He walked up to me. I noticed his eyes were lazy and I held my breath. His hand came to the side of my neck and he gave me a light kiss.
Then he was gone.
I took off my jacket under which I was wearing a pair of jeans and my lilac nightie. I took off my shoes, the jeans, turned off the light and got into the bed. Shamus got in with me, walked around on the bed for awhile, getting the lay of the land, settled on his side, his back pressed to my side and we both fell asleep.
* * * * *
Shamus jerked and jumped off the bed. I rolled over to see what he was up to but he was already halfway across the room.
I looked toward the doorway and a man was standing there.
For a second, I stared at him, confused, because I didn’t know what was going on.
Then I remembered.
Even so, I continued to stare at the man.
It didn’t take much to know this was another one of Lee’s boys. Not Big Truck Dude, this guy was tall but lean, wearing black cargo pants, a black, skintight t-shirt and black boots. He had black hair, cut close and the absolute best facial hair I’d ever seen on a guy in my life. A thick, black mustache that grew across his lip and down the sides of his mouth, shaved clean and precise. He looked like Harley Man morphed with Just Plain Hot Man.
“Hey,” I said to him.
One side of his mouth went up in a sexy half-grin.
Good God.
“Dog wants out. Hank’s delayed. Go back to sleep.”
I nodded, stunned silent at the amount of information he was able to share using the fewest words possible.
He stepped aside, Shamus walked through the door, tail wagging, and he closed it.
I laid there for a second, thinking there was no way in hell I was going to get back to sleep.
Then I went back to sleep.
* * * * *
I woke up, again felt confused, again realized what was happening and I got out of bed.
I tried the inner door and found it was a bathroom. I hauled my shit into it, did my mega-morning-preparations (even though I forgot my body wash, I found an unopened bar of Irish Spring under the sink and I forgot my hair-smoothing lotion so I had to make do with just my finishing wax). I hadn’t done half bad with my outfit, considering I was half asleep. Rich forest green, low rider corduroys, oatmeal, shawl-necked cashmere cardigan that I wore without a shell, belted at the waist with a wide chocolate suede belt and matching suede flats.
Once I was done, I walked through the other room to the door, needing coffee, needing food, needing to check on Shamus and needing to know where Hank was.
I tried to open the door, gave it a yank, my hand slipped off the handle and the door didn’t move.
I stared at it and tried again.
The handle didn’t twist and the door still didn’t move.
I was locked in.
I felt panic edge through me.
“What the fuck?” I whispered.
Then I heard a disembodied, “Roxie.”
I looked around searching for the source of the sound.
It came back.
“This is the control room. Hang tight. We’re bringin’ someone in.”
“What?” I asked, feeling stupid, talking to the room.
“We’re bringin’ someone in to the holding room. We need you to hang tight. Once he’s secured, we’ll come and get you.”
“Holy cow,” I whispered. Then I panicked.
“It’s not –” I started to say.
“It isn’t Flynn,” the voice interrupted me.
I let out a deep breath. Then I took in a sharp one, realizing he knew why I was panicked.
Okay, whatever, it’s not like my life being certifiably fucked is a secret. I thought.
I sat on the arm of the reclining chair and listened to see if I could hear them bringing in whoever.
I couldn’t.
Then the door opened and Just Plain Hot Guy was standing there.
I got up.
“Hey again,” I said.
He did one of his half-grins.
“Hungry?” he asked.
I nodded.
He stepped sideways and did a sweeping gesture of his arm, telling me to precede him.
Man of few words.
I walked out, he fell into step beside me and we walked down the hall.
“I’m Roxie,” I said.
“I know,” he replied.
Well, there you go.
“And you are…?” I prompted.
He looked at me. His eyes were dark but I noticed they were also blue. Indigo.
Good God.
“Luke,” he said.
“Nice to meet you Luke.”
He did another half-grin.
I tripped.
It turned into a full grin.
Shit, shit, shit.
We made it to the end of the hall. At the door, he stopped and put his hand on the handle.
“Our receptionist will go out and get you some food. Whatever you want.”
I nodded, thinking that was nice; visions of Aunt Bea from “The Andy Griffith Show” tumbling through my head. He opened the door and I walked through and stopped dead.
The woman sitting behind the gleaming reception desk was as far away from Aunt Bea as you could get. She looked like she’d just walked off a runway, high cheekbones, shiny blonde hair, ten pounds underweight; absolutely beautiful.
“Hi, I’m Dawn,” she said brightly when she saw me; a smile on her face that I noticed didn’t reach her eyes. She did a full body scan and then her smile turned smug.
Bitch. I thought.
“Hi. I’m Roxie,” I said.
“I know,” she said this like it was a joke.
“Breakfast,” Luke cut in, clearly having other things to do and those did not include common niceties like introductions or hanging around listening to Dawn being a bitch.
“Um…” I was feeling funny about giving her my order.
“Coffee?” Luke cued me.
“Yes… a skinny caramel latte?” I asked, unsure.
His eyes moved to Dawn and so did mine. She’d lost her smug smile and looked peeved. It was pretty clear she didn’t feel like running out to get me a caramel latte.
“What else?” Luke asked, looking back to me.
“I don’t know. A scone, a muffin… something like that,” I felt tremendous pressure. Perhaps I should order plain fruit and unsweetened granola and ask them where I could do my morning yoga (though I didn’t practice yoga).
“Got that?” Luke asked Dawn, he was done and it was time to move on.
She nodded, grabbed her purse out of the drawer and skedaddled, walking like she was on a catwalk, one foot in front of the other, her ass swaying under the skirt of her expensive, tailored suit.
Bitch. I thought again, watching her go.
“No comparison,” Luke said after the door closed behind Dawn and I turned to him.
“Excuse me?”
“Dawn’s a man eater. You’re not. No comparison,” Luke answered and I didn’t know how to take that.
“Is that good?”
The half-smile came back.
“Most men prefer to do the eating.”
Holy fucking cow.
“Uncle Tex told me you were shot,” I blurted out, desperate to get off the subject of Just Plain Hot Guys eating anything.
“Yeah,” he replied.
“How’re you feeling?” I asked, although it was a stupid question. He looked healthy and fit, very healthy and fit.
“Alive,” he answered.
That kind of said it all.
“Well, I’m glad for that,” I told him because I couldn’t think of anything better to say.
Before he could answer (not that he was going to answer), the door opened.
I turned and saw Lee and Marcus come in.
“Oh shit,” I muttered before I could stop myself.
Luke got close, I could feel his heat against my back.
I stood stock-still.
Marcus’s eyes settled on me.
“Roxie,” Lee said, walked to me and bent to kiss my cheek.
Wow.
A cheek kiss from Lee.
It was a multiple “holy cow” day for sure.
“Hi Lee,” I whispered.
Lee’s eyes moved to Luke, crinkled at the corners to show his amusement, just like his Dad’s, and he stepped aside.
“Did you meet Marcus yesterday?” Lee asked, his eyes moving to me.
I shook my head.
“Marcus, this is Roxanne Logan,” Lee introduced us.
Marcus put out his hand and I took it.
Before he could say anything, I said quickly, “I’m so sorry I got Daisy shot at. I like Daisy. She’s been really nice to me. She’s wise and she’s funny and she has interesting taste in clothes.” Marcus looked at me and didn’t say anything so, of course, I carried on like the idiot I was. “And I’m sorry about her Mercedes getting bullet holes in it. It wasn’t her fault. She’s a good driver. I mean, she kept her cool, kind of, except when we were playing chicken and… um… other times.”
Oh my God, someone had to stop me from talking.
I went on. “And if she ever gets shot at again, I’m sure she’ll probably get away.”
Luke’s hand settled at the back of my neck.
I shut up.
The hand stayed there.
“Daisy tells me you’ve had it rough,” Marcus said.
I nodded. Luke’s hand tightened.
Marcus stared at me and a shiver slid across my skin. He was handsome, that was certain, but there was a hardness behind his eyes that was chilling.
“Your troubles are over,” he said with a finality that caused the shiver to go into a full body tremble.
I blinked at him.
“Let’s go to my office,” Lee cut in, his eyes were now serious and they were on Luke.
Marcus still had hold of my hand. He gave it a firm squeeze that felt like a promise. Then he let go. Lee touched my shoulder and they walked out of the room.
Luke’s hand came away from my neck and I turned to him.
“What just happened?” I asked him.
“Marcus entered the picture,” Luke answered.
“What?”
“Three things,” Luke said immediately, surprising me. I wasn’t sure he could enumerate three things in Luke Speak. He went on, proving he could. “One, the police can track down your trouble, that trouble is put away and it’s over. Two, we can do it, your trouble is taken to the holding room, taught a lesson, then handed to the police and it’s over. Three, Marcus can do it, that trouble is dead. I’m hopin’ for number two.”
I focused on number three.
“Dead as in, not-breathing-anymore dead?” I asked.
“That’s the only kind of dead there is,” he replied.
“Holy cow,” I said.
He stared at me.
“Why?” I asked.
Luke didn’t answer but I knew why. Marcus didn’t blame me for what happened to Daisy. He blamed Billy and whoever else was involved in this mess. I’d seen Marcus holding Daisy the day before. Whatever he was, criminal kingpin, gun dealer, pimp, he loved Daisy. Someone put her life in danger and that someone was going to pay.
“Maybe I should talk to him,” I suggested to Luke.
The half-grin came back.
“Although that would be entertaining, it’s not gonna happen.”
“Why not? Maybe I can persuade –”
“Roxie,” he interrupted me.
“Yeah?”
“Be quiet.”
I stared at him and then heaved a big sigh.
Being quiet might be a good thing.
He put a hand to the small of my back, propelled me toward the hallway door and then took me to the control room and Shamus.
* * * * *
“This is cool!” I shouted when I entered the control room.
Shamus ran to me and jumped up on me, his body aquiver with excitement. I just avoided him cracking three more ribs, gave his head a good rub and then gently pushed him off. He sat on my feet, tongue lolling.
“Hi, I’m Monty,” a man with a blond military cut stood and smiled at me, offering his hand. I took it, we did a shake and I tried not to wince when nearly all my bones were crushed.
Monty was slightly older than most of Lee’s boys but no less fit. He was also slightly more in tune with social nuances, like saying hello.
“What is all this stuff?” I asked, looking at all the monitors on shelves on the wall, DVD recorders under them, knobs, buttons and racks of electronic equipment. It looked like they could strap me in and we could go to Mars.
“This is the surveillance room. We run security through here and… other things.”
I looked at the monitors.
I gawked at the monitors.
“Hey! That’s Fortnum’s! And so’s that… and that… and…” I trailed off.
Dear God, they had nearly every corner, the front and back of Fortnum’s monitored. I watched Uncle Tex banging away at the espresso machine at the same time he seemed to be carrying on an argument with Duke.
Monty flipped a switch and Uncle Tex’s voice boomed into the room.
“I don’t want to listen to no fuckin’ Hank Williams, Jr.! You got Johnny Cash, I’ll listen to Johnny Cash. If not, put Cream back on, Turkey!”
Monty flipped off the switch.
“Holy cow,” I breathed.
“We monitor Fortnum’s twenty four seven,” Monty said.
“Best part of the day surveillance shift,” Luke put in.
I tried to think of the time I’d spent in Fortnum’s. Almost none of it had gone without some embarrassing incident.
I looked at Monty and Luke. Luke was wearing his half-grin. Monty was smiling flat out.
“Shit,” I said.
“Have a seat,” Monty told me, the smile still playing about his face. “You can eat your breakfast in here. I’ll show you what we do.”
“Where’s Hank?” I asked, sitting next to Monty, looking back to the monitors. Shamus moved to settle at my feet.
“Hank’s indefinitely delayed,” Monty replied, but I wasn’t listening. One of the monitors showed a visual of the room I’d slept in.
I turned in horror to Monty.
“Did you watch me sleep?” I asked.
He nodded. “Hank’s orders. Constant surveillance. If we aren’t with you, we’re watching you.”
“But… I was just down the hall,” I said, mortified that they had watched me sleep and I hoped I hadn’t drooled.
“One thing I’ve learned, you can never be too careful,” Monty replied.
Okay, so, maybe he was right about that.
Monty took my mind off the alarming news that they had watched me sleep and told me what they did in the control room; some security, mostly investigation. Then Dawn showed with my latte and a blueberry muffin. The latte was cold and had hazelnut syrup in it. The muffin was crap. I didn’t say a word and ate the muffin while we listened to the police band radio and Monty taught me some of the codes.
Then he turned down the police band, I sipped my latte and we watched the monitors.
About half an hour later, I was losing the will to live and the control room had lost its coolness. How could these guys do this day in and day out? It was stupendously boring.
The phone rang.
“Thank God!” I yelled before I could stop myself. I was happy that something, anything was happening. I didn’t care if it was the dry cleaners calling to say Monty’s shirts were ready to be picked up.
Monty shot me a grin then looked at Luke while he reached for the phone. “These girls like their excitement.”
“Thank fuck,” Luke muttered his reply.
I didn’t know what that meant but I suspected, at least, that it was good.
“Yeah?” Monty said in the phone. Then he said, “She’s right here.”
He turned to me.
“Hank.”
I took the phone and put it to my ear.
“Hey,” I said, dipping my head and feeling weird in that little room with Monty and Luke having nothing to do but listen.
“How’re you doin’?” Hank asked and I felt a thrill race through me at the sound of his voice.
“Monty and Luke and I are hanging in the control room.”
Silence.
“Hank?”
“I thought you’d watch a DVD or something.”
“No, they’re teaching me police codes.”
More silence.
“Dawn brought me a latte and muffin. Luke said I could have whatever I want so she ran out to get it for me,” I said this because I didn’t have anything more exciting to say.
“Bet Dawn liked doing that,” Hank said, apparently knowing Dawn.
“She didn’t seem tickled pink,” I told him.
I heard Hank’s soft laugh and another thrill raced through me.
“I’m gonna be awhile. You gonna be okay?” he asked.
“Sure,” I said.
“I’ll be there to get you as soon as I can.”
“Okay.”
Silence for a beat, and then, “Am I talkin’ to Roxanne Logan?” he asked.
“Well… yeah. What’s the matter?”
Another beat of silence. “Nothin’, sweetheart. I’ll see you soon.”
I got my third thrill and then he disconnected.
I handed the phone to Monty, he replaced it into the receiver and then he touched a button and said, “Brody, come to the control room.” Then he settled back in his chair.
“Who’s Brody?” I asked.
“Our computer guy. You can go with him for a while. Change of scenery.”
I gave him a relieved smile.
There was a knock on the door and Luke got up and opened it.
A man walked in, wearing black jeans, his dark hair needed a cut and he was head-to-toe in disarray. He wore Buddy Holly glasses and his body was absolutely not the normal lean muscle of one of Lee’s boys. His black t-shirt said in white lettering, “I upped mine, up yours!”
“Jeez. This is Roxie. Wow. I’ve wanted to meet you, like, for days!” he shouted when he saw me.
“Hi,” I said, surprised at his reaction to me.
“You’re like, famous. It was crazy around here when you were kidnapped. Everybody was running around, the phones ringing off the hook, Dawn was in, like, a total snit, worse than usual. I was running every computer check possible. Hotel registrations, airlines, credit cards. Lee paid me a bucketload of overtime. Every time Vance reported in that someone had seen you at a gas station or whatever, the whole place went wired. When Vance called in that someone saw you tied to a steering wheel, Hank was so pissed off, he put his fist through the wall in the down room. I saw it. It was insane.”
Rock Chick Redemption Page 21
