Maybe he did.
Then I was flipped onto my back and Luke was on top.
“Hey!” I snapped. “I was celebrating.”
“Probably
you
should
celebrate
after
you’ve
incapacitated your target,” he told me.
“I was thinking you might want to have a family one day,” I returned.
He laughed in my face. I frowned in his.
“Babe, you weren’t even close. Though, you wanna be, I’d give it a shot.”
“Stop flirting with me,” I snapped.
“Stop bein’ so cute,” he shot back.
The treadmil came on and both of us looked to it and saw Mace jogging. It was then I realized I was lying on the floor with Luke on top of me having a conversation.
Damn.
“Don’t mind me,” Mace said, face no longer blank. I didn’t know him very wel and he normal y looked like he was in a bad mood (Mace was Mr. Seriously Broody Hot Guy Badass) but now he looked like he was going to laugh.
“You have a big mouth,” I told him, turning my snit on him.
He jacked up the speed on the treadmil and the jog went to a run. He was completely unaffected by my snit.
“Too good not to share,” was al he said, knowing exactly what I was talking about.
“You’re on my list,” I said to Mace and then looked at Luke, “you too.”
“What list?” Luke asked.
“My Annoying Men I’m Going to Kil List.”
Luke rol ed to his side and came up on an elbow. He was flat out smiling now.
“Why me?” he asked.
“Just because,” I retorted and got to my feet.
I looked at Mace. “If you told Dawn, I’m going to torture you before I kil you.”
“Dawn doesn’t know,” Mace said, amused look gone.
“Dawn’s not gonna know,” Luke said, on his feet too.
Wel that was something.
Luke threw his arm around my shoulders. “Let’s get a beer,” he said and he walked me out of the room.
I didn’t argue mainly because I could use a beer.
* * * * *
We went to Lincoln’s Road House for beer and dinner (it would seem Luke had been right, I was hungry). Lincoln’s was a biker bar on a slip road facing I-25. It had great food, a broken-in feel, hot guys, women wearing chaps and slick bikes of every make, model and color lined up on the side road that flanked the bar.
They had a band so we watched it for awhile.
Then we got in a big fight about who was going to pay because I figured if he paid, it’d be a date and Luke figured he was a man with a significant overabundance of testosterone so he was going to pay no matter what (this wasn’t exactly his argument, more my take on the underlying message).
People started staring.
I shut up.
Luke paid.
Then we went on patrol.
* * * * *
This time at my door after patrol, keys held firmly and at the ready, I shouldered up to the door and let myself in. Before I could claim the doorway and keep him out, Luke shoved me in with a hand at the smal of my back, closed the door behind us and unarmed the alarm.
Then he walked through my living room.
“I’m tired, Luke,” I told his back.
He disappeared into the dark hal .
I sighed, turned on a lamp, shrugged off my blazer, threw it on the chaise and fol owed him into the kitchen.
The light was on and Boo was tel ing on me because I’d run out of kitty treats and hadn’t been to the grocery store.
Luckily Luke didn’t speak Cat and seemed to have the Super Dude super-power to be total y oblivious to Boo’s meows.
Luke handed me an opened beer when I walked in and then he settled his hips against the counter, arms crossed on his chest, lifting his forearm to take a pul off his beer every once in awhile.
We didn’t speak.
For my part, this was mainly because the only thing I could think to talk about was whether Vance was back in town or not. And I wasn’t going to do that.
For Luke’s part, on the whole, he didn’t talk much.
Final y Luke spoke. “Tomorrow, you’re off. Monday, I’m workin’ and you’re ride-along.”
I nodded, drank some of my beer, settled my hips against the counter and looked at my boots. I was happy about ride-along. It was something to look forward to in a future that, al of a sudden, seemed kind of bleak. I never thought about my future. I lived life day-to-day. I thought a lot about everyone else’s future, Roam and Sniff, Nick, but not my own.
Luke’s boots came into my line of vision and I looked up.
He was close. He set his beer bottle on the counter beside me, pul ed mine out of my hand and put it next to his.
Then before I knew what he was about, his fingers curled around my wrists, he lifted my arms, got deep into my space, wrapped my wrists around his neck and his face started coming toward mine.
“What are you…?” I started then stopped.
His hands slid down the undersides of my arms and a thril shot through me before he (I kid you not) kissed me.
I felt his hands glide down my sides, around my back, low and he pul ed me to him.
It was a great kiss. It was a hot kiss. There was a goodly amount of tongue and Luke seriously knew what he was doing.
But it wasn’t a Vance kiss.
I participated. I don’t know why, maybe because I thought it was safe but also because it felt real y nice.
Luke’s head came up and he stared at me.
Then he muttered, “Fuck.”
“What?” I asked, keeping my arms around his neck, he stil had his around my back.
“You taste like bubble gum.”
My stomach went into a painful twist and I slid my hands to his chest, putting my arms between us and pushing back a bit. He al owed this but his arms got tight when he was done al owing it, his message was clear and I stopped.
“Vance told me you’re playing games,” I said to Luke.
“Vance would know about games,” Luke said back.
“Please don’t talk about him like that,” I whispered. “You don’t understand what happened.”
“I understand.”
“You don’t.”
“Babe.”
The way he said that made me shut up.
“I’m thinkin’ you should train with Mace from now on,” he said.
Um.
Yikes.
What did that mean?
I decided I didn’t want to know and this was mostly denial because I did know.
“I’m thinking that maybe training is a waste of time,” I told him. “I’m hardly going to get into hand-to-hand combat with these guys doing guerril a maneuvers.”
“You’re on the street you need to be ready for anything.” I rol ed my eyes. Drama.
“It wasn’t like it was before, Jules. They’re gonna be gunnin’ for you now,” he said to my eye rol .
I had to admit, he was probably right.
“Al right,” I said, giving in.
“You stil do ride-along with me.”
“Okay,” I agreed immediately.
At that, he grinned.
I realized his arms were stil around me and my hands were stil on his chest. I pushed back and he let me go, touched my nose then he was gone.
I did the getting-ready-for-bed gig, promised Boo I’d buy him treats tomorrow (and mental y added beer to my grocery list) and lay in bed waiting for Vance to break in.
He didn’t.
The longer I waited, the more my chest got tight, the more I had to practice deep-breathing in order not to cry.
It was my decision to break up with Vance. I made it. I carried it through. It was better for me, I knew it.
The problem was, lying in bed, alone in the moonlight, I didn’t believe me anymore.
Chapter Eighte
en
Pizza, Football and Facials
From somewhere far away I heard my phone ringing.
With effort I dragged myself out of a deep sleep to hear the voice after my answering machine message.
“Babe, pick up the phone.”
Luke.
I rol ed over and reached up to the high alcove next to the bed and dragged down the phone.
“What?” I said into it.
“Get dressed. We got a takedown. Be there in five.” Disconnect.
I laid there with my phone to my ear for a second then blinked up at the clock. It was after two in the morning.
Luke had a takedown. That meant they were going after a bad guy. That also meant that Luke wanted me to come with them.
I threw back the covers, Boo screeched, “Meow!” and I swung off the bed.
* * * * *
It was Sunday night (Monday morning, real y) and I’d had a day of no rest. It was another shit day, post-Vance, stil no word, no sign, nothing.
I’d woken up that morning after the Luke Kiss, dragged myself out of bed, dragged on my clothes and dragged my ass to the grocery store to get cat treats and the makings for quesadil as.
I had no idea what was in a quesadil a, or how to make one but I guessed. I bought a bunch of other stuff too.
While rol ing my cart through the grocery store I decided to learn how to cook. I was going to take a new lease on life. I was going to be the New Jules. I was going to learn to cook. I was going to be a better mama to Boo. I might even learn to knit. I was going to be a domestic goddess, super-social worker by day and a drug dealer ass-kicker by night.
I was going to fil every second with new, golden opportunities. I was going to take on the kitchen, make my cat the happiest cat on the planet, buy myself some knitting needles and then take on the world.
On the way home, I stopped by the liquor store and bought more Fat Tire.
I went home and gave Boo enough kitty treats to send him into a kitty treat coma. He got al purry and then flopped down in a sunbeam on the chaise lounge and didn’t move for hours.
I was cleaning the house and baking brownies from a box (starting smal ) when a knock came at the door.
It was Daisy.
It wasn’t just Daisy. It was Daisy carrying an overnight bag.
“Are you moving in?” I asked, staring at the bag.
“Home facial!” she shouted, shoved me aside and walked in.
She dumped the overnight bag down on my couch and started to pul out jars, bottles, towels, sprays and al sorts of stuff.
“Put on a camisole, I’m doin’ the neck too,” she ordered.
“Daisy, I’m in the middle of cleaning the house.”
“You can clean the house any ole time. Now’s a special time. Now’s facial time.”
“I’ve never had a facial,” I told her.
Her head snapped up from looking at the bag and her eyes bugged out at me. “Never had a facial?” she asked, like I said I’d never breathed oxygen outside of my little bubble room.
I shook my head.
She snapped at me with her fingers. “Camisole. Now.” I put away the window cleaner and put on a camisole.
I was lying on my couch, a big pil ow from my bed under my head and shoulders, a towel draped over the pil ow, mud-colored gunk smudged al over my neck and face, cotton wipes doused in lavender water on my eyes, when there was another knock on the door.
I sat up and the cotton wipes fel into my lap. Daisy was sitting in my armchair, foot on my pub set, painting her toenails. I was supposed to be relaxing and letting the facemask dry.
“Get that, wil you, Sugar? I’m wet,” Daisy said, not looking up.
I rol ed off the couch, tossed the wipes on a towel on the pub set, walked across the room and opened the door.
“Fuckin’ A, Law. What’s al over your face?” Tex was standing at my door.
I stared at him. “What are you doing here?”
“Came by with these,” he said, indicating an old, beat up workout bag he was carrying and he shoved inside. “Yo, Daisy,” he cal ed to Daisy.
“Yo, Tex,” Daisy cal ed back then she stuck her tongue to the side of her mouth and concentrated on her toenails again.
“What’s this?” I asked as Tex dumped the workout bag by the chaise.
“Tear gas. You don’t have to use ‘em but they ain’t goin’
nowhere at my place. Thought I’d drop ‘em by, just in case.
What’s that smel ? Somethin’ burnin’?”
Damn.
“My brownies!” I yel ed and ran to the kitchen.
The brownies were burned to a crisp. Total disaster. I set them on the stove top and walked back into the living room.
Tex was lying on the chaise, stroking Boo who was lying smack in the middle of Tex’s big, barrel chest. They both looked like they were going to stay awhile.
“You got a cat,” he told me like I didn’t know.
“That’s Boo.”
“Hey Boo,” Tex said to Boo.
Boo purred.
“You ever need a cat sitter, cal me, I got a business on the side,” Tex offered.
“I’l keep that in mind,” I told him, thinking it was a bit strange Tex was a cat sitter on the side. But then again he’d just dumped a bag ful of tear gas in my living room, pretty much everything about Tex was strange. “I never go on vacation,” I went on.
“Vance’l take care of that. Indy and Lee are goin’ to Grand Lake for Thanksgivin’. Jet and Eddie are goin’ to Cabo for Christmas. And Hank and Roxie are goin’ to St.
Thomas in January.”
“Vance and Jules broke up,” Daisy put in.
Tex made a noise that sounded like “puh” then he said,
“That’l last, like, a minute.”
“She broke up with him two days ago. They’re over,” Daisy shared.
Tex’s big head swung to me. “Over?” he asked, like the concept of two people ending a relationship was foreign to him.
I nodded.
“Shee-it,” he muttered.
There came another knock on my door.
“What now?” I mumbled as I walked to it and opened it.
“Fuck,” Roam said, standing outside next to Sniff. They were both staring at me.
“Don’t say fuck,” I told him. “What are you doing here?
You okay?”
“Yeah, what’s on your face?” Sniff asked.
“A facemask,” I answered.
Both of them kept staring at me. I knew it hurt my street cred, The Law walking around in a facemask.
“It’s important to take care of your skin,” I defended myself.
They blinked.
“Crowe around?” Roam asked, the first to get over the severe blow to my reputation, he was looking passed me.
“They fuckin’ broke up,” Tex boomed from the chaise.
Roam and Sniff stared at me again. Sniff looked disappointed. Roam’s face went hard. I knew what he was thinking.
“Roam, it isn’t…” I started.
“Get in here boys, we’re orderin’ pizza,” Daisy cal ed over me.
“We are?” I asked when I’d turned to Daisy.
“Sure. Pizza, footbal and facials. What else do you do on a Sunday?”
Roam and Sniff pushed in.
Daisy stood up, twisting the top back onto the nail polish.
“Time to wipe off the mud. Lay down, Sugar. You, Sniff, go wet this cloth, hot water. Hot as you can get it,” Daisy ordered Sniff and threw him a pale pink washcloth.
Sniff stood staring at the cloth a second then without a word (smal miracle) he walked down the hal .
I lay down. Roam turned on the TV.
Thirty minutes later, slathered with face lotion and glistening from shoulders to hairline, facial done, enough pizza on the pub set to feed an army, the boxes sitting next to the jars and bottles of the facial debris, another knock came at the door.
Daisy, Tex, Roam
and Sniff were al watching the game.
I walked to the door.
It was Heavy and Zip.
“What are you guys doing here?” I asked.
“Came to see if you’re stil alive,” Zip replied, pushing in.
“That the Broncos game?” Heavy asked, pushing in too and staring at the TV.
“Naw, Broncos don’t start until three,” Tex answered.
“You want pizza?” Daisy asked.
“Fuck yeah,” Heavy replied, already sitting on the couch and reaching for a slice.
I stood by the door, staring at my ever-growing company and wondering how this had happened. I wanted a quiet day. I wanted to learn how to cook. I wanted to spend the afternoon at a hobby shop perusing skeins of wool.
“Crowe here?” Zip asked.
“They broke up,” Sniff informed him, eyes never leaving the game.
Zip hadn’t moved into the room. He was stil standing by me at the door and his eyes turned to me.
“Girl, I told you,” he said.
“I don’t want to hear it, Zip,” I replied in a soft voice.
He stared at me a moment then he looked to the floor and shook his head. Then to my surprise when he looked up again he also lifted a hand and patted me on the shoulder. Then he got himself a slice of pizza and a seat on the couch.
Heavy wasn’t watching at the game. He was looking over the back of the couch at me.
“I don’t want it from you either, Heavy,” I told him.
He watched me a beat then nodded once slowly then looked back at the TV.
My cel phone rang. It was Al y tel ing me that she was coming over.
“Bring beer,” I said to her and stared at my living room,
“lots of it.”
“Gotcha,” she replied.
“And some pop, Roam and Sniff are here.”
“No problem.”
“Indy, Jet and Roxie coming?” I asked.
“Negative, sister. They’re spending the day with their men.”
I felt a stomach twist.
“See you in ten,” she said in my ear.
I flipped the phone shut, beginning to get good at ignoring the stomach twist and I sat on the floor beside Heavy. He pul ed at a lock of my hair. I looked up at him. He winked at me.
Rock Chick Renegade Page 27