Rock Chick 03 Redemption (7 page)

He plucked the MP3 player out of my hand and turned it to look at the display. His eyes went lazy at what he saw but he touched it with his thumb and the mega-blast of music powered down to seriously un-rock ‘n’ rol levels.

Then, he leaned down, his fingers found the cord to the earphones which was resting against my chest, he tugged it and my right earphone popped out of my ear just as his lips made it there.

“You’re shouting,” he whispered

Goddammit.

I was such a loser.

“Though, Springsteen is worth it,” he finished.

“Don’t you have a job?” I asked, when his head came up and his hand went away from my chest and settled opposite my body on the couch by my hip, making him lean into me al the more.

I was trying to ignore the fact that although it wasn’t even noon, I’d made a fool of myself at a used bookstore in Denver at least half a dozen times.

“Came by to get coffee,” Hank answered.

“Oh.”

“Want to have lunch?”

“I’m having lunch with Uncle Tex.”

He looked at the coffee counter. I moved my head on the couch seat and looked too. There were four people in line and two people waiting at the end of the counter for their coffee. Uncle Tex was working the espresso machine like a mad man, banging and crashing like each coffee needed to be created with as much violence as possible.

“He might be delayed,” Hank said, looking back at me.

“I just had an ultra-sized cheeseburger meal,” I told Hank,

“I’m not hungry.”

His eyes drifted down my body then up to my face again.

It’d been a long time since I’d done it but I was pretty sure I was blushing.

“Then maybe you’l keep me company while I have lunch,” he suggested.

“I don’t want to be around food, it’l make me sick. I’m hungover. Probably too hungover even to have dinner. I haven’t been this hungover since Purdue beat IU at Ross-Ade my senior year.”

“Then we’l have a quiet night.”

He had an answer for everything.

Before I could say anything, he noted, “You’re a Boilermaker.”

“Hoosier by birth, Boilermaker by the grace of God.” It came out of my mouth by rote; I’d been saying it since I was three, nearly as long as I’d been saying, “Go, Cubbies, go”. I didn’t mean it to be cute, or flirty, or funny.

Hank’s look told me he took it al three ways.

I sat up, putting my elbows behind me, so I was (somewhat) face to face with him. “Whisky, don’t get any ideas. My reflexes are slow. I’m stil not sure about this dinner.”

“You’re sure.”

“I’m
not
. I’m in Denver on personal business, business with Uncle Tex. I don’t need you complicating matters.”

“What kind of personal business?”

“Business that’s
personal
,” I said in answer.

He grinned. “Why don’t you walk me to my truck and I’l do some more convincing that you want to carve some time for me out of your busy schedule,” he pressed.

“No more convincing!” I shouted, and everyone looked our way, customers and al . I lowered my voice and hissed.

“You promised, not until tonight.”

“I can wait until tonight.”

Good God, I’d walked straight into that one.

“You’re an arrogant sonovabitch,” I told him, flat out.

What could I say? I was hungover and, at home, there was another man sleeping in my bed. Okay, so maybe Bil y was on the road, looking for me and not sleeping in my bed. And maybe Bil y and I hadn’t had sex in over a year (even though he tried and was beginning to get pretty pissed off about my lack of response). But stil , I had to sort out Bil y before any Hanks entered my future and
definitely
my present.

“Sunshine, you’re sensational even when you’re bein’ a bitch.”

I gasped.

Then I narrowed my eyes.

“Don’t cal me a bitch.”

“Let me get this straight, you can cal me a sonovabitch but I can’t retaliate in kind?”

“That’s right.”

He smiled again.

I was majorly in trouble, there was no shaking this guy.

Maybe, it was because I didn’t real y want to shake him.

Al right, it was time to get serious.

Al right, it was time to get serious.

“Whisky, you have no idea what you’re getting into with me.”

His other hand came down to the couch and he leaned into me, so close his face was just an inch away. “Roxanne, listen closely. One look at you and I knew trouble was on your heels. I’m wil in’ to give it time for you to tel me. That doesn’t happen, I’m wil in’ to wade in when that trouble catches up. Right now, I’d be doin’ it for Tex and out of curiosity about you. After tonight, I reckon I’l be doing it for other reasons.”

Holy cow.

I didn’t know what to say, so I did the smart thing for once and didn’t say anything.

He went on. “I can understand you protecting yourself, but you have to know, you’ve no reason to protect me. I have my eyes wide open…”

I was beginning to find it hard to breathe.

“Hank—” I whispered, interrupting him but he kept going.

“And I like what they see.”

Yowza.

“I’m in trouble,” I said.

“I already know that.”

“I’m talking about
you
.”

“Good to know you’ve got your eyes open too.” He didn’t even let that sink in. He kissed my nose, moved away, grabbed his paper cup of coffee off the table and he was gone.

“Holy cow,” I breathed.

“Sugar bunch, you can say that again,” Daisy cal ed. She was sitting on the book counter, legs crossed and leafing through a copy of
Us
magazine. Though her hands were moving the pages, she was looking at the door that had just closed behind Hank.

“Holy cow,” I said again.

“We’re al fucked,” Duke’s gravel y voice said from somewhere in the books.

I had the feeling he wasn’t wrong.

* * * * *

Uncle Tex got off work and took me to a Middle Eastern restaurant on University Boulevard cal ed Jerusalem. We both ordered the combo platter, which arrived brimming over with rice, baba ghanoush, hummus, fattoush, tabbouleh, stuffed grape leaves, falafel, gyros meat, three kinds of kabobs and pita bread.

“Holy cow. I’m never going to be able to eat this,” I said, staring at my plate.

“Then don’t eat, talk. What’s goin’ on with you?” I started eating.

“Roxanne Gisel e…”

“Jeez, Uncle Tex, you sound just like Mom.” His eyes flickered, pain slicing through them and I wished I’d kept my mouth shut.

“Okay, I’l talk,” I said, mainly to take his mind off whatever it was that was hurting him.

I told him about Bil y.

Halfway

through

the

story,

around

about

the

sledgehammer part, he boomed (pita bread and baba ghanoush flying out of his mouth). “I’m gonna fuckin’
kill
that
motherfucker
!”

I looked around at our gawking neighbors.

“Uncle Tex, calm down,” I whispered.

He swal owed.

“Finish it!” he demanded, circling his fork at me.

I finished the story.

Then Tex said, “You don’t gotta be on the run from that asshole. One word to Lee and he’d fix his sorry ass and good.”

No way. No way in hel .

“No, Uncle Tex, no words to Lee, to Hank, to Eddie, to Indy, to
anybody
.”

“Lee’s one badass individual. Lee’d make Hitler shake in his sil y, shiny boots, even with the whole German army standin’ at his back.”

“No.”

“Roxie, darlin’, your plan is shit.”

“I’ve been working on this plan for years!”

“It’s stil shit.”

I scowled at him.

“Uncle Tex, I got myself into this mess. I’m getting myself out.”

He shook his head.

“Not gonna fuckin’ happen. I’m talkin’ to the boys,” he said like that was final.

I slammed my palm on the table to get his attention and Uncle Tex’s eyes locked on mine.

I took a deep breath and said, “I appreciate your concern and I need your help but I’m fixing this my way.”

“Roxie—”

“No!” I closed my eyes and tilted my head to the table.

Then I looked up again. “Uncle Tex, I have to look myself in the eye in the mirror every morning. After I fucked up seven years of my life, do you honestly think I can just hand over my problems to some guys I barely know and be able to wake up and look in those eyes?”

He stared at me.

Final y, he said, “Jesus Jones, but you’re a MacMil an.”

“Damn right I am,” I told him with more than a little bit of pride.

He stared at me some more.

“Fine,” was al he said.

I felt my body relax. “Thank you.”

“One thing, darlin’ girl. I get even the niggliest fuckin’

inklin’ that this shit plan o’ yours is goin’ south, and mark my words, it’s gonna go south, I’m cal in’ in the boys.” I felt my body get tense again.

“No,” I said.

“That includes Hank.”

“No!” I shouted, now ignoring our gawking neighbors.

“I should fuckin’ say that especial y fuckin’ includes Hank.”

“You do that, I leave,” I threatened.

“You leave, I’m siccin’ Lee on your ass. He’l send Vance or Mace to track you down. You won’t even make it to the Colorado border.”

Man, oh man, I was undoubtedly, seriously, official y in trouble.

“Uncle Tex—”

His big, beefy hand came out and enveloped mine. “Just got you in my life, darlin’ girl, ain’t no weasely-assed motherfucker gonna take you back out. He’l have to split my skul open with that fuckin’ sledgehammer before that happens.”

The fear crawled up my throat again mainly because I was worried Bil y’d do it.

“Uncle Tex—”

“Don’t worry, Roxie. Before he cracked open my skul , he’d have to crack open half a dozen other ones. Trust me, I know how these fuckin’ guys work. He wouldn’t get through the first wave.”

“I don’t know these people and you barely do.”

“Don’t need to know much more of them to know what they’re made of. Seen a lot of it these past months.” He squeezed my hand. “You came to the right place.” Then he leaned back in his seat and tipped his head back, “Bring it on!” he boomed.

Good grief.

Yes, I was undoubtedly, seriously, official y in trouble.

Chapter Five
Phone Calls

Uncle Tex took me to my car and I fol owed him to his house and I helped him clean litter trays. After, we went down to the corner store where he introduced me to Mr.

Kumar, his friend and grocery supplier. Then, I found out Uncle Tex needed to get ready for his date with Nancy.

On the way back from Mr. Kumar’s store, I sang the

“Uncle Tex and Nancy, Sitting in a Tree” song again and he picked me up, carried me to my car, set me down on the street, turned around and, without a backward glance, walked back into his house.

Hee hee.

* * * * *

I went to my hotel and tore through my suitcases (yes, I had two, I was high maintenance and high maintenance women didn’t go anywhere without at least two suitcases) looking for an outfit to wear for my date. I was staring at the exploded suitcases in despair because, even though I had more clothes in those two suitcases than most of the earth’s population would own in their lifetimes, I did not have an outfit to wear on my date with Whisky.

My cel phone rang.

I tensed and stared at my purse like it was a living thing out for my blood and I yanked the phone out of my bag, expecting it to tel me Bil y was cal ing.

Instead, it told me Daisy was cal ing.

In shock, I flipped it open. “Hel o?”

“Hey Sugar Bunch, what’re you wearin’ for your date?” Daisy asked.

I sat on the edge of the bed. I’d known this woman for less than twenty-four hours and she acted like she’d known me for twenty-four years.

“I’ve no idea,” I told her.

“Cal Indy, she’l know. She’s good at that stuff. Listen, you gonna be in town awhile?”

What now?

“I don’t know,” I answered.

“Wel , me and Marcus are havin’ a party, not this Thursday but next. Would love for you to come.” That was so sweet of her.

“I don’t know if I’l be here but if I am, I’l come,” I said.

“I don’t need exact numbers, it’s a charity do so it’l be finger food. The people comin’ own most of Denver. They can afford to fil their bel ies before they show up at The Castle.”

The Castle?

Daisy went on. “It’s black tie, you got something sparkly to wear?”

“Um…” I didn’t. Bil y and I didn’t normal y attend black tie affairs.

“Don’t worry, Tod wil loan you somethin’. He’s a drag queen. He has
the best
closet. Oh! Gotta go, my masseuse is here. Ta-ta!”

“Bye,” I said to dead air. She’d already hung up.

I flipped the phone closed and tried to flip off the switch that was making me feel welcome and safe and weirdly at home (the switch didn’t work).

I washed my face in order to prepare for my nighttime makeup regime and I was drying it when my phone rang. I looked at it on the vanity, certain that it would be Bil y, but instead it said it was Tod, Indy’s neighbor.

Holy cow. I knew that Daisy had programmed in Tod
and
Stevie when she was fiddling with my phone. How Tod got my number, I did not know.

I flipped it open. “Hel o?”

“Hey girlie. It’s Tod. Daisy cal ed, said you might need something to wear to her big bash. Come over, we’l go through my closet,” Tod invited.

Oh my God, that was
so
sweet.

“I’m not sure I’m going to be here,” I told him.