Rock Chick Redemption

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Rock Chick Redemption Page 28

by Kristen Ashley


  Smithie turned to her. “You don’t need fuckin’ amateur night, woman, you need to know how to fuckin’ move. You know how to move?”

  Jason was looking pale.

  “I know how to move,” Annette answered.

  “You’ll be drivin’ a Porsche in a month.”

  “I don’t want a Porsche. I want a condo in Breckenridge.”

  “For that you gotta do lap dances,” Smithie said.

  Jason started to look sick.

  “I’m not sure I want to do lap dances,” Annette said.

  “Suit your-fuckin’-self. You wanna just dance, fuckin’ come in tomorrow. We’ll get you set the fuck up!”

  I didn’t know Smithie, like at all, but even I could tell he was excited.

  I tugged on Luke’s arm and he looked down at me.

  “Do something,” I hissed.

  “What?”

  “I don’t know. Something. Jason looks like he’s going to be sick.”

  “Not my problem.”

  “This is cool!” Annette yelled.

  “Good God,” I muttered, momentarily forgetting myself and resting my forehead on Luke’s shoulder.

  “Babe,” Luke said low.

  My head jerked up.

  Shit.

  I stepped away from him.

  “Good idea,” he mumbled.

  I turned to the table and announced, “I need a drink.”

  “Get over here and sit next to Shirleen, girl,” the black woman said to me and I walked over and sat down, throwing my wrap on the back of the chair and my purse on the table.

  Luke followed and stood behind me.

  “Someone get this girl a drink. What you drinkin’? I got me an appletini. You ever have an appletini? So smooth, get you fucked up before you can blink.”

  “An appletini sounds good,” I agreed. Fucked up sounded even better.

  She started snapping her fingers and, as if by magic, a waitress arrived. The waitress was wearing a cute, black camisole with “Smithie’s” written across the front in fancy, red script, a tiny red mini skirt and a pair of kickass black strappy sandals. The outfit was the shit.

  “Get my girl an appletini, me too.” Shirleen ordered then swung her big ‘fro back to me. Then she said, totally nosy but somehow getting away with it. “Jet’s been tellin’ me you got man trouble.”

  “You could say that.”

  “Tell Shirleen all about it.”

  “Which man are we talking about? The scary ex-boyfriend who won’t let me go? The bad guys I don’t know who might accidentally shoot me? Or the good man I have that I’m afraid to lose?”

  Shirleen stared at me. “How many men you got, girl?”

  “Just those,” I said. I looked up at Luke then back to Shirleen. “So far.”

  “Well, then, we got all night, unless you’re really here for the show.”

  I shook my head. “I’m just here for Jet.”

  “Start talkin’,” Shirleen demanded.

  So, I did.

  * * * * *

  Three appletinis later, I was definitely feeling loose.

  Jet had talked Lottie out of her nerves. Tod had talked me into letting him try on my shoes (they fit). We all spent a lot of time talking about which song he should sing in his drag show while wearing my shoes. No one was able to talk Annette out of dancing. Uncle Tex decided he was talking to me again (but just barely). And Shirleen had sorted out all my problems by telling me she’d known Hank since he was a little boy (what? were there only, like, two dozen people who lived in Denver?) and if I let him go I needed to have my head examined (whatever).

  The place was wired. Brody would have been beside himself. The longer we waited for Lottie to dance, the more the anticipatory vibe grew until the air was electric.

  Then the lights went low.

  Smithie took the stage.

  “Gentlemen… fuck…” he looked at us. “And ladies. I give you Lottie Mac!”

  A roar tore through the massive crowd.

  Holy cow. If I was Lottie, I’d have had cold feet too.

  The lights went out, I heard Smithie mutter another “fuck” while he tried to get off the stage in the dark. Then the lights went on and Jet’s sister was there.

  She was as pretty as Jet, bigger boobs, more makeup and a body to-die-for. She wore a killer gold bikini, heavily embellished with beading and sequins that I’d sell my firstborn child just to touch and a pair of strappy, gold sandals that she danced in like she was in bare feet.

  And she could dance.

  To say the girl could move was an understatement of tremendous proportions. She worked her body, she worked the stage, she worked the poles and she worked the crowd. Not like this was her first night on the stage dancing, but like she’d invented it.

  A hush came over the crowd, total, reverent silence throughout the first song.

  When the first song segued into the second, the crowd came out of its stupor. They all started to cheer, to chant, to undulate.

  Everyone at our tables was right along with them. My hands were over my head, I was shouting, “Woo hoo!” and “You go girl!” After Lottie executed an upside-down pole slide with one leg up in the air and one leg wrapped around the pole, Shirleen and I turned to each other and did a high five, such was our excitement for the beauty of the overall sisterhood.

  Lottie was the master; she worked it until the final notes of the song. Then, she stood stock-still, reached behind her back and tore off her bra. You got a nanosecond of a glimpse of her magnificent breasts then the lights went out.

  When they came back on, the regular girls were there and Lottie was gone.

  The crowd went wild. Everyone sitting surged to their feet and screamed, including me.

  I barely got my ass back on the chair when I felt something at my ear and I heard Luke say, “Let’s go.”

  I turned to him and he was right in my face.

  “Did you see that? That was great!” I yelled. “I want to dance. I want a bikini like that. She’s my hero!”

  The crowd was still roaring, chanting, clapping, begging for Lottie to come back. I could barely hear, they were so loud.

  Luke’s fingers curled around my arm. “Let’s go,” he repeated.

  “But… I’m having a good time,” I said.

  He pulled me out of the chair. “This place isn’t safe. We’re going.”

  “Luke.”

  He pulled me close, probably so I could hear, the roar was still deafening. They were chanting Lottie’s name and had begun stomping their feet.

  I looked at Luke and there was no sexy half-grin or flirty look in his eyes. His face was serious. “You want to answer to me, you keep this shit up. Now, we’re going.”

  I gulped, nodded, grabbed my bag and wrap and moved to walk away.

  That’s when I felt it. The crowd wasn’t only wild, they were wild. Lottie had whipped them into a frenzy. Two songs weren’t enough. She could dance until her feet were bloody and it wouldn’t be enough.

  I noticed that the others had realized it too. Tex was already moving Nancy out. He glanced back at me and boomed, “Go!” Trixie and Jason were helping Ada with Tod and Stevie leading the way. Indy, Jet, Ally and Annette were sliding around the stage and heading toward a side door.

  Shirleen, Lavonne and Bear were settled in with drinks like they were sitting in their living room. I thought they were completely oblivious to the possible danger except Shirleen yelled to me, “Go with your bodyguard, girl, Shirleen will be okay. This ain’t no place for a pretty child like you. They get one look at you, they’ll tear you to shreds.”

  I nodded, really not feeling in the mood to be torn to shreds.

  While Luke pulled me with him, I heard Shirleen shout, “Come see Shirleen! Jet’ll bring you. You’re welcome any time!”

  I noticed the crowd was pressing in. The bouncers pushed through and started lining the stage.

  Luke stopped and he bent to my ear. “Get close to my back, hold o
nto my belt, keep your head down and move with me.” I nodded. “Let’s go,” he finished.

  My fingers curled into his belt, I fitted my body to his back and he pushed through the men pressing towards the stage. We got halfway to the door when Luke stopped.

  “Where you takin’ this sweet thing?” someone I couldn’t see asked.

  “Step aside,” Luke said in a voice full of warning. I figured the man would just step aside. At Luke’s tone, anyone in their right mind would step aside.

  “Don’t feel like –” the guy, voice now belligerent (and to my thinking, pretty fucking stupid), started to say, then I felt Luke move swiftly and economically.

  Then he started forward again.

  “Watch your feet,” Luke said to me.

  I looked down and we stepped over the man who was now unconscious on the floor.

  Holy cow.

  We didn’t have any trouble going forward then. We were given a wide berth.

  Luke put me in the Explorer, rounded the hood and got in beside me.

  While he was starting the car I said, “I’m worried about my friends. And Lottie. That didn’t feel good.”

  “That wasn’t good,” Luke said, hitting a button on the on-dash phone.

  It rang in the cab once and Luke was reversing out of the spot when we heard, “Yeah?”

  “Tell Lee his woman is in another situation. Smithie’s.”

  “Got it,” the voice said.

  “Eddie’s woman too,” Luke said.

  “Got it.”

  “The sister as well.”

  “Check.”

  “Out,” Luke said.

  I heard the disconnect.

  I stared at the phone.

  “That’s it?” I asked.

  “My assignment is you, not them,” Luke explained.

  “But –”

  “Lee’ll take care of it.”

  “But –”

  He switched gears and put the Explorer on the road. “Quiet.”

  “But, my friend Annette is in there.”

  “I thought her man was with her.”

  “Yes, but Jason can’t lay out a guy like you!” I yelled, getting panicked. “We have to go back.”

  “We’re not going back.”

  “We have to go back.”

  No answer.

  “Jason’s a pacifist. He’s a liberal. He’s a vegetarian. In a normal situation, Jason could handle himself but that wasn’t a normal situation. You’re, like, Superman. You have great facial hair. No one’ll mess with you. We have to go back!”

  “Babe?”

  “What?”

  “Shut up.”

  We stopped at a light and I pulled my phone out of my purse and called Annette.

  “Yo Bitch!” she answered.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “Yeah! Chaos! It’s fuckin’ cool. They like, love Lottie. She’s doin’ an early encore. I can’t wait. Wasn’t it the shit? Lottie told me Daisy showed her all of her moves. They’re gonna teach me.”

  “Are Indy, Jet and Ally okay?”

  “Well… yeah. We’re all drinking champagne in the dressing room. Tod and Stevie left, not really their gig. Jason just got in. He got Jet’s mom and the old lady to the car. We’re groovin’.”

  I closed my eyes with relief, then opened them again.

  “I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” I said.

  “Later.”

  Disconnect.

  “They’re fine. They’re drinking champagne in the dressing room,” I told Luke.

  No answer.

  “It sounds like everything’s cool. Maybe you overreacted.”

  Still no answer.

  I was beginning to feel like I was missing out. All my friends were still back there, drinking champagne and I was heading home. I wanted to drink champagne or, at least, have another appletini. Anyway, I liked Shirleen. She was hilarious.

  So I said, “Maybe it’s okay. Maybe we should go back and drink champagne. Lottie is going to dance again and I’d like to see it. I’m sure it’s safe.”

  That’s when I saw two squad cars, lights flashing, sirens whirring, speeding toward Smithie’s.

  I watched them fly by us and kept turned in my seat, looking out the back window, hoping they’d also fly by Smithie’s.

  They turned in.

  Luke pulled forward through the now green light and, half a block up, he slowed to let another squad car take a left onto our road and it flew by us too.

  “Shit,” I muttered.

  “You were sayin’?”

  Jeez.

  * * * * *

  I let us into Hank’s and Luke made me stand at the door while he checked the house. Once he was done, we flipped on a bunch of lights and he took me to the backdoor where he let out Shamus. We stood together silently at the backdoor while Shamus did his business and then moseyed back into the house. Luke closed and locked the door and turned to me.

  Shit.

  Alone with Luke.

  “You want coffee?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” he answered.

  We walked back to the kitchen and I ground the beans and made a pot of coffee.

  I had no idea how long Hank was going to be and Luke was obviously staying until Hank got home. It might be a long night. We’d need a lot of coffee.

  When it was set to brewing, I turned to Luke and he was leaning with hips against the counter, arms crossed on his chest, watching me with his eyes half-mast.

  Shit.

  I decided to start an unsexy conversation.

  “Where were you shot?” I asked.

  “Gut,” he answered.

  Holy cow.

  Even I knew a stomach wound was serious business.

  “Are you okay now?”

  “You already asked me that.”

  He was right, I had.

  I found myself getting angry. I don’t know why.

  “Well that just sucks!” I snapped. “They get the guy who shot you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good!” Then I found myself getting mother hen. “You should wear protective stuff, like one of those vests. You should probably be wearing one now. Who knows what could happen in your line of business. It should be standard issue.”

  “I was wearin’ a vest. They were armor-piercing bullets.”

  I gaped at him.

  “Aren’t those illegal?”

  “It wasn’t exactly a law-abidin’ citizen who shot me.”

  After he said that, his eyes dropped to my legs and I realized Shamus was sitting on my feet and I was absently stroking his head.

  “The dog’s claimed you,” Luke said.

  “He’s a friendly dog, he likes everyone,” I told him.

  “He isn’t sittin’ on my feet.”

  This was true, he wasn’t.

  I looked down at Shamus. Shamus looked up at me. I gave him a full head rub with both hands. He licked my wrist then leaned into my legs.

  When I straightened and looked at Luke, he had on one of his half-grins.

  “What?”

  “Hank doesn’t stand a chance.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Not that he’d want to,” Luke went on as if I hadn’t spoken.

  “Excuse me?”

  Luke pushed away from the counter and came at me.

  I braced, not knowing what to expect.

  He got in my space, reached around me, opened a cupboard and pulled down a mug. He set it on the counter beside me and tilted his head down to look at me.

  I was holding my breath.

  “You can go to bed,” he said.

  “I can?”

  “Yeah.”

  “But what about you? What are you going to do?”

  No answer.

  I went into good hostess mode.

  “I can’t go to bed with you awake and forced to hang around. That’ll be boring.”

  “I’m used to it,” he told me.

  “Still,” I replied.


  “Go to bed,” he commanded. Definitely commanded, no other way to put it.

  I wasn’t the kind of girl who listened to a command.

  “I’ll keep you company,” I offered.

  “Babe,” he said, his eyelids lowering again. “Hank’s got no worries with me movin’ in while things are good between you two. I don’t move on another man’s woman.”

  Well, that was good to hear.

  He went on. “If I were you, I wouldn’t push it.”

  Good God.

  “I’ll go to bed,” I said.

  “Smart decision.”

  I slid out from in front of him, said good night and Shamus and I went to the bedroom. I took off my clothes and makeup and then was left in a quandary about what to do next.

  Hank told me he wanted no clothing obstacles when he got home and the way Hank spoke to me that afternoon, I didn’t want any clothing obstacles either. But, I wasn’t sure it was a good idea to be naked while Luke was in the house. What if something happened and he had to come in?

  I compromised, put on my lilac nightie with the black lace but no underwear.

  Then Shamus and I got into bed and after tossing and turning for a while (both of us), we fell asleep.

  Chapter Twenty

  Gray as the North Pole

  Shamus jerked and jumped off the bed.

  Automatically, I moved into the warm space he left behind just as I felt the bed depress when Hank settled into it.

  His hands came to my body immediately and pulled me to him.

  I felt like I’d been asleep for hours. I opened my eyes a crack and it was pitch dark so I closed them again.

  Hank’s mouth touched my shoulder.

  “Whisky?”

  “Yeah,” he said, his lips against my shoulder. His hand was at my waist, skimming down the fabric of my nightie to my hip.

  “How did your thing go?”

  His mouth moved down my shoulder, effectively pushing aside my hair and his tongue touched the skin at the back of my neck. I trembled and my body warmed.

  “We got ‘em,” he said against my neck.

  “That’s good,” I said on another tremble.

  He pulled the fabric at my hip up and then his hand moved, his thumb pressing in to tag my underwear except it wasn’t there so his hand slid across my naked hip.

  Then it froze.

  “Jesus,” he muttered.

  It didn’t freeze for long. His fingers gripped me. He turned me and pulled me into him with his hand at my bare ass.

 

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