Rock Chick Redemption

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Rock Chick Redemption Page 23

by Kristen Ashley


  My plan was simple. I was going to ride the wave, get safe and not cause any (more) trouble and then I was getting the fuck out of Dodge.

  I knew I’d lost my heart, it was too late to protect that, but I wasn’t going to give it time. I wasn’t going to be there when the warm, soft look in Hank’s whisky eyes turned cold.

  I came out of my thoughts and re-entered the phone conversation. “Annette –” I started to say in protest.

  “No talking me out of it. Jason and I are both agreed. Anyway, we really like your friends.”

  I looked at Hank. “They aren’t my friends, they’re Hank’s.”

  “They’re everyone’s friends,” Annette declared as I watched Hank’s eyes flicker with controlled frustration. Annette went on. “We’re coming down the mountain now, then we’ll shower and get some food. We’re supposed to meet at Ally’s at eight thirty. See you there.”

  Then she disconnected.

  I flipped the phone shut.

  “Annette’s thinking of moving to Denver,” I told him.

  Hank’s hand came to my knee, his eyes registered approval. “That’ll be good.”

  I bit my lip.

  Hank watched my mouth.

  “Shit,” Hank said.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I don’t like your look,” he said.

  “What look?” I asked.

  He leaned into me and his hand slid up my thigh to rest at the side of my hip.

  “Rewind,” he said, his face close to mine. “Let’s go back to the Roxie of fifteen minutes ago. The sweet one who didn’t argue and did what she was told. I like her.”

  Well!

  “That isn’t the Real Roxie. The Real Roxie argues and never does what she’s told and is a pain in the ass. This Roxie is Freaked-Out Life-in-Danger Roxie. You don’t like the Real Roxie, then give me back my car and I’ll go home to Chicago,” I told him.

  His eyes went lazy. “I like Real Roxie too.”

  My eyes narrowed.

  He grinned.

  Then, he went on. “I was just enjoyin’ the sweet one.”

  Then he took my hand, lifted it and pressed my middle finger to his lower lip reminding me what I’d done in the safe room and showing me how he felt about it. I held my breath as his mouth opened and his tongue touched my finger.

  “Good God,” I whispered, staring at his mouth and completely forgetting about my snit.

  “Black bean dip,” the bartender announced, oblivious to the public foreplay, pulling us out of the moment and putting a bowl of dip and some corn chips in between our beers.

  My eyes slid to the side and I saw a table of three women. All three were staring at us openly. Or more to the point, staring at Hank. Their faces all showed identical expressions of sweltering hot lust to the point of being openly carnal.

  I yanked my hand away from Hank’s and reached for a chip while I collected myself. I heard Hank’s soft chuckle before he took a pull of his beer.

  Fucking Hank.

  My phone rang again, I grabbed it as I dipped in the chip and flipped it open. “Hello?”

  “Hey girl,” Ally said. “Where are you?”

  “I’m at Reiver’s with Hank,” I said.

  “Excellent! We were all going out to get some food, too late for you two. How about Annette and Jason?”

  “I’m sure they’d like to go,” then I gave her Annette’s number.

  “Cool. I’ll call. Listen, tell Hank not to worry. I know he’s got to work tonight. Tell him Carl is going to be there and so is Jason. We’ve got enough stun guns to go around and Daisy’s bringing a bodyguard.”

  My body went still.

  “Stun guns?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” she answered, as if they were accessories akin to a handbag or a belt.

  “Bodyguard?” I stayed on target.

  She laughed. “Just saying, you’re covered. See you at eight thirty. Wear something warm and gym shoes. Gotta be prepared to run. Later.”

  “Run?” I said into the dead phone.

  I sat there a second and then flipped the phone shut and slid it on the bar.

  Hank was watching me.

  I put the loaded chip into my mouth.

  I chewed.

  My eyes widened and I think I had a mini-culinary-orgasm.

  After I swallowed, I breathed. “This stuff is great,” then I dipped in another chip.

  Hank’s hand caught my wrist with the chip halfway to my mouth, my mouth all the way open to receive the chip. My eyes moved to him.

  “Stun guns? Bodyguards?” he asked.

  I closed my mouth and told him what Ally told me.

  He let go of my wrist and sat back. His elbow went to the bar and his hand went to take a swipe at his forehead. “Christ,” he muttered.

  I ate my chip and ignored him. Then I ate another one.

  He looked at me. “You wouldn’t feel like going back to Sweet Agreeable Roxie for a while, going to the station with me tonight, hanging out while I work?”

  That sounded about as fun as sitting in the control room. I wasn’t all-fired sure about this haunted house business but I wasn’t going to hang out watching my nails grow at the station while Hank worked.

  I shook my head.

  “Fuck,” he said.

  “We need to go back to your place,” I told him. “I have to change clothes. Which reminds me, I need to call Vance.”

  Hank did a slow blink. “Why do you need to call Vance?”

  “He bought me some clothes and some Keds. Ally mentioned I need to wear gym shoes and the only ones I own are the ones Vance bought me. I need to pay him back.”

  “I’ll pay him back,” Hank answered immediately.

  I dipped another chip. “No, I’ll pay him back. Do you have him programmed into your phone?”

  I put the chip into my mouth and held out my hand for his phone.

  “You aren’t callin’ Vance,” he said, taking his own chip.

  “Why not?”

  He chewed and swallowed. “Because you aren’t.”

  I stared at him, thinking I was beginning to get angry. “Why not?”

  “Because I don’t like the idea of you talkin’ to Vance.”

  Okay, I was definitely beginning to get angry. “Why not?” I repeated.

  “Vance is a player and he’s playin’ you.”

  It was my turn to blink. “I don’t think so,” I said.

  “He is.”

  “He is not.”

  “For Christ’s sake, Roxie,” he said and I could tell he was beginning to get angry too.

  “Don’t ‘for Christ’s sake’ me, Hank Nightingale. Vance is not playing me.”

  “What was happening at Lincoln’s then?”

  “Lincoln’s?”

  “When he was holdin’ your hand.”

  Oh.

  That.

  “We were having a moment.”

  Hank’s control slipped and his eyes went hard.

  I watched, scared and fascinated at the same time.

  “And when he was touchin’ your ear?” he asked.

  Mmm, there was that too.

  “We were having another moment,” I answered.

  Hank’s control slipped more and his entire face went hard. Then he looked to the bartender as he slid off the barstool

  “Watch this,” he ordered the bartender, motioning with his head to our stuff on the bar. My purse and phone were sitting there as was our food.

  The bartender looked at the gun and badge on Hank’s belt and nodded.

  Then Hank grabbed my hand and pulled me off the barstool.

  “Hey!” I snapped but he dragged me out, around the corner and down the side of the building. All the while I tried to pull free. All the while I failed.

  Then he pushed me up against the side of the building and I saw I was wrong about Hank’s control slipping. One look at him and I realized Hank’s control was gone.

  Any smart girl would have kept her mouth s
hut. I was not a smart girl. It was an established fact, especially recently, that I was an idiot.

  “I cannot believe you just dragged me out of the restaurant,” I hissed.

  Hank got close. “Remember when I told you that you bein’ my woman meant I protected you and kept you safe?”

  “Yes,” I was still hissing.

  “Well, this time, that comes in the form of me tellin’ you what to do and what you’re not gonna do is talk to, or see, Vance again.”

  Holy Mary, Mother of God.

  I was no longer beginning to get angry. I was pissed the hell off.

  “You did not just say that to me.”

  “I sure the fuck did.”

  “Take it back!” my voice was rising.

  He got closer. One of his hands was at the bricks at the side of my head, the other one was at his hip, his chest was nearly against mine and his head was tilted to look down at me.

  “Vance means something to me,” I told him.

  Um… not the right thing to say.

  “You barely know him,” he said.

  “I barely know you,” I retorted angrily.

  Strike two. Definitely not the right thing to say.

  “I’ve had my cock inside you. I’d say you know me a fuck of a lot better than you know Vance.”

  At that nasty comment, I put my hands to his abs and pushed hard. His body jerked but moved back into my space instantly.

  “Don’t be coarse,” I clipped.

  “Roxanne –”

  “He rescued me from the sink! He took me to the hospital! He got me clothes when I had to get rid of the ones I was wearing because I couldn’t bear to keep them on a second longer. He got me a shower because I hadn’t had one in days.”

  “Roxanne –”

  “No, Hank –”

  “Roxanne, be quiet.”

  “No!”

  His hand went from his hip to cup my jaw and his face dipped so close; it was all I could see. “Don’t you think I wanted to be the one to rescue you from that fucking sink?” he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

  My stomach clenched as I realized what had brought on his anger.

  I stared at him and finally kept my mouth shut.

  “Do you have any fucking clue how hard it was to wait for Vance to call in witness reports, every fuckin’ report worse than the one before? You runnin’ from a bathroom at a gas station, bloody, screamin’ and fightin’ to get away. Tied to a steering wheel. Eatin’ fuckin’ chips with your wrists bound. Christ!”

  The last word was an explosion. I winced and jerked as if it had a physical impact on my body.

  He pulled back and took his hand away from my face but I grabbed it and tugged on it.

  “Hank, listen to me,” he was looking at the wall over my shoulder, trying to regain control. When I said his name, his eyes moved to lock on mine and I felt a shiver run through me at the anger still there.

  I went on. “After he found me, I asked Vance to take me back to Chicago.”

  At that, Hank’s eyes flared.

  I shook my head and continued. “He wouldn’t do it. He said he wouldn’t do it because he respected you and you’d sent him after me. He said he wouldn’t do it because he didn’t want to make you show him how you’d react if he didn’t bring me back to you.”

  I watched him work to get control, a muscle moved in his jaw. All the while, he kept his beautiful eyes on me.

  I felt the burning in my nostrils and took a deep breath to keep the tears at bay.

  When I saw he had control, I whispered, “I’m glad it wasn’t you who found me. I couldn’t have… I wouldn’t have been able to live with it if you saw me that way.”

  At that, his arms slid around me.

  “Fuck, Roxie,” he said over my head.

  I put my arms around him and sucked back more tears.

  I hated it. I hated it with everything I was, but I was so right. This Billy business was going to be between Hank and me forever. I felt anger shoot through my body and if Billy had walked up just then, I would have ripped his head off.

  It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fucking fair. I hated people who whined about what wasn’t fair but if anything wasn’t fair, this sure the hell wasn’t.

  A fair life would have brought Hank to me without anything between us.

  I took a broken breath, the tears still threatening. I closed my eyes and pressed my cheek against Hank’s shoulder and I prayed. I prayed for this all to be over soon so I could go, so I could pick up the pieces of my life.

  I prayed for Hank too, so he could move on and find someone he deserved, someone strong and smart and good. Someone he could talk to about his day. Someone who made him grin. Someone who liked his dog. Someone who put mulberry-scented candles in his house. Someone who had powdered sugar in the cupboard and cream cheese in the fridge so she could make him better French toast than I’d made; the special kind with the sweetened cream cheese spread in the middle.

  Someone who didn’t get shot at.

  Someone who didn’t get kidnapped.

  Someone who didn’t make him put his fist through a wall.

  Someone who hadn’t spent nearly seven years of their life sleeping with a criminal.

  Someone better than me.

  Hank pulled slightly away but kept his arms around me.

  I looked up at him, pushed my prayers deep down, where he couldn’t see, and I smiled at him.

  “Can I call Vance now?” I asked.

  “I’m payin’ him back,” Hank answered.

  I sighed.

  “Stubborn,” I grumbled, giving in.

  A hint of a smile came into his eyes and he rested his forehead against mine. “Sunshine?” he called.

  “Yeah?”

  “Whatever I saw you thinkin’ just now…”

  Shit.

  I hadn’t hidden it fast enough.

  I held my breath.

  “Get it out of your fuckin’ head.”

  “Hank.”

  “Promise me.”

  “Hank!”

  “Roxanne,” he used his authoritative voice.

  “So. What? Now you’re gonna tell me what to think?” I asked, pulling my head back and taking my hands from around him and putting them on my hips.

  He shook his head.

  “You just said –” I started.

  “Okay, think whatever you want.”

  “Well, thank you,” I said, uppity.

  He grinned.

  His mouth came to mine. “But consider yourself warned. Your mind wanders down that path again, I’ll be forced to turn it to other things.”

  Before I could respond, he showed me what he meant.

  He kissed me, deep.

  My brains scrambled and then I wasn’t thinking anything at all.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Frightmare”

  Hank took me to his place and I changed my shoes. Then I rooted through his drawers and pulled out a University of Colorado sweatshirt and I switched out of my lush cardigan into the sweatshirt.

  “I’m confiscating this,” I told him when I walked into the kitchen.

  His was leaning, hips against the counter, writing notes one-handed on a pad that was sitting on the counter to his right. He looked at me and then his eyes dropped to the sweatshirt, which was so big it was almost a dress.

  Then they got lazy. “Come here,” he said low.

  “No, we have to go. I’m gonna be late.”

  “Come here,” he repeated.

  “No! You have to get to work.”

  “You can come here or…” he started.

  I knew where this was going.

  “Oh, all right,” I gave in.

  I went to him.

  He kissed me dizzy, it got heated, there was some groping and we went to Ally’s late.

  * * * * *

  We walked into Ally’s and nearly everyone was there but Daisy.

  “Yo Bitch!” Annette yelled at me. “Yo dude!” sh
e yelled at Hank.

  Hank smiled at her.

  She gawked at him, momentarily stunned by his smile and then turned to me and nodded her head slowly. “Nice,” she drawled.

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Like the sweatshirt,” Ally said, leaning back and taking me in and then she introduced me to her boyfriend, Carl. He was good-looking; tall, blond, blue-eyed and grinning at Hank. A knowing grin that made me feel slightly bothered but, weirdly, in a good way.

  “We need to talk,” Hank said to him.

  “I figured that,” Carl said back.

  Hank leaned down and wrapped an arm around my waist sideways. I looked up at him and he gave me a light kiss. “Have fun,” he said against my mouth.

  Then he and Carl walked out the front door.

  “What’s that all about?” I asked, watching the closed door as if I had x-ray vision and could see through it.

  “That’s Hank telling Carl he’ll make him into an instant girl if anything happens to you,” Ally said.

  “Good God,” I murmured.

  “Don’t worry. Nothing’s gonna happen to you,” Indy said.

  The door opened and Daisy arrived.

  Or, I should say Daisy arrived.

  She was wearing a skintight, faded denim jumpsuit; the crotch to bosom zipper unzipped to maximum cleavage potential, rhinestones adorning the outer sides of her legs, up her hips, waist, sides, and down the inside of the sleeves. She was wearing matching platform, high-heeled, faded denim boots, heavily encrusted with rhinestones. She had a pink chiffon scarf tied around her neck and her platinum blonde hair was teased out to peak volume.

  “Yo Bitch!” Annette yelled, completely oblivious to the fact that Daisy looked like she was about to step on stage in Vegas.

  “Yo, Sugar,” Daisy replied.

  “I thought I told you to wear gym shoes,” Ally said, peeved that her Haunted House instructions were not carried out to the letter.

  “I don’t do gym shoes, comprende?” Daisy told her, giving her a squinty look.

  Yowza.

  “It’s your funeral,” Ally shot back, totally unaffected by the squinty look.

  Holy cow.

  Then Daisy’s eyes came to me. “Honey bunches of oats,” she said, “your man is outside having an extreme conversation with her man.” A toss of her head indicated Ally.

  “I know,” I told her.

  She nodded and looked around. “All right then, who brought the stun guns?”

 

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