Rock Chick Reckoning

by Kristen Ashley

  “No, Shirleen, really, we should deal with –” Jet pushed but I interrupted her.

  I did this by shouting, so loudly I didn’t hear the door opening and Mace coming in. “Oh shit! The gig! The equipment’s still at the Palladium, Mace has to set up the security detail, effing hell!”

  “It’s covered,” Mace’s deep voice announced, I jumped in surprise and everyone turned their eyes to him.

  He unhooked the leash from Juno’s collar and Juno moved to me slowly, giving head butts and sniffs to Rock Chicks as she passed.

  I looked at Mace and knew with a glance he was still pissed.

  “What’s covered?” I asked cautiously.

  His eyes came to mine. “Everything. Shirleen’s got Roam and Sniff helpin’ the band move the equipment. Luke’s in charge of the security detail and he’s already arranged it with The Little Bear. You’re good,” he told me, I took a moment to wonder who the ef Roam and Sniff were then he finished. “Now, I’m takin’ a shower.”

  Shirleen got a huge grin on her face at the idea of Mace taking a shower. The rest of The Rock Chicks shuffled uncomfortably because they knew they shouldn’t be there but in a one room apartment, there was nowhere else to be.

  I moved toward Mace as he came at me to get to the bathroom.

  I put out my hand, caught his forearm and said, “Mace, we need to talk.”

  He stopped, looked at my hand then at me, face hard, voice low and vibrating with anger. “Done talkin’, babe.”

  Sharp, hard gut kick.

  Effing hell.

  My hand dropped, he kept moving, entered the bathroom and shut the door behind him.

  I stared at the door.

  The Rock Chicks stared at the door.

  We heard the shower go on.

  “Oowee,” Shirleen whispered reverently.

  “Time to go,” Jules announced.

  “Stella –” Jet said.

  “Time to go,” Indy was staring pointedly at Jet.

  Jet stared back.

  Indy jerked her head once toward the door.

  Jet jerked hers back but this looked like it was to communicate a negative.

  I got the feeling they were having a conversation without words but I didn’t want to know what they were saying.

  What I wanted to know was what Mace was thinking.

  Shitsofuckit!

  He was screwing with my head without even trying to screw with my head.

  Or maybe I was screwing with my own head.

  Juno shoved her nose in my belly, a hard to miss doggie cry for breakfast.

  “Okay, baby, breakfast,” I told her, giving her a behind the ears scratch.

  Her tongue lolled out happily.

  On that, Ally gave me an arm squeeze. “Later Stella.”

  “See you at the gig,” Ava called on a wave.

  “We didn’t get any coffee,” Annette noted then, at a look from Roxie, she gave up on coffee, smiled at me and gave me a peace sign.

  “We’ll talk later,” Jet promised on her own wave.

  “Knock ‘em dead,” Jules said.

  “Don’t forget the meeting,” Shirleen warned.

  “Bring the band,” Daisy reminded me.

  “Hang in there,” Roxie called before blowing me a kiss.

  Only Indy got close and gave me a hug.

  “You’ll be all right and he’ll be all right. I promise. No bullshit. Everything will be all right,” she whispered in my ear then pulled away and looked in my eyes. “Yeah?” she finished softly.

  “Yeah,” I replied, even though I didn’t believe her, I wanted to.

  She touched her cheek to mine and whispered, “Later, girl.”

  Then all the Rock Chicks were gone.

  I made my dog breakfast and poured myself a coffee but all the while I did it, my head was in the shower.

  Therefore, when Mace got out of the shower, I was standing in the kitchen, a half-drunk cup of coffee in my hand, Juno’s heavy body lying on my feet and my eyes were on the door.

  I watched as he moved toward his bags, pulled out some fresh clothes and then yanked off the towel. I held my breath at the sight of him but I didn’t get a very long look. He dressed in record time and walked back to the bathroom.

  I stayed where I was, a feeling of dread stealing over me.

  Something was not right and it was more than its usual under-threat-of-being-murdered not right.

  Mace came back out, tossed his boots by the platform, shoved his clothes in his bag, pulled out a pair of socks and then zipped the bag closed.

  Oh yes.

  Something was not right.

  That feeling of dread grew.

  He sat on the platform again to put on his socks and boots.

  “Mace –” I started, what I was going to say, I didn’t know but I didn’t get the chance.

  “The boys’ll cover you today,” he told me, not looking up from what he was doing.

  “Mace –”

  “I’ll have my shit outta here by the time you get back.”

  I felt my mouth fill with saliva, that feeling of dread building and spreading so fast I was paralyzed.

  I fought the paralysis and whispered, “Mace –” yet again.

  “I’ll call Turner and tell him he’s up.”

  My hand not holding the coffee cup came down and gripped the counter.

  “Eric?” I asked.

  Mace stood and looked at me. “You know another Turner?”

  I shook my head even though I probably did. I knew a lot of people.

  Mace put his tongue to his teeth and gave a sharp whistle.

  Juno shot up, trotted to him and Mace bent over and gave her a full doggie rubdown.

  A final, farewell full doggie rubdown.

  This isn’t right, my brain sounded panicked and confused.

  “Mace –” I started again.

  Mace stopped rubbing Juno down and headed toward his bag.

  “Stay well, Stella,” he said, not looking at me, bending to his bag and lifting up, throwing the strap over his shoulder and turning to the door.

  Oh my God, this isn’t right! My brain screamed.

  I had to do something. Anything. And I had to do it quick.

  “I broke my arm when I was twelve. Fell off my bike,” I blurted.

  Mace stopped on his way to the door. His side to me, he only turned his head when he looked at me.

  I swallowed. “When I got home, my Mom was gone, I don’t know where. My Dad was the only one there.”

  Mace didn’t move and didn’t speak.

  My breath wasn’t taking a hike, it was coming fast and scared. All thoughts of wanting Mace out of my life were gone.

  Poof.

  Vanished.

  “Dad didn’t –” I began but Mace interrupted me by shaking his head.

  “Too late,” he told me and my stomach clenched.

  “Let me finish,” I whispered, Mace shook his head but I kept talking. “My arm was hanging funny, it hurt so much I thought I’d pass out from the pain. You’d think that’s all I would remember –”

  “Too late,” Mace said again.

  “But it wasn’t what I remembered.” I pressed on. “He was so pissed. Dad was. He was watching some golf tournament on TV and he was pissed at me because he had to take me to the hospital instead of –”

  Mace interrupted me again. His body turned toward me and his voice was back to low and vibrating in that scary way. “Too fuckin’ late.”

  “Don’t go,” I whispered, changing tactics, my head coming together, my thoughts, for the first time in days, finally clear and focused.

  I knew what I was doing, letting him have sex with me, sleep with me, move in with me. I knew I was doing it because I wanted it, I wanted him. Actions speak louder than words but I’d so wrapped myself in that cotton wool Floyd told me about, I didn’t hear the muffled communication.

  I held my breath.

  Mace stared at me.

  I stared
back.

  “Please, don’t go,” I said again.

  Part of me expected him to grin in triumph, come forward, pull me in his arms and kiss me.

  I decided I’d have to act pissed off for awhile and then, once I gave him a load of shit, I’d let it go.

  Instead, his mouth got tight, he turned on his boot, and he muttered, “For fuck’s sake, arm the alarm.”

  Then he was gone.

  My body was twisted in order to look over my shoulder at the closed door.

  What just happened? My shocked brain asked.

  I didn’t answer.

  I knew what just happened.

  I slid down the cupboard, put my coffee cup beside me on the floor, closed my eyes and pressed my forehead into my knees.

  I felt Juno pushing her nose into my neck, giving doggie comfort as best she could but I didn’t turn to her.

  Instead, I slid straight into the place that knew me well.

  I slid directly into black.

  * * * * *

  The gig was almost over.

  The Rock Chicks were sitting at tables up front and center, all of them looking subdued and a little worried.

  The Hot Bunch, Tex and Duke were all on duty, guarding the doors, the stage, wandering the crowd. I’d seen them all.

  All of them.

  But Mace.

  Even though the show was shit (all my fault and I knew it), the crowd was preparing for “Ghostriders”.

  Instead, I pulled my arm in a sweep in front of me, disengaging my guitar strap from my shoulders. I set my guitar in its stand and walked across the dusty, faded rugs that covered The Little Bear’s stage. I sat next to Floyd on the piano bench. He was staring at me, his eyes startled.

  For the past four hours, the entire band and The Rock Chicks had all tried to get through to me. I was so deep in black; I just went through the motions like an automaton. I didn’t know what they asked, I didn’t know what they said, I didn’t even know my own replies.

  I leaned into Floyd and whispered in his ear.

  He put his hand over the microphone. “Stella, girl –”

  I closed my eyes tight then opened them and looked into his.

  “Just do it,” I begged.

  He gave me a long look, nodded to the band then started playing.

  The room went silent in shock.

  I looked at the rafters, blindly taking in the trademark Little Bear bras nailed to them then I pulled Floyd’s microphone my way, closed my eyes and started singing.

  And what I sang was Billy Joel’s, “And So It Goes.”

  And I sang it for Mace who wasn’t even there but I did it anyway because nothing said what I needed to say better than those beautiful, heartbroken lyrics.

  Floyd played the final notes to the song and I kept my eyes closed, waiting.

  Waiting.

  Waiting and hoping.

  I opened my eyes and looked at the crowd.

  The minute I did, they roared with applause.

  But it didn’t hit me the way it normally did.

  Because Mace wasn’t there.

  He didn’t charge up to the stage, taking me in his arms and telling me beautiful things.

  “Stella, girl –” Floyd whispered but that was it. I was done. I’d done it to myself this time, I had no one else to blame.

  For some insane reason, I got up and ran across the small stage, jumped down and started pushing through the crowd. I felt nothing, I knew nothing, I just knew I had to go, where, I had no idea, I just had to go.

  I could feel hands on me, tugging at me. I heard my name called in familiar voices. I knew one was Hector’s, the other was Duke’s.

  But I was gone. Through the crowd to the doors. I felt freedom but it was far from sweet right before I was caught, my momentum meaning I was lifted up, swung around and put down. I looked behind me and up to see I’d been caught and was now held by Bobby, one of Lee’s men.

  “Shit, woman, what’re you thinkin’?” Bobby’s voice was annoyed.

  I didn’t answer.

  I struggled to get away, kicking and grunting and then something happened.

  Bobby was no longer struggling with me. He let me go and he was struggling with someone else, a big bulky man, bigger and bulkier even than Bobby and Bobby was enormous.

  Then Luke was there and he barreled into another man. With a shoulder to the other man’s belly, Luke lifted him clean off his feet and slammed him against the wooden railing outside The Little Bear. The man flipped, feet-over-head, over the railing, landing on his back and cracking his skull with a sickening thud against the pavement. Luke turned toward me but there were more men, one came at him then more people were there, including Hector, Lee and more suited men and all of them were engaged in hand-to-hand combat.

  Before I could get my wits about me, I felt hard, firm fingers attach on my upper arm. I gave a surprised cry right before I was yanked down the wooden plank steps and before I knew what was happening, I was thrown into the backseat of a waiting, long, sleek, black limousine.

  The door closed behind me and the limousine shot away.

  I realized I was holding my breath and I turned to see there was someone in the backseat with me.

  He was very tall, lean, well-built, on the other side of middle-aged, black hair peppered with silver and wearing in an expensive suit, expensive cufflinks and an expensive watch.

  Oh, and last but not least, he had clear, sharp, achingly familiar jade green eyes.

  I stared at him with my mouth open while he spoke.

  “Hello Stella. I’m Preston Mason, Kai’s father.”

  Oh dear.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I’m Not Good Enough for Him

  Stella

  “I’m supposed to be in a meeting,” I told Preston Mason because I couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  I had, actually, been half-assedly planning to get out of the meeting with Dixon Jones by feigning a migraine or a heart attack or something but now I kind of wish I’d made the meeting with Jones. I figured he’d be a lot easier to deal with than a surprise kidnapping by Mace’s apparently super wealthy Dad.

  “You’ll need to reschedule,” he replied.

  I decided to push. “It’s kind of important.”

  He calmly adjusted the cuff of his impeccable light blue shirt under the sleeve of his equally impeccable dark blue suit jacket.

  “I’m afraid you’ll have to reschedule.”

  I sat back as the limousine took a curve on the mountain road.

  The Little Bear was in Evergreen, a mountain town that managed to be hip, cool, exclusive and a Harley boy hangout all at the same time it looked just a smidge shy of being the type of place where gunslingers would still have showdowns at high noon.

  I effing loved Evergreen. It was as rock ‘n’ roll as you could get (according to me).

  “Erm,” I ventured carefully. “Did you just kidnap me?”

  His jade eyes came to me. “Yes.”

  Wow.

  Well one thing was certain, even if I didn’t have the eyes as proof, Preston Mason was as straight talking arrogant as his son.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “We need to talk about Kai.”

  “I don’t want to talk about Kai.”

  And I didn’t.

  Furthermore, I didn’t want to call him “Kai”. It felt weird. I felt weird enough as it was, I didn’t want to feel weirder. If I felt any more weird, my mind might spin off into an alternate reality and live there the rest of my life, my body still in real reality, lying in a coma, confounding doctors who would eventually turn off life support and then where would I be?

  “How well do you know Kai?” Preston Mason took me out of my crazed thoughts and my eyes focused on him again.

  “Um…” I hedged because this was a good question.

  Biblically, one could say I was a “Kai Expert”. All other ways it was up for debate.

  “I feel I should warn you, my son i
s not a good man.”

  I sat and stared at him in complete and total shock.

  Then I said the hated word, “What?”

  “He’s responsible for his sister’s murder, amongst other things.”

  Gut kick.

  So huge and savage my body jerked with it.

  Mace’s sister was murdered?

  Visions of Mace’s face swam in my head, the demons dancing in his eyes. Mace telling me he could understand what I meant about my father.

  And meaning it.

  Holy effing hell.

  Mace’s sister was murdered.

  “Mace’s sister, your daughter, was murdered?” I whispered.

  He studied me and it made me uncomfortable. The eyes were familiar but they were also completely different. There was nothing behind them, no emotion, even when he was talking about his daughter’s murder.

  For your information, this creeped me way the hell out.

  “Don’t you read the papers?” he asked me.

  “I haven’t had the chance,” I replied.

  “It’s all lies,” he said.

  “What’s lies?”

  “All of it.”

  “What, exactly?”

  He changed the subject. “I want you out of his life.”

  This threw me because I hadn’t come to terms with the last mental blow he’d dealt.

  “Out of whose life?” I asked stupidly.

  Preston Mason’s eyes narrowed. “Kai’s.”

  “Why?”

  “Do you know who I am?”

  I shook my head but said, “You’re Mace’s father.”

  I watched his lip curl right before he asked, “How stupid are you?”

  Now I was getting angry.

  What was with this guy?

  He kidnaps me and then he’s mean to me?

  What was up with that?

  “What’s with you?” I snapped.

  “I know how stupid you are, 2.5 grade point average, you skipped just enough school so you could graduate, too much to learn anything. You didn’t go to college. Your father’s a welder; your mother’s been a waitress for twenty-five years. Neither of them went to college either.”

  “So?”

  “So, Kai graduated with honors from the University of Hawaii with a bachelor’s in civil engineering.”

  Yowza.

  Civil engineering?

  That sounded hard.

  I shook off thoughts of Mace beavering away at his studies using a protractor (or whatever they needed for civil engineering), forged ahead and clipped, “So?”