He watched me for a second, then let go of my hand, pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, threw some bills on the table and got up, shoving his wallet back in his pocket. He pulled me out of the booth and, holding my hand, guided me to the door with a chin lift to our waitress before we went through it.

  Once we got outside, he dropped my hand and put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me into his side.

  Well. He was taking my ending things really well.

  Although I knew I should be relieved, it kinda pissed me off.

  At the 4Runner, he opened my door for me and I turned to him, deciding to keep things on a positive bent and be polite.

  “Thank you for understanding.”

  He looked down at me. “I don’t understand,” he said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Roxie, you aren’t going anywhere. I just have to convince you to stay.”
>
  I blinked at him.

  “I’m leaving tomorrow,” I said (again).

  He moved into my space, I moved back and he pinned me against the inside of the door.

  “Then, I gotta convince you before tomorrow.”

  “You won’t be able to do that. My mind is made up,” I told him, pressing on his chest with my hands to push him back.

  “A few days ago, you didn’t even want to have dinner with me. In less than twenty-four hours you were in my bed. I’ll be able to convince you.”

  Well! He was certainly sure of himself.

  Of course, what he said was true (all but the convincing me part) but still.

  “Take me back to Uncle Tex’s,” I demanded.

  He grinned.

  “You aren’t going to Tex’s. You’re comin’ home with me.”

  I made a huffy noise.

  So, I guessed this meant he wasn’t taking my ending things with him really well, in fact, he wasn’t taking it at all.

  Then, he kissed me.

  Then, still feeling dizzy, I went home with him.

  * * * * *

  I was on my back. Hank had lifted my legs at my knees so they were tucked into his sides. He was up on his elbows so his weight wasn’t on me. With my legs bent and his leverage, he was sliding deep inside me, deeper than anyone had ever been.

  I had my eyes closed, feeling him move, my arms wrapped tight around his back.

  I let him seduce me again (honestly, it didn’t take much) and was memorizing everything, the smell of him, the feel of him, the taste of him, the strength of him. I’d need to keep these memories for a long time.

  He pulled out and broke his rhythm, his body tense, I could feel him but he wasn’t coming inside.

  My eyes opened.

  “Hank?”

  His head dropped and in my ear he said, “Stay.”

  Holy cow.

  My entire body spasmed.

  “Don’t.”

  “Promise me you’ll stay,” he whispered.

  I moved, tightening my arms and wrapping my legs around his back.

  “Whisky –”

  When I used his nickname, he slid deep inside and kept going, finishing me off.

  * * * * *

  After we were done, he held me against his side and made me tell him what happened with Billy, from the minute he left for his run, to the minute he got into bed with me after I came back.

 

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