Then my band stepped up to their mics and sang the title of the song as I kept singing.
As we played, the crowd swayed but I kept my eyes on Indy and Lee.
Then when I started singing about them beating the odds together, Indy turned to Lee. He had an arm wrapped around her, his other hand went to her jaw, her arms were around his waist, her head tilted back and she sang the rest of the song with me but to her husband.
Hugo’s keyboards played as the band sang their “oo’s” when I watched Lee’s head dip low so his forehead was resting against Indy’s and they both closed their eyes and held onto each other.
I started singing again, Indy’s eyes opened and so did Lee’s, his hand slid down to her neck, his thumb stroking her jaw as she kept singing right along with me.
The band went silent and I finished with just my guitar as Indy kept singing to Lee but my eyes moved to Mace, they locked with his and I sang the last two lines of the song direct to him.
I stopped singing and the guests cheered, Ally and Daisy let out catcalls and Tex gave a war whoop.
Mace just shook his head.
Then he smiled.
I smiled back.
Indy and Lee weren’t cheering, they were making out, again.
It was the best present I’d ever given in my life.
The band didn’t hesitate. Hugo moved to the bongos and started the rhythm, Floyd started to play piano and I took the microphone in my hand.
“Enough of that,” I said to the guests, looked back at the band and shouted, “Let’s roll.”
And that’s when we played Joe Cocker’s “Feelin’ Alright”.
Everyone started dancing, even Indy and Lee began to sway with the music. When it was time for the chorus, the entire crowd put their hands into the air sang it with us.
Floyd was laying it down when my eyes found Mace’s. He was standing with Luke and Vance but he was smiling at me in a way that was heart wrenchingly familiar.
It was the same, sweet, unguarded smile he wore in the photo of him and Caitlin I saw in the paper.
I was “onstage” so, unfortunately, all I could do was smile back.
But in my head, I gave one of the dying demons a last, vicious, sucker kick to the gut.
Then I focused on rock ‘n’ roll.
We went from Cocker to Three Dog Night and played “Shambala” then on to The Doobie’s “Jesus Is Just Alright”. After that, I let Buzz take one and he sang America’s “Sister Golden Hair”. Then we turned it up a couple notches, going straight into Boston’s “Peace of Mind”. Finally, I strapped on my mouth organ and we finished with one of our signature songs, the Black Rebel Motorcycle Club’s, stomping, twanging, kickass “Ain’t No Easy Way”.
With our “thank you’s” said into the mics, we left the instruments but the guests shouted and hooted until we were forced to go back and do an encore of “Ghostriders in the Sky”.
For your information, the vibe of the set list was the happiest we’d ever played.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Swen and Ulrika Are Gonna Be Pissed
Stella
Mace and I were in an Explorer on the way to my apartment after the reception and I was riding a killer happy buzz.
I was with my man, I loved him, he loved me, he was holding my hand against his thigh, my band was going to head to the studio for recording time on an impending recording contract, two people I cared about just had a kickass wedding and no one had been shot at or kidnapped all day.
“Happy buzz,” I muttered to the window, grinning at it like a lunatic.
“What?” Mace asked as he turned onto my street.
I looked to him. “Happy buzz.”
He glanced at me briefly, his beautiful jade eyes smiling, then back at the road.
I tested the boundaries of my seatbelt to lean into him, pulling my fingers from his hold only to curl them around his thigh; I kissed his strong, square jaw as I heard him engage the turn signal before pulling into my drive.
“Never been happier, babe,” I whispered, my lips moving against his jaw.
Mace didn’t reply but I felt his jaw get hard under my lips.
This surprised me so I pulled back a bit, looked at his hard profile then followed the direction of angry gaze and saw a limousine at the end of the drive.
Shitsofuckit.
As we pulled up, the backdoor opened and Preston Mason folded out of the backseat.
Just as I suspected.
Shitsofuckit!
“Great,” I muttered. “If anyone could kill this happy buzz, The Supreme Asshole of All Time could do it.”
Mace ignored my comment and ordered, “Stay in the truck,” as he came to a halt then put the SUV in neutral and set the brake without turning off the ignition.
“Mace –” I started, thinking good advice would be to suggest he ignore his father, I ignore his father, we walk in, forget he existed, resume the happy buzz and get on with our night which would consist of making our happy buzz way happier.
He turned to me and gave me a look.
I shut up.
He threw open his door and angled out of the SUV.
I sat and watched him approach his father. Then I sat and watched him have words with his father. Then I sat and glared at his father as his condescending gaze came to me. Then I sat and watched as Mace’s eyes did a sweep of the area while his father jabbered, probably being a serious dick, before Mace’s hand came up abruptly, palm out. Preston clamped his mouth shut and Mace turned and strode angrily to the truck.
He yanked open the door and reached into the ignition but his eyes were on me.
“Inside, babe,” he ordered, I nodded then he went on. “Wait for me to get to your door.”
I undid my seatbelt and Mace switched off the ignition, pulled out the keys and rounded the hood, his head turned to his father, his deep voice sounding though I couldn’t make out what he said. Then Mace made it around, pulled open my door and put his hand to my arm to help me out. Then he marched me to the side door where Preston was waiting.
Fabulous. Now we were going to have unwelcome company in my pad.
I tried to shoot daggers out of my eyes at Preston Mason as Mace and I approached but unfortunately this didn’t work though that didn’t mean I quit.
Eventually I had to give up when Mace got the side door open and propelled me inside with his hand now at the small of my back and I had to start concentrating on walking up two flights of steps in high heels without falling on my face.
We made it to my apartment successfully without me turning and giving Preston what for for ruining my happy buzz but worse, pissing Mace off when I knew he too was experiencing a happy buzz, Mace-style. And a Mace-style happy buzz when I was in close proximity usually included me getting laid, thoroughly and very, very well which made it even harder for me not to let loose on his dick of a Dad.
Mace dealt with the alarm and I saw Juno was lying on the bed, clearly tuckered out from a day of sleeping. She woofed at us in greeting but made no move. She did, however, train her doggie eyes on Preston in a confused but alert way and it was good to know my dog could read a different kind of vibe, one she’d never had to read before and that was when her people didn’t much like someone.
I moved around to turn on lights and as I did this, Preston murmured, “Charming.”
I stopped turning on lights and looked to him to see he was studying my space and obviously didn’t think much of it.
Seriously, Mace’s Dad was a dick. My apartment was small, sure, but it still rocked.
“Kitten, do me a favor,” I heard Mace say and my annoyed gaze went to him to see he was talking to me but his eyes were locked on his Dad, “get changed in the bathroom and hang there, do your thing, give us some time.”
Um.
Hell no.
I had not just been through two weeks of the emotional ringer to end all emotional ringers, letting Mace back in my heart, trusting him, finding out what happ
ened to Caitlin and taking our future in my hands to reunite him with his family only to have his dick of a Dad give him shit without me taking his back.
Unh-unh.
No way.
“No,” I replied and Mace’s eyes sliced to me. I knew he was ticked, hell, even if I just met him, the look on his face would tell me he was ticked so I quickly explained, “No one fucks with my man.”
Mace drew in a breath but some of the anger slid from his face.
Then he started, “Stella –”
“No, Mace. Your Dad is a dick and he’s not gonna be a dick to you without me at your back.” Then before Mace could reply, I turned to Preston and stated, “We’ve had a really, really good day and those have been few and far between lately so say what you have to say and then get out so we can forget you exist and get on with making it a really, really good night.”
Juno woofed her agreement to my invitation and Preston’s lip curled at my insinuation.
“Well?” I prompted when Preston didn’t speak and I walked to Mace then didn’t give him a choice as I burrowed a shoulder under his armpit so he had to wrap his arm around me. When he did this, I wrapped one arm around his back and rested my other hand on his abs.
Preston studied us and his lip stayed curled.
Then he replied, “I assume you’re not going to offer me a drink.”
Totally a dick.
“Sure, I’ll offer you a drink,” I told him. “If you’re here to apologize to Mace for being The Supreme Asshole of All Time, beg his forgiveness and promise to dedicate all your energies to philanthropic work from today until the day you die. No, if you’re here to continue to be a dick.”
Preston looked at his son. “Seriously, Kai, is this your choice?” he asked, throwing a hand out to me.
Mace’s body went rock-solid.
Oh shit.
“Moving on!” I declared quickly then to Preston, “Say your piece and go.”
Preston looked back at me. “Fine, Stella, but I advise you not to be here when I say my piece, as you so eloquently put it.”
I opened my mouth to speak but didn’t get a word out.
“Your cracks at Stella end right fuckin’ now,” Mace growled, Preston’s eyes went to his son and so did mine and I knew Mace pretty well, I loved him and I hoped to spend the rest of my life with him but that didn’t mean his look wasn’t really freaking scary.
That said, it was also hot and he was pissed on my behalf so it also felt really freaking good.
I turned my eyes back to Preston, trying hard not to smirk only to see he had entered a staring contest with Mace.
This went on awhile.
Considering father and son clearly had a life edict that included “never say die” I lost patience and snapped, “Seriously! Let’s get on with this.”
Preston’s eyes slid to me, his jaw got hard then he looked back at Mace.
“I think you know you’re treading on thin ice,” he announced.
“I do?” Mace asked.
“Don’t be stupid, Kai,” Preston whispered. “You never were before, except once and it ended in tragedy, don’t do it again.”
If Mace’s body was rock-solid before, it was marble now but I didn’t really notice since my vision exploded in sparks of red and I instantly decided I was done. I didn’t know why he was there. I didn’t know why Mace allowed him to come up.
And, at that moment, I also didn’t effing care.
“Get out of my house,” I hissed and Preston looked to me.
“You don’t –” he began.
“Get… the fuck… out… of my house!” I bit out.
“The receptionist at his place of business dealt drugs,” Preston informed me.
“Get out of my house,” I kind of repeated.
“Her nephew, Kai’s colleague, was in business with her,” Preston went on.
Really?
Darius?
Yikes.
Oh well. Past tense. If it didn’t bother Mace (which obviously it didn’t), it didn’t bother me.
And anyway, Darius was cool.
“Get out of my house,” I repeated again.
Preston continued, “His organization was involved in a clandestine operation which culminated in an officer employed by the Denver Police Department discharging a weapon and wounding a man, something that has never been reported to the police.”
Oh dear. That probably wasn’t good and it was probably worse Preston knew about it.
I powered through my worry and again demanded, “Get out of my house.”
“His employer is on retainer with Marcus Sloan, shady dealings with a man who is not shady but entirely criminal, running guns and peddling flesh.”
Yikes again!
Marcus ran guns and peddled flesh?
Whoa.
Preston wasn’t done. “And the wife of one of his co-workers filed fraudulent reports with Child Protective Services in order to place two runaways with a known felon.”
Well, at least I knew about that one.
I quit repeating myself and just glared at him.
Preston held my glare and stated, “Routinely, a man in Lee Nightingale’s employ performs illegal hacks not only on private accounts but also on local, state and federal government sites.”
I wasn’t a computer person so I thought that was actually kind of cool.
Obviously I didn’t share that.
Then, softly, he said, “The man you cling to so desperately has taken lives.”
My glare intensified.
I was hardly clinging to Mace desperately. Lovingly, definitely. Supportively, sure. Desperately, no.
“Many of them,” Preston whispered.
He fell silent so I asked, “Are you done?”
“No,” he replied and looked at Mace. “Your play, son, is to speak to Nightingale, tell him to agree to my investment. I obtain controlling interest in Nightingale Investigations, I clean up the cesspool that is your business, take out the trash including Darius Tucker, Vance Crowe, Luke Stark and that hideous receptionist, all of whom, due to their past activities and associations, leave much to be desired. You’ll keep your job because, clearly,” he threw out a hand again, “your woman cannot provide for you if you should need to get back on your feet, which you will, considering the fact you just gave six thousand dollars to her family which significantly depleted your reserve. Then Nightingale steps aside and I call the shots.”
Uh-oh.
I felt my body get tight.
Mace spoke.
“You’re saying you’ll leak this information if I don’t do as you say.”
Preston nodded. “Chavez will lose his job and he’ll not find one on my payroll when I take over Nightingale Investigations. He might even face charges. Shirleen Jackson will lose custodial care and those boys will either go back to the streets or into the system. Juliet Crowe will also find herself unemployed. Brody Dunne and Lee Nightingale will likely be questioned and possibly arrested for their activities –”
Mace cut him off, “That all you got?”
I felt my body jerk seeing as I thought all this sounded pretty bad. I looked up at him to see his face was bland, almost uninterested, as if this information wasn’t damning and more than a little scary but instead Preston was telling him that he knew Lee and his boys had trampled a few flowers in a public garden for shits and giggles.
“Kai –” Preston started but Mace didn’t let him get any further.
“First, you should know that Stella’s place is wired, cameras with microphones. Your blackmail attempt was caught on tape.”
Preston’s body gave a small start, almost imperceptible but I caught it and I also held my breath.
“I –” Preston began again but Mace’s head turned away from him, the movement so sudden, Preston stopped speaking.
Mace looked at something across the room, what, I didn’t know then he looked back at his father.
“Cameras are off now, Dad,” he said quietly
and I again tensed. “Now, it’s just you and me and this is what I got.”
Oh man.
I figured what Mace had was probably a lot so I settled in but I did it while I braced.
“Brody’s good, you know that so you shoulda been a lot smarter.” Mace was still talking quietly, I was thinking his quiet was not an indication he felt he had the situation under control but instead an indication that he was close to losing his mind at having to deal with this bullshit or his father at all and I bit my lip. “You know I know you fucked up. You know I know what you did that got Caitlin killed. You fuckin’ know.”
“I didn’t do a thing to –”
Mace interrupted, “Oh yeah you did.”
“Not one thing, Kai,” Preston clipped.
“Arms, Dad,” Mace returned.
Oh man.
Arms?
As in weapons?
What the ef?
“There’s not a shred of evidence to support that,” Preston retorted swiftly, now also talking quietly but his face had shifted, gone more vigilant, surprisingly giving it all away.
“There isn’t?” Mace asked and I watched Preston’s body straighten.
Mace kept going.
“What you don’t know is that we know that you haven’t stopped what you were doin’ to get Caitlin killed.”
“Kai –”
“Government contracts you got for your munitions plants, Dad, probably the Feds won’t be real thrilled to know your guns that are supposed to be in the hands of our boys in uniform are also finding themselves in the hands of not only enemy factions but seven terrorist sects.”
Oh my God!
“APM Holdings have absolutely no dealings in munitions,” Preston replied.
“You’re right,” Mace agreed then disagreed, “But you do.”
Oh. My. God!
“Nonsense,” Preston returned.
Mace studied his father, he did this for several long beats, I waited while consciously breathing because I knew something had changed, something was not right, my man was struggling.
Then I knew why when he whispered, “They blew her head off.”
I pressed closer to Mace and held on harder.
Preston paled but his eyes narrowed before he replied, “And whose fault was that?”
Rock Chick Reckoning Page 46