Rock Chick

by Kristen Ashley

  I was trying not to be pissed off but it was hard.

  “I don’t belong to you.”

  “I know that and you know that but men like Coxy don’t know that. He acquires things, even humans, especially women. His men don’t work for him because they respect and trust him, they do it because he pays them a lot.”

  Okay, that made sense.

  My hips were against his hips and his hands were going up my back, pulling the rest of my body into contact with his.

  I ignored it.

  “Have you dissuaded him from this war?”

  “Not likely.”

  “What happens now?”

  “I deal with it. You hear from him, see him, you tell me.”

  I could do that, that sounded easy.

  Lee’s hands made it to my shoulders and my entire torso was pressed against his.

  “What time is it?” I asked.

  Lee’s head came down and his lips were on my neck.

  “Quarter to two,” he said against my skin.

  “Ohmigod!” I shouted and tried to pull away but Lee’s arms tightened and brought me back. “I have to take a shower, we have to get to Dad’s. I’m supposed to be making the hamburger patties.”

  “Your father can make the hamburgers. We’re gonna be late.”

  I stared at him in horror. “Late? We can’t be late! Dad loves you, Lee, but he’s not exactly jumping for joy that we’re together. We can’t be late the first time we go home for a barbeque!”

  Lee’s face changed and his eyes became warm.

  “Are we together?”

  Oh crap.

  I started thinking fast.

  “We’re not, not together.”

  “I’m not entirely certain what to do with that.”

  I explained, “We’re not exactly together and were not, not together. We’re in together-limbo. We’re test-driving together to see if we want to buy it.”

  “We go to your Dad’s late, I could convince you to buy it.”

  I was pretty certain he was right so, in self-defense, I put my hands against his chest and pushed.

  He didn’t budge.

  I changed tactics.

  “How are you so sure you want to buy it?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “How are you sure?”

  “Trust me, I’m sure.”

  “How?”

  “I have an idea, why don’t we shower together?” he suggested.

  “That isn’t telling me how.”

  “No, but it would be showing you.”

  “So ‘how’ is a showing thing, not a telling thing?”

  “’How’ is show and tell, I just feel in the mood to show.”

  Grr.

  On to Plan C.

  “When you show me the how, do you want me to have my mind on hamburger patties?”

  He smiled his killer smile.

  “Your mind wouldn’t be on hamburger patties.”

  I was pretty certain he was right about that too.

  This took me to Plan D.

  “Lee, give me a break. It’s my Dad and I promised him I’d be there early to help.”

  He watched me for a second then he relented, sort of.

  “Okay, but you have to give me something to go on.”

  I was starting to get panicked and a little desperate.

  “Something, what something?”

  Lee’s arms dropped away.

  “You pick.”

  I was running late. Dad was going to be hacked off. Terry Wilcox had thrown down the gauntlet to Lee over me. There was still the whole Rosie Fiasco going on, someone had the diamonds and yet everyone was still looking for them. And lastly, Lee and I were in together-limbo and until we had three sane seconds, that was where we were going to stay. I didn’t have a lot of time to do anything creative.

  So I kissed him.

  Or, at least, I started out kissing him, my mouth open under his, my arms around his neck, my tongue sliding against his.

  When it ended, he was definitely kissing me. One arm around my back, the other hand twisted in my hair, his tongue sliding against mine.

  “Christ, you’re good at that,” he said when he lifted his head.

  I blinked.

  “I am?”

  His eyes were hot on me when I looked into them.

  “Yeah, you are and I like it that you have to ask.”

  At his answer, I pressed deeper into him but his hands were at my waist, pushing me away.

  “If you don’t get in the shower now, the family will do without macaroni salad and brownies.”

  I pushed against his hands. “Maybe we can be a little late.”

  His hands tensed but he kept me away.

  “I’m not talkin’ late, I’m talkin’ no show.”

  I stared at him.

  “Indy, get in the shower.”

  I got in the shower.

  * * * * *

  I was sitting in my Dad’s backyard with Kitty Sue.

  It was my backyard too, since I grew up there but I’d been away from home long enough for Dad to have reclaimed it. That was, he had enough time with me out of the house and not worrying him every second of the day that he was able to make the yard look nice, rather than just something he mowed every two weeks in the summer.

  Dad’s house was in Bonnie Brae, about eight blocks from Kitty Sue and Malcolm’s. When I was really young, it seemed it took forever to get to Ally. As I grew older, that distance lessened until one or the other of us walked it several times a day.

  “How’s it going?” Kitty Sue asked, her eyes on me and her mind on Lee and me.

  Lee and I had made it to Dad’s fifteen minutes before everyone else was due. This was fifteen minutes after I promised Dad I’d be there. Dad blamed Lee even though I told him it was my fault for falling asleep in the sun.

  I’d caught a second to talk to Lee when Dad put the hamburgers on the grill.

  “Don’t take it personally, he never liked any of the guys I brought home.”

  Even though this was true, it was not what Lee wanted to hear. After I said it, his eyes cut to me and I realized my mistake at bringing up the subject of the other guys I brought home.

  Then, trying to smooth things over for myself, I made matters worse.

  “Even if I’d chosen Hank, Dad would find something to be crotchety about. That’s his job, he’s a dad.”

  When Lee had cut his eyes to me, he hadn’t moved his body. After I said my last, he turned full-body to me and cut me off from view of everyone else.

  “Was Hank a choice?” he asked.

  Uh-oh.

  “I’m just saying,” I responded.

  “You’re just saying… what? Exactly.”

  “I’m trying to make you feel better!”

  “I wasn’t feeling badly. I know your father has an issue with you and me. He’ll come around. I don’t need thoughts of you and Hank in my head. Jesus, Indy.”

  Hank walked up. “You should know, you have an audience.”

  I peeked around Lee and saw everyone quickly turning their heads away.

  Great.

  Hank threw his arm casually around my shoulders, like he’d done a million times before. Except this time, Lee’s eyes narrowed, at me.

  “I need a beer,” I said, kind of desperately, and I left.

  By the time I settled in beside Kitty Sue, I was into my third Fat Tire beer and had eaten a burger and a goodly amount of macaroni salad and Kitty Sue’s oriental slaw. I’d worn a pair of cut-offs made from a pair of old army-green pants and a black tank top with a thin design of red roses laced with gray and white barbed wire that snaked up my waist, across my torso, over my shoulder and down my back. It was too hot for cowboy boots and anyway, boots looked ridiculous with shorts (and I’d tried that look on numerous occasions) so I’d worn a pair of black thick-soled flip flops. My cut-offs were already feeling tight at the waistband and I hadn’t even had brownies or pecan pie yet.

  I’d
successfully avoided Lee since our little discussion. This was not hard, I’d had a decade of successfully avoiding Lee at family gatherings.

  I turned to Kitty Sue and surprised myself by answering honestly, “I’m fine. Lee’s fine. Lee’s more fine than me. I’m having troubles adjusting. Lee seems pretty sure of himself. Lee seems pretty sure of everything.”

  This, I realized, was true about Lee always. I’d never met someone as confident in my life. Well, maybe Hank, but Hank’s confidence was quiet and assured. And there was Lee’s best friend, Eddie, of course. But Eddie was like Lee’s twin, separated at birth, cut from the same cloth. Lee’s confidence, and Eddie’s, wasn’t like Hank’s, it was cocky and assertive.

  “And you aren’t sure?” Kitty Sue asked.

  I looked at her and thought maybe I should have lied. It was too late now.

  “Nope. He scares me,” I admitted.

  She nodded. “Yep, he’s pretty dang scary.”

  I stared. My God, the woman was talking about her son.

  “You agree?”

  She looked at Lee then back at me. “Honey, that boy drives me to distraction. It’s like he’s not of my loins. I don’t even know where he came from. If Ally hadn’t been the exact replica of Lee, personality-wise, except female, I would have wondered if there was a mix-up at the hospital.”

  I kept staring. Kitty Sue kept talking.

  “Hank’s just like his Dad, smart, cautious, controlled, taking only calculated risks. I’m sure Lee calculates his risks but I think he allows for a much larger margin for error and counts on… I don’t know what he counts on to get him out of whatever scrapes he gets into.”

  I couldn’t stop staring, she kept talking and everything that came out of her mouth was like a verbal car accident. If she was trying to convince me to stick with her son, she should have tried a different tact.

  “He does… you know?” Kitty Sue said.

  I realized she was asking me a question so I shook my head that no, I didn’t know.

  “He gets out of every scrape, always did and always did it on his own. Though it’ll take some kind of woman to live a life like that, knowing what he’s like, knowing the risks he takes.”

  Her hand went to my knee and she squeezed it.

  “Not anyone here would think less of you if you aren’t that woman. I’m telling you because it’s true. We all love you both and we’ll always love you both, no matter what happens between you.” She stopped, sighed and continued. “Anyway, I don’t even know if that kind of woman exists. I’m his mother, I’ve lived with him surviving scrapes that would make your hair stand on end and I worry about him every day, he scares the hell out of me.”

  I didn’t want my hair standing on end, that was true. It didn’t sound like a good look.

  I also didn’t want to think of any other woman being the kind of woman who blithely accepted Lee’s Death Cheating Margin of Error and therefore being the one he came home to every night. And lastly, I didn’t want the family not thinking less of me because I threw over Lee because I was a sissy. I was no sissy. Lee may be scary but not that scary. I could out-margin-of-error-acceptance any bitch that came along.

  “I’m gonna get the brownies,” I told Kitty Sue.

  She patted my knee. I got up and went straight to Lee.

  He was sitting in a lawn chair with his legs stretched out in front of him, Hank, Malcolm and Ally sitting with him. He watched me cross the lawn and didn’t move a muscle.

  “Can I talk to you?” I asked.

  He didn’t answer but got up. He followed me through the sliding glass door and into the kitchen. I slid the door shut behind us and turned to him.

  “Are you mad at me?” I asked.

  He crossed his arms on his chest. He didn’t answer me but I guessed that was a yes.

  I tried to cute my way out of it and flashed him a tilty-head smile.

  “What’ll it take for you to get un-mad at me?”

  He didn’t answer.

  Okay, that didn’t work.

  I sighed and threw up my hands. “It was never Hank, it would never be Hank. Hank is not even a possibility.”

  “For Christ’s sake, stop talking about Hank,” he exploded, taking my hand and pulling me deeper into the house and out of eyesight and earshot of everyone in the backyard.

  “What is it then?” I asked his back when he stopped in the living room.

  “Think about it,” he answered after he turned.

  “I don’t want to think about it, if I knew what it was, I’d already be explaining it or apologizing for it. You’re gonna have to tell me.”

  “I’m not tellin’ you.”

  “Oh for fuck’s sake!” I yelled. “How can I make things better if I don’t even know what I did wrong?”

  “Forget about it. I’m not angry with you anymore.”

  “Yes you are,” I countered.

  “No,” he said in his scary voice, “I’m not.”

  “Boy, are you moody. You’re the most moody guy I’ve ever met.”

  “If you really want to make things better, you could start by not talkin’ about all the men of your acquaintance. That would help.”

  I gasped.

  “You make me sound like a slut!”

  He walked up to me and I stood my ground. He was so close, I could feel his heat.

  “All right, Indy. First, I don’t like thinkin’ of you with other guys. There may not have been a lot but even one puts my teeth on edge. Second, I don’t like bein’ compared to Hank or the idea that you think Tom would accept him easier than he would me.”

  The light dawned and it dawned brightly on the fact that I was such a moron.

  “Lee –”

  “I’m goin’ for a drive. I’ll be back to take you home.”

  “Lee –”

  He took off and I stood in the living room staring out the big picture window to the front yard. The Crossfire was long gone by the time the door to the bathroom opened, Dad came out and he looked at me.

  “How much did you hear?” I asked.

  “All of it, you were talking pretty loudly,” Dad answered, coming up to me.

  I put my head on his shoulder and he put his arm around my back.

  “I’m a moron.”

  “Well, I don’t know what you said but it doesn’t sound good.”

  “I’m a moron.”

  Dad kissed the hair at the side of my head.

  “He’d be all kinds of fool if he didn’t come back and accept your apology. Lee is a lot of things, but that boy is no fool. I’ll take the brownies out.”

  Dad went into the kitchen and I heard the sliding glass door open and close.

  I went to the bathroom, not because I needed to use it but if Dad could hear, then the others could as well and I needed to get my head together. Not a good start, the first family get-together and I said something stupid and pissed off Lee to the point he had to take a drive to cool off.

  I was contemplating how I’d make it up to him when I left the bathroom and the doorbell rang. I walked to the door, thinking maybe it got locked somehow. The only person it could be was Lee and he would normally just walk in or walk around the house to the backyard.

  I opened the door and stared the shooters in the face, momentarily stunned that they were standing on the doorstep of my childhood home and ringing the bell.

  I opened my mouth to scream, one of them leaned forward, arm extended and then it was lights out.

  Chapter Eleven

  Story Time for Bad Little Girls

  This kidnapping was entirely different from the last.

  They didn’t ask me if I was okay and they weren’t cordial.

  There was no cream damask sofa either.

  They didn’t even talk to me at all. This was good, it meant I didn’t talk to them either and thus didn’t draw undue attention to myself, nor have the opportunity to piss them off so much they shot at me or punched me in the face.

  They cuffed m
y hands behind my back and tied me to a chair with nylon rope. I thought doing both was a bit overkill but figured it wise not to share my opinion. Being cuffed and tied was not comfortable, to say the least. In fact, if I moved at all, it hurt. Either the rope gouged into my skin or my arms strained against all natural limits. I didn’t have my limb coordination back from the second stun-gunning of my life so I didn’t get a chance to struggle while they were tying me. It wouldn’t have mattered, they both had guns. I’d quit self-defense classes before week three and, as far as I knew, was not bullet-proof like Superman.

  I was in a house, God knew where, just that obviously no one lived there and hadn’t for a long time. We were in the filthy living room and there was an old, beat up, dusty couch and the chair I was sitting in. That was it, the extent of the décor, unless one counts dust mites the size of cocker spaniels.

  The two guys who grabbed me were the shooters who shot at Rosie and me and started this disaster. One of the shooters spent a lot of time in another room and I could tell by the drone of his voice that he was on the phone. The other shooter stayed with me. These guys were not as panicked as Rosie and clearly had showers in the last couple of days. However, their eyes scared me. This was serious shit. These guys were professionals and they were not fucking around.

  I probably would have been more scared if I didn’t have to go to the bathroom.

  I normally had a cast iron bladder. Everyone always commented on my bladder control. It usually took me twice as long to break the seal as it did others. I could drink freely from the keg before a gig and not miss a single note of a song during the concert. My bladder was almost as legendary as my encounter with Aerosmith’s Joe Perry. But now, the Fat Tire beer worked its way through my system in record time and I was dying for a wee.

  I had no idea how much time I was there. I was concentrating on keeping my mouth shut and keeping from peeing my pants. I didn’t want to ask them to let me go to the bathroom. I didn’t have my shit together enough to think of an escape plan. I didn’t wonder how long it would take for my family to realize I was gone, especially considering the Lee Incident meant I would be in hiding for awhile before showing my face in the backyard again. I didn’t even consider thinking about the fact that this might not go well for me and the last thing I did was fight with Lee.