Rock Chick Regret

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Rock Chick Regret Page 47

by Kristen Ashley


  I didn’t have the time to worry about Hector being rude.

  I took in breath and asked, “Marty?”

  Hector replied immediately, “Not good. He should have driven himself to the hospital, not here.”

  I moved on. “Donny?”

  “Donny and his boys were all down with officers workin’ on ‘em when I got here. But Luke and Lee got a lot of experience with this shit. They don’t shoot to kill, just neutralize.”

  That might be so but there was no way they had time even to aim.

  So I told Hector, “What just happened was insane, they didn’t have time –”

  He interrupted me by saying firmly, “They had time.”

  I stared at him and realized he wasn’t lying.

  I decided to move on again. “Why did it all…” I stopped then started again, “What happened?”

  His face dipped lower, he touched his lips to mine and he said, “We’ll talk about it later. After we talk to the cops and after we’re done sittin’ in the hot tub.”

  Right away, this made me smile. I couldn’t help it, even with all the drama, the very thought of sitting in a hot tub with Hector sounded great.

  No, especially with all the drama.

  And there it was again.

  Drama. Gunfights. Paramedics. Police officers. Fear. Panic. Life-threatening situations. Jack getting “clipped”.

  And Hector swept it all away with hot tub promises.

  I snuggled closer then my smile faded.

  “I’m not allowed,” I told him.

  His head jerked with surprise right before his face changed and he looked like he was about to laugh.

  Now, really, seriously, truly there was absolutely nothing funny about this.

  “You’re not allowed?” he repeated.

  “My tattoo,” I explained. “The tattoo guy said –”

  He interrupted me again. “It’ll be okay.”

  I cocked my head and asked, “You sure?”

  One of his arms came from around me and his hand went to my neck then up, his fingers sliding into my hair. Instead of tilting my head back, he tilted it down and I felt his lips moving against the top of my head.

  “I’m sure.”

  Then he kissed me there.

  After that, he and I went out into the hall and I took over “seein’ to Jack”.

  * * * * *

  “Back in the news today is Nightingale Investigations. Some months back the private investigations firm achieved local fame while guarding the lead singer of a popular local band. This afternoon, on Broadway, a gunfight played out between –”

  The newscaster was cut off when Hector pressed a button on the remote and the TV screen went blank.

  I lifted my still wet haired from the hot tub head from his chest and I looked up at him.

  “I was watching that,” I protested.

  He threw the remote on the nightstand, his body turned into mine and I found myself on my back with Hector mostly on top of me.

  “I don’t wanna watch the news,” he told me, his eyes locking with mine. “I wanna fool around with my girlfriend.”

  My belly melted even though we’d just “fooled around” in the hot tub not an hour ago.

  “We just fooled around in the hot tub,” I reminded him, as if he could forget. One thing was certain sure, I couldn’t forget. Hot tub sex was amazing.

  (Oh Lord, I hoped he couldn’t forget).

  He grinned wickedly (he didn’t forget) and his head started descending. “Don’t care.”

  “What if they said something about me on the news?”

  His mouth hit mine. “Don’t care.”

  “What if they said something about you?”

  Since I persisted in talking, his lips left my mouth, trailed down my cheek, along my jaw to below my ear. “Don’t care.”

  “What if they said something about my father?”

  His tongue touched the skin below my ear and then moved down and forward to my throat, I shivered then he said, voice deeper now, “Don’t care.”

  “Hector,” I called, my arms going around him, one going up into his hair. Truth be told, I really wanted to have sex (yes, again, but he did just call me his girlfriend and I liked it, I liked it loads, and I felt like I should get to celebrate). But, as hateful as it was, I had to know so I went on, “What happened today?”

  He pulled up and looked at me. Then one of his hands came to rest on the side of my head.

  Then he did something strange.

  His thumb came out and slid across the scar on my cheek and his eyes, warm and intense, watched it move while I held my breath at this gentle, yet somehow weirdly profound, gesture.

  His gaze came back to mine.

  “Today, we got one step closer to this bein’ over.”

  This surprised me.

  “One step?” I asked, confused. “But Ricky’s in jail. Marty and Donny are in the hospital under armed guard –”

  His mouth touched mine and I quit talking then he said, “One step, mamita. There’s still more clean up to do.”

  “What clean up?”

  He stared at me a second then two then on the third second he continued, “I just wanna make sure you’re safe.”

  “But –”

  His thumb moved from my cheek to my lips, effectively quieting me.

  “One night, Sadie. One night just you and me and this bed and your body and none of this shit comes in. For one night, I wanna forget it. Can you give that to me?”

  I pulled in my lips.

  I really wanted to know what happened that day and why, with the Balduccis gone, he thought he still needed to make sure I was safe.

  But I realized two things at once and they hit me with the strength of an oncoming train.

  First, he’d never asked me for anything.

  That wasn’t strictly true. He’d taken things and he’d given things but he’d never asked for anything except to take care of me, for me to trust him and to give him this and none of those things took anything from me, they just gave.

  Second, earlier that day, he’d called me mi amor, “my love”, according to Jet, the ultimate Spanish endearment.

  Because of those two things, I nodded.

  Then I watched, close up and fascinated, as his face went soft.

  Then his mouth came toward mine.

  Then we forgot everything and it was just him and me and our bodies in his bed.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Christmas Dinner at the Big House

  Sadie

  I woke up, alone, the bedclothes tucked tight all around me.

  I pulled some of Hector’s pillow hoard under the covers with me, held them to my chest and stared at the wall for several moments, mind blank, still half asleep. Then I wondered if sometime during that day I’d be undecided in ranking it as my second best day ever against the day before and the day before that (barring kidnappings and gunfights, of course).

  Then I wondered if there would be a day when there were so many good days, I wouldn’t be able to rank them anymore.

  And somewhere in the very, very back of my mind, I had a feeling there would.

  This thought made me smile at the wall.

  I got up, still sleepy because Hector kept me up late. “Fooling around”, I learned, was different than the other stuff we did. It took longer, loads longer, not that I was complaining (at all). I put on my pajamas and one of Hector’s flannel shirts and shuffled into the hall.

  I smelled bacon cooking and heard voices downstairs and I knew Hector had company (again).

  I wandered downstairs, through the living room and into the kitchen.

  Hector not only had company, he had loads of company. Tom, Kitty Sue and Malcolm were there. Blanca was at the stove. Vance was leaning against the counter. All of them had coffee mugs.

  Hector was sitting on the counter and I smiled to everyone, gave them a little wave but shuffled straight to Hector.

  He opened his legs when
I approached and I went straight in, my arms sliding around his waist, I pressed my cheek to his chest and one of his arms went around shoulders.

  His other hand came to my chin and lifted my face. When I saw them, his eyes were soft and warm which made me feel soft and warm as well as snugly, comfy and lovely.

  “You okay?” he muttered.

  I nodded and murmured, “Sleepy.”

  “You should have stayed in bed.”

  I grinned, cuddled closer and, my voice breathy, I said, “Babe. And miss the party?”

  His face changed, it got that soft, hard, possessive look and his eyes went from warm to hot. If we didn’t have an audience, I knew something would have happened but instead he let go of my chin. I dipped my head, pressed my cheek against his chest again, he muttered some soft words in Spanish into my hair and then kissed me there.

  I caught sight of Blanca who was staring at us, bacon fork pointed up, coffee mug in her other hand.

  I blinked then blinked again but even so, the expression on her face didn’t change. She was watching me with a feminine, motherly version of the same soft, hard, possessive look that her son had just treated me to. I didn’t know what to make of that except it made that snugly, comfy, lovely feeling intensify.

  “Blanca, can you teach me how to speak Spanish while you teach me how to cook?” I called to her.

  Her body gave a start, she shook her head as if clearing it and then said, “Sí, mi hija.”

  “Gracias,” I returned.

  She grinned.

  I grinned back.

  Kitty Sue burst out laughing.

  My eyes moved to her.

  “What’s funny?” I asked.

  “I just think it’s cute, after twenty-six years, you haven’t changed. I’d be over at your Mom’s having coffee in the morning and you’d get up, all sleepy, and come in and give her a snuggle just like you’re doing with Hector right now.”

  I was blinking again, that snugly, comfy, lovely feeling blossoming, the warm glow starting in my chest.

  “Really?” I asked Kitty Sue.

  “Really, honey,” she replied, her eyes shifted to Malcolm then to Hector then to me then, her voice pitched lower, she told me, “Though, if your Dad was having coffee with us, you always went straight to him. Always.”

  At her words, my body went ramrod straight and Hector’s arm went tight.

  It occurred to my still waking brain that everyone being there wasn’t a social call.

  Instantly, I looked up to Hector and declared, “I’m going to Vegas. I was hot yesterday playing Yahtzee. I’m taking the Rock Chicks with me and I’m going to win enough money for them to retire.”

  “Not sure bein’ hot at Yahtzee translates in Vegas, mamita,” Hector told me.

  “You weren’t there, it was huge. I got three yahtzees in one game,” I explained.

  Hector grinned but his thighs tightened around me and he said softly, “Sorry, preciosa, hate to say it but you’re not gonna get out of this.”

  I sighed.

  I knew it.

  I just knew it.

  So, I was having some really good days.

  But they were still mingled with some really bad times.

  “That’s what I was afraid of,” I whispered to Hector, turned my back to him and faced the room. Hector’s arm went around my chest and he pulled my back to his front and I was glad. His body was warm, hard and strong and I had a feeling I was going to need it.

  Malcolm asked my preference then brought me a cup of coffee.

  “All right, sock it to me,” I said to the room after Malcolm handed me my coffee.

  “After breakfast,” Blanca decreed.

  For some bizarre reason (lack of sleep, a latent bent toward danger), I decided to go head-to-head with Blanca.

  “I’m sorry, Blanca, but seriously, whatever it is, I’d rather get it over with.”

  She gave me a good, long, Blanca stare.

  I gave her a good, long Sadie stare.

  This lasted awhile.

  Then she said, whirling the bacon fork in the air, “Como quieras.”

  I had no idea if I won or lost so I twisted my neck and looked up at Hector.

  “What’d she say?” I whispered.

  “As you wish,” he answered, his lips twitching.

  I turned back to Blanca. “Oh. That’s pretty. Como quieras. As you wish. Nice.”

  Blanca smiled, I felt Hector’s body move with laughter, Vance was grinning his arrogant grin at me and everyone else was chuckling.

  I twisted back to Hector. “Did I say something funny?”

  He burst out laughing.

  Apparently, I did.

  Whatever.

  It was time to get back to the matter at hand.

  I looked back at the room. “Can we please focus, people?” I asked.

  The smiles and chuckles died away and immediately I wanted them back.

  Too late because Tom started talking.

  “Sadie, you remember a few days ago when we talked in Lee’s office?”

  Oh my.

  This was not starting out well.

  Of course I remembered. How could I forget? It was when I found out my mother was probably murdered. Who would forget that?

  “Yes,” I replied hesitantly.

  “Well,” Tom went on. “Eddie asked Vance to look into things. Vance did and he found out what happened to Lizzie.”

  My body lurched and a hand went out to Hector’s knee, fingers curling around it, gripping hard. Hector’s arm around my chest squeezed.

  I looked at Vance.

  “I’m sorry, Sadie,” Vance said softly and I knew I wasn’t going to get good news. Mom wasn’t waiting for me in a small agricultural village in the mountains of Peru where news was brought on foot through treacherous mountain paths so she didn’t know yet it was safe to come home.

  I closed my eyes and on the backs of my eyelids I saw my Mom smiling at me.

  I opened my eyes again and said to Vance, “Tell me.”

  Vance’s gaze cut to Hector, came back to me and, without hesitating, he told me.

  “Luther Diggs found out what your Mom was doin’. He ordered the hit. Mickey Balducci was one of his men back then. He carried it out.”

  This hurt, like, loads.

  I didn’t let it show.

  “Where is she?” I asked and I was proud that my voice only held a little tremor.

  Vance stared at me closely then said carefully, “You mean her body?”

  That hurt even more.

  Her body.

  My Mom’s body.

  Dumped somewhere, in a river, in a shallow grave, alone, unmarked, undiscovered, gone.

  These thoughts penetrated my heart like a million little, sharp daggers.

  I didn’t let this show either.

  Instead, I simply nodded.

  His eyes stayed gentle on me. “I don’t know.”

  I nodded again.

  “Your Dad didn’t know she was informing on him,” Malcolm cut in and my gaze moved to him.

  “He didn’t?”

  Malcolm shook his head. “No.”

  “A couple of months after it happened, word got to Seth that Luther ordered the hit and why.” Tom entered the conversation. “You remember Bernie Watson?”

  I nodded yet again. Bernie had been my father’s right hand man for years. He’d been around for as long as I could remember. Old enough to be my father’s father, he retired to Florida five years ago. He’d always scared me a little but I still always kind of liked him. We sent each other Christmas cards and he always sent me a birthday card, every year, with a five dollar bill in it just like he gave me when I was a kid.

  “I remember Bernie. He sends me birthday cards,” I told Tom.

  “I talked to Bernie,” Vance said to me and I looked back to him. “Bernie had a lot to say. About your Dad, about your Mom. About how your Dad didn’t give a shit about your Mom informing on him but he did give a shit that
she’d been taken out. Bernie told me when he found out, your Dad went cold. That was his word. Cold. He started takeover maneuvers against Diggs immediately. Took him down within ten months of finding out.”

  I realized I’d started trembling only when Hector’s hand came out and took my coffee cup away. Then he leaned into me, his hands going down my arms, his fingers curling around my wrists then he wrapped both my and his arms around my body and rested his chin on my shoulder.

  This should have helped. Somewhere deep I realized it felt nice. But it didn’t help.

  “He took care of Mickey Balducci too, didn’t he?” I whispered. “The Balducci Boys aren’t insane and mean, they were after revenge, weren’t they?”

  Vance didn’t say anything, he just nodded.

  I twisted my head to look at Hector, his chin came away from my shoulder and his eyes caught mine.

  “I don’t know what to do with this,” I said softly.

  “Nothin’ to do with it, Sadie, except know he loved her, he avenged her and he didn’t kill her,” Hector told me.

  “I don’t know what to do with that, either,” I said back.

  “Seth didn’t come over with your Mom. He wasn’t social.” Malcolm started talking and my eyes moved from Hector to Malcolm. “But we knew him, sometimes he’d come out to dinner or pick Lizzie up from a barbeque and stay for a beer. He wasn’t a mellow guy, he wasn’t laidback, but he wasn’t the man he is now, not back then. Losin’ her did that to him. I thought it then, I’m sure of it now.”

  I didn’t have time to process that before Vance spoke again.

  “I found her stuff.”

  I started blinking.

  Yes, again.

  “Her… stuff?” I asked Vance.

  “Her stuff. Your Dad kept it. It’s in a storage unit in Aurora. The unit is filled with clothes, jewelry, shoes, photos, books. It isn’t just filled, it’s preserved. Every piece has been carefully packed away, the unit is temperature controlled, sealed against water damage and it’s fireproof. Units like that cost a fortune.”

  “Oh my God,” I breathed, my trembling body starting to shiver.

  My father hadn’t gotten rid of every memory of her. He’d kept it.

  My father hadn’t killed her. He’d avenged her.

  My body went straight, I pulled away from Hector a bit and I looked at Kitty Sue. “Tell me how I was again with my father.”

 

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