Rock Chick Renegade

by Kristen Ashley

  And that’s when I saw his back.

  “Oh my God,” I breathed.

  He came back around to me but my eyes didn’t move from the space where I’d seen it even though I was now staring at his chest.

  “Jules?” I heard Vance call.

  I walked around him and he came with me but I put my hand to his waist and whispered, “Stand still.”

  Surprisingly he did as I asked.

  I got to his back and saw the puckered scar of the gunshot wound. I put both my hands on him then, my arms tight against my sides to hold up the sheet, one hand went to his belly, one hand at the small of his back.

  I leaned around and looked at his chest.

  Nothing.

  I looked to his back again.

  Gunshot wound.

  I went back to his chest then to his back and again.

  Then…

  I lost my mind.

  “They shot you in the back?” I yelled.

  He turned to face me. “Jules.”

  I lifted my eyes to his face. “The back?” I shouted.

  His arms started to come around me but I jerked away.

  “What kind of asshole shoots someone in the back?” I was still shouting.

  “Jules, listen –”

  “That is just… I cannot believe… no one shoots anyone in the back. Only gutless sissies would shoot someone in the back.” My brows drew together and I frowned at Vance. “What happened?”

  Correctly reading that there was no way he could interfere with my rant, Vance leaned against the bed platform and crossed his arms. “I can’t tell you. When it happened, we were workin’ a contract with the Feds.”

  I put my hands on my hips. The sheet started unraveling so I compromised and put one hand to my hip while the other one held the sheet around me.

  “How did you get shot in the back?” I asked.

  “I can’t tell you that, Jules.”

  I looked to the ceiling. “I just cannot believe this shit,” I told the ceiling like it would respond. Then I looked back at Vance. “I want a word with Lee. Government contracts where you go up against cowardly assholes that would shoot his men in the back, I… think… not.”

  “I’m fine,” Vance told me.

  “I know you’re fine. I can see you’re fine. I do not care if you are fine.” I ended my tirade enunciating every word like my life depended on that particular communication.

  In the face of my anger, Vance started laughing.

  Laughing!

  My body prepared to have a stroke. “This is not fucking funny!” I shouted.

  He moved fast, his hands came to my hips giving me a swift yank. I flew forward and slammed against his body.

  His shaking with laughter body.

  Then his arms went around me, his face went to my neck and I felt his laughter there too.

  Finally he said, “You wanna break up with me now?”

  Oh my God.

  He did not just say that.

  “What’s your middle name?” I snapped.

  His head came up and he was still smiling. “Why?”

  “Tell me your middle name,” I demanded.

  He kept smiling but he told me. “It’s Ouray.”

  I blinked. “Ouray? Like, the town?”

  “Yeah. It’s Ute. It means ‘arrow’.”

  “Okay, then,” I took a deep breath and let loose, “Vance Ouray Crowe, do not fucking piss me off. It’s my fucking birthday and when I say this is not funny, it is not fucking funny!”

  Vance stared at me a beat, that Jules-is-downright-adorable look in his eye.

  Then he asked conversationally, his arrogant grin replacing his smile, “Do you think Nick’ll wait for coffee long enough for me to fuck you?”

  My eyes narrowed. “You’ve just moved to the top of my list,” I informed him snottily.

  His grin didn’t waver. “Your list?”

  “My ‘Men in My Life I’m Going to Kill’ List. You’re at the top.”

  This time he threw his head back and laughed, full body, full throated, full-on laughter.

  When he was finished, his eyes came back to me and he said, “You can kill me after I fuck you.”

  “Vance!”

  His mouth came to mine and he gave me a soft kiss. “Shut up, Jules. We need to shower.”

  “It’s my birthday, don’t tell me to shut up.”

  “Nick’s waiting. You can keep yellin’ at me later.”

  This was true, Nick was waiting.

  I pulled out of his arms and stomped to the kitchen, grumbling under my breath and tightening the sheet around me. “I have to feed Boo. Then we can take a shower. Then we’ll go to coffee. Then I’m gonna call Lee and give him a piece of my mind.”

  I heard the bathroom door close and I realized Vance wasn’t listening to a thing I said.

  I yanked Boo’s food bowl out of the cupboard and slammed it on the counter.

  Whatever.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Your Real Family

  Nick walked into Fortnum’s ahead of Vance and me. We walked in (I kid you not) holding hands (or Vance was holding my hand and I was giving myself a secret birthday present by letting him).

  Yes, the badass mother and the head crackin’ mamma jamma holding hands. The dealers would probably piss their pants laughing if they saw us.

  The place was packed.

  Tex, Jet and Ally were working the espresso counter. Indy was clearing used cups from the seating area. The big, gray-haired, gravelly-voiced Harley guy was behind the book counter next to a woman I hadn’t seen the first time I was there. She was dark-haired, painfully thin and very tall.

  “Oh fuck,” the Harley guy said loudly when he saw me, “batten down the hatches.”

  Nick’s eyes moved to the Harley guy and then narrowed when Nick saw that he was talking about me.

  “What’s his problem?” Nick asked just as loudly, turning to Vance and me.

  Um.

  Uh-oh.

  “I’ve no idea,” I replied, feigning innocence.

  “She’s my problem,” the Harley guy answered, still looking at me. “We’ve had the works. Indy’s kidnappings and murder. Jet’s kidnappings and rape attempt. Roxie’s kidnapping and stalking. Car bombs. Grenades. Knife fights. Female wrestling at Chinese restaurants. Mayhem at a haunted house. Gunshots at a strip club. Showdowns at society parties. Now we got a vigilante on our hands.” The man looked at Vance while the tall woman edged away from him and disappeared into the shelves (which I thought was a smart move). “What is it with you boys?” he asked Vance. “I really wanna know.”

  Everyone was staring at us and there were a lot of everyones. Nick and I were staring at the Harley guy; both of our mouths were open.

  “Excuse me, I’ve gotta talk to Duke,” Vance murmured, face blank (which I didn’t figure was a good sign). He let go of my hand and walked to the book counter.

  Nick’s arm went around my shoulders and he dipped his head to my ear. “You think he knows about you?” he whispered.

  “Yeah,” I nodded, “I think he knows about me.”

  “Do you know what he’s talking about? Mayhem at a haunted house? Gunshots at a strip club?” Nick asked.

  “Some of it,” I answered.

  Nick looked closely at me. He was wearing a rendition of his Morgue Face with a little bit of “Oh my God” thrown in. Then he shook his head.

  “Don’t tell me. I don’t wanna know,” he said.

  “Gotcha,” I replied, thinking he really didn’t want to know.

  “Shee-it, it’s the fuckin’ birthday girl,” Tex boomed from behind the counter, a crazy-man grin on his face. “Get up here, Law.”

  “Hey Tex,” I called.

  “Do you know these people?” Nick was still whispering as he led me toward the coffee bar.

  “Um… yeah. We’ve kind of become friends. Vance hangs out here,” I answered.

  “Ah,” Nick said slowly, though his expression sho
wed that he didn’t know if that was a good thing.

  “Get outta the way. Get… the fuck… outta the way. There’s a birthday girl here. She comes to the front of the line,” Tex was booming at the customers. They were looking at each other, some of them seemed taken aback, others, likely the regulars, just did what they were told.

  “I’ll make you today’s special. Vanilla and spice. It’s a knockout and it’s on me,” Tex told me as we approached him then when we arrived at the counter, he asked, “Who’s this guy?” His eyes were on Nick.

  I introduced Nick to everyone. Indy came up and gave me a birthday hug and Jet and Ally wished me a happy birthday while they completed coffees.

  We placed our orders and moved to the other side of the counter to wait for our drinks. Vance met us there. When he did I looked back at Duke. Duke was frowning at me. I looked at Vance again.

  “Everything okay?” I asked.

  Vance just smiled at me. I decided to take that as a “yes” though Duke’s face said it was a “no”.

  “What’re you havin’?” Tex boomed at Vance.

  “Sorry, but I was next.” The male customer at the front of the line, clearly having a death wish, spoke up.

  Tex’s eyes cut to the customer and his brows drew together.

  Um.

  Yikes.

  “Oh yeah? You are?” Tex asked the customer.

  “Uh… yeah,” the customer said, now sounding not so sure even though he was standing at the front of the line.

  “You a badass motherfucker who hunts down drug dealers at night?” Tex went on.

  The customer stared at Tex then he stared at Vance then he stared back at Tex.

  “Er… no,” he replied.

  “You a badass mother fucker at all?” Tex continued.

  The customer looked at Vance. Then he looked at Tex. The customer had thinning sandy-brown hair, was an inch or two shorter than me, was wearing a suit and was perhaps ten pounds underweight. He was no badass motherfucker. He looked like an accountant.

  The customer decided belatedly to keep his mouth shut.

  “That boy is a badass motherfucker. Badass motherfuckers get their coffee first. It’s a rule at Fortnum’s. You become a badass motherfucker you get to go to the front of the line. You got me?” Tex declared.

  The customer nodded, perhaps the only thing he was able to do which I figured was why he didn’t turn around and leave.

  Tex turned back to Vance. “Now, what’ll it be?”

  “Americano, room for cream,” Vance said. His lips, I noted, were twitching. I could tell he wanted to grin but he was trying really hard not to.

  “You got it,” Tex returned.

  I waited then when nothing else happened, I took a deep breath and relaxed, thinking that our dramatic entrance was over.

  I was wrong. Very, very wrong.

  All of a sudden Tex boomed again. This time he pointed at the couch in front of the window with a wide arc of his arm, the espresso filter in his hand. A pot of used, soggy grounds went flying across the room to splat on the floor in front of the couch. The people preparing to sit on the couch jumped away from the splattering grounds.

  “What now?” Nick muttered from beside me.

  “You! Yeah you!” Tex boomed, shaking the filter at a couple standing frozen in front of the couch. “Do not put your asses on that couch. The Law is sittin’ there with her uncle. Move!”

  “Tex, we’re fine,” I said, my eyes on the scurrying customers.

  “Stop scaring the customers,” Indy snapped over my words, her hands were on her hips, “and stop tossing the portafilter around. You’re getting coffee grounds everywhere. Do you ever clean them up when you do that? No! I clean them up. Jet cleans them up. Jane cleans them up. Does Tex clean them up? No, Tex does not clean them up!”

  Jet was giggling, hips leaned against the back counter, arms wrapped around her middle. Ally was grinning like a loon. She grabbed a towel and hustled towards the couch to clean up the grounds.

  I was thinking if I had one birthday wish, I would start the day again and miss Fortnum’s (and getting caught by Nick wearing nothing but a sheet though I’d keep the shower with Vance, it was fast but it was nice).

  “That’s the best goddamned seat in the house,” Tex explained to Indy, cutting into my thoughts, “and Law’s sittin’ there.”

  “Tex –” Indy began.

  “No lip!” Tex slammed down Nick’s cappuccino next to my special and the foam sloshed over the sides. Then he looked at me. “Sit!”

  “All right, we’re sitting,” I said, smiling at him, hopefully placatingly, “calm down, big man.”

  Tex glared at the next customer, the unfortunate who’d opened his mouth. “She’s a badass motherfuckeress. She’d kick your ass soon as look at you. You’ve clapped your eyes on The Law. Count yourself lucky, sucker. Now, what’ll it fuckin’ be?”

  I looked at the ceiling. Then I looked at the customer who was now staring at me and shook my head with an apologetic wince.

  “I see you’ve given up on keepin’ a low profile,” Nick remarked, walking with me to the couch.

  I decided to keep my mouth shut. I heard Vance laugh softly beside me. I threw him a frown. Then his laughter became not-so-soft.

  Whatever.

  We settled on a couch, me by the arm, Vance on the arm next to me, Nick on the seat on my other side.

  Nick took a sip of his cappuccino, his eyes got big and he stared into his paper cup. “Now I understand why they put up with him. This coffee is great.”

  I just nodded and took a sip of my own and decided “great” didn’t do it justice.

  Nick’s hand went into his jacket and he pulled out a long, thin box, wrapped with pink paper topped with a little pink bow. “Happy birthday, sweetheart,” he said, his eyes warm on my face, handing the box to me.

  I slammed my special on the table in front of me and clapped. I couldn’t help it, I loved presents and Nick’s presents were the best.

  “What is it?” I asked stupidly.

  “Open it,” Nick smiled at me.

  I took it and ripped into it like a girlie girl (I did have a reason, seriously, his presents were the best). I tore off the paper and threw open the box.

  Then I froze.

  In it was a silver bracelet, a beautiful silver bracelet. It was made of hammered, matte silver squares each about an inch wide held together by small links. Each square was different, some had etchings, some pieces of gold or copper soldered on to them. Four of them had stones of varying shapes, sizes and colors.

  “I had it made special,” Nick told me and started pointing, “that one’s blue topaz, your mother’s birthstone. That one’s garnet, your father’s. That’s peridot, for Mikey. The last one’s amethyst, for Reba.”

  At his words the weight hit me in the chest again so hard my body moved with the force of it. I leaned back and I felt Vance’s warm thigh against my back. My throat closed and my vision got blurry.

  “Nick,” I whispered.

  Nick looked at me then started talking fast. “Now, Jules, don’t start. If you start, I’ll –”

  “Where’s your birthstone?” I asked, my voice soft and it sounded croaky.

  “That bracelet represents your family,” Nick explained.

  “Yeah. I know,” I replied, my voice still sounding funny. “Where’s your birthstone?”

  “Your real family, Jules,” Nick said softly.

  I stared at him a beat then I slowly leaned into him, put my hand on his knee and looked in his eyes. “Yeah. I know,” I repeated. “Where’s your stone?”

  He just looked at me and the way he did made me start blinking, fast.

  I was not going to cry, I wasn’t. Not in front of Nick (who would cry with me, I knew it and I didn’t want that for him) and not in front of Vance (no way in hell) and not in front of everyone at Fortnum’s who thought I was a head crackin’ mamma jamma.

  “Here,” I said, pulling the bracele
t out of the box and throwing the box on the table, “put it on me.” I handed it to him and then gave him my wrist. I forced brightness into my voice and continued as if the emotional moment had never occurred. “I want to know where you got it. Your stone is emerald, right?”

  “Yeah, sweetheart. That’s right,” Nick murmured, his voice sounding funny too.

  “You’ll take me there. We’ll get them to put in another square. Okay?”

  “Okay,” he whispered.

  He fastened it on me and I shook my wrist around.

  “Beautiful, Nick. Perfect,” I leaned in and kissed his cheek, “thanks.”

  “You’re welcome, Jules.”

  I turned to Vance and shook my wrist at him. “See? Isn’t it pretty?”

  Vance grabbed my wrist which was shaking too hard for him to see anything and he held it fast. My eyes which were avoiding his moved to look at him.

  He was staring down at me. He had that “mine” possessive look on his face but that other look was there too. The look that clawed at my memory and made my heart skip every other beat.

  I stared at him, captured by the look, flipping through my memory cabinets to find the memory but before I could the look was gone.

  His hand twisted so that his fingers laced in mine. He gave my hand a gentle yank and I came forward. He leaned down and kissed me softly.

  “It’s beautiful,” he said when he was done kissing me and I was stuck staring at him again.

  “Well!” Nick said from behind us and Vance let me go. That moment was lost too and I turned to Nick. “I gotta get to work. You two goin’ out tonight?” he asked, standing up.

  I stood up with him and I felt Vance move to his feet behind me then he got close.

  “No. The gang here is having a party for me. I’m not sure when and where but when I find out, will you come?” I asked.

  Nick watched me a second not able to hide his surprise at any gang throwing a party for me. I had a slumber party once when I was thirteen. That was it. I wasn’t johnny-no-mates. I had friends and went to their parties but had only ever had that one party for me.

  Then Nick’s eyes moved to Vance. He stared at Vance for a few beats, did a slow smile and looked at me.

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He leaned in, kissed my cheek, shook Vance’s hand, grabbed his cappuccino then he was gone.