Rock Chick Redemption by Kristen Ashley
Eddie sat me next to a desk so I could talk to a nice, older man named Detective Jimmy Marker.
I told my story while Eddie stood beside us, watching and listening.
Every once in awhile I’d look at Eddie. Sometimes I scowled at him. Sometimes I’d raise my brows in the silent question of, “Don’t you have anything better to do?” After about the third eyebrow raise, he smiled at me like I was funny.
Fucking, crazy, Denver men.
Around about the end of when Detective Marker was taking my statement, I felt Eddie tense.
I scowled up at him, but he wasn’t looking at me, he was looking toward the door.
I followed his gaze and stopped breathing.
Hank, Lee and Vance were standing in the door, all of them looking at me.
Hank’s eyes were blank. Lee’s were the same.
Vance grinned at me.
With a super human effort, I ignored Hank and Lee and grinned back at Vance.
“Excuse me,” Eddie murmured and walked away.
I turned to Detective Marker. “Do you have everything you need?” I asked.
“Yep,” he said, but he was looking at Hank too and, for some bizarre reason, he was smiling, smiling huge, like he found something supremely hilarious.
I was so totally right about Denver being a loony bin; everyone was crazy.
“You have my card?” Detective Marker asked after he’d looked back at me.
I nodded. “I may be on the road, you’ll have to call my cell if you need anything else.”
“You’ll come back to testify?” he asked.
I gave him a look.
“You’ll come back to testify,” he muttered.
I got up, shook his hand, hooked my purse over my shoulder and walked across the room.
Everyone in the room watched.
Hank, Lee, Eddie and Vance were in a huddle. Vance broke off and walked over to me. The other three turned to look.
“Hey, girl,” Vance said when he arrived in my space, seriously in my space.
I didn’t back away.
“Hey. I need a ride back to Tex’s. Can you take me?” I asked him.
“First, I’ll take you to lunch.”
I didn’t want lunch. I hadn’t had breakfast or even any coffee but my stomach was clenched tight knowing Hank’s eyes were on me. I was torn between throwing myself at his feet and begging him to understand, and jumping on him and scratching his eyes out.
Instead, I kept my eyes on Vance and said, “Sounds good.”
Vance turned to The Huddle.
“Keys,” he called to Lee.
Lee threw him a set of keys and Vance caught them. I avoided Hank’s gaze.
Then Vance grabbed my hand and we walked out.
I was concentrating so hard on not tripping or doing anything else idiotic that I didn’t realize the pulse of the room had changed when Vance grabbed my hand.
I also didn’t catch the look on Hank’s face when he saw Vance take my hand, which was good because if I had, I would have tripped for sure.
* * * * *
Vance took me to Lincoln’s Road House, a motorcycle bar skirting an off-road on I-25.
He settled me at a high barstool at a table. I glanced around, thinking that perhaps I should have changed my outfit. Denver was definitely a jeans town and, at Lincoln’s Road House, jeans were practically required.
I noted that optional were black leather chaps.
Vance bought me a beer, a pop for himself, got some menus and sat across from me.
“How’re you doin’?” he asked, watching me closely.
“My life’s a total shambles, my body still aches and I’m pretty certain I’m going to have a scar on my face to remind me daily of this precious time in my life,” I told him. “How’re things with you?”
“Better than you.”
“Vance, honey, that isn’t saying much.”
He smiled.
I crossed my legs, looked at my menu and noticed Vance move out of the corner of my eye. I glanced at him but he was looking over my shoulder.
I turned around and saw Mace enter the bar from the back.
Mace did a chin lift to Vance, got himself a beer and then came over and sat beside me.
He gave me a once over and said, “Nice outfit.”
“Thanks,” I replied.
“I thought you were on a stakeout,” Vance said to Mace.
“Matt relieved me. I hate stakeouts. Fucking boring. Any word from Ike?”
Both Vance and Mace’s eyes slid to me.
I was taking a pull from my beer and I waved my free hand at them. I set the beer on the table and said, “I know about the holding room and the planned ass-kicking. I’m all right with it.”
Mace looked at Vance.
“I think I like her,” Mace remarked.
“Take a number,” Vance replied.
Good God.
“Is anyone going to feed me?” I blurted to stop them talking about liking me.
Vance did his shit-eating grin, then we ordered.
My purse rang so I opened it and grabbed my phone. It said “Annette Calling”. I flipped it open.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey,” she said back.
Oh no.
Annette didn’t give her normal greeting. This meant something was wrong.
I got tense. Since I got tense, I felt both Mace and Vance get tense.
“What’s wrong?” I asked her.
“Well, Jason and I are on our way out there. We’re in bumfuck Iowa, goddess almighty. Iowa.”
She stopped, as if there were no words for Iowa, so I prompted, “And?”
“Well, we went by your place and it was kind of trashed.”
I got even tenser. Vance and Mace were watching me.
“Trashed?”
“Yeah. Your laptop was there and it didn’t look like anything was missing but a lot of stuff was broken, your furniture was slashed. I’m no expert but it looked like someone was looking for something. I got most of your clothes and some other stuff I thought you might want.”
I closed my eyes, put my elbow on the table and my head in my hand.
“Thanks, Nettie.”
“We’re gonna see if we can power through. We’ll get a hotel or something when we get there. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Okay. Be careful and… thanks.”
“Later.”
Then she disconnected and I flipped the phone shut.
Vance and Mace were still watching me.
“Trashed?” Vance asked.
“My loft. A friend went by to pick up some of my stuff. She said it looked like someone was looking for something. She said nothing was missing that she could tell. She even got my laptop so they couldn’t have been there to rob me,” I told him.
Vance looked at Mace.
Mace peeled off mumbling, “Gotta make a call.”
I ignored Mace and asked Vance, “Should I be worried?”
He stared at me.
“I should be worried,” I said.
His hand came out and grabbed mine. “It was probably the people after Flynn. They already proved they have no interest in you. You likely have nothin’ to worry about.”
I nodded but I didn’t much appreciate him using the word “likely”.
Then I saw Vance looking over my shoulder again. He let go of my hand but dropped his head and smiled at the table when my phone rang again.
It said “Indy Calling”.
I took a deep breath and answered it.
“Where the fuck are you? I called home a fuckin’ million times,” Uncle Tex boomed.
“Sorry, Uncle Tex, I should have called you. I went with Eddie to the station to press charges against Billy. Now, I’m having lunch at Lincoln’s Road House with Vance and Mace.”
I felt the hairs rise on my neck and turned. That’s when I saw Mace standing in the back doorway talking with Lee, Eddie and fucking Hank.
“Fu
Vance was smiling at me.
“There’s nothing to smile about!” I hissed at Vance.
Vance’s smile went wide.
“What the fuck are you talkin’ about?” Uncle Tex boomed in my ear.
“Nothing,” I answered, the hair raise going to goose bumps as I felt Hank’s eyes on my back. “Where are you?”
“At Fortnum’s, spent all day listenin’ to fuckin’ Indy, Ally and Jet goin’ on ‘bout how you’re still hung up on that stupid, weasely motherfucker that kidnapped you. Told ‘em they were all fuckin’ nuts,” he said. Then he asked, “You aren’t, are you?”
I blinked at the table just as the waitress came and set down our food.
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“Apparently, Hank told Lee and Lee told Indy and Indy told every-fuckin’-body that you’re still in love with that fuckin’ asshole.”
My body went completely still.
Then, slowly, I turned around and looked at Hank.
Or, to put it more truthfully, scowled at him, eyes narrowed and everything.
Hank caught my scowl and raised his brows.
My eyes narrowed to slits.
Then I turned back to the table.
“No… I… am… not… in... love... with... Billy… fucking… Flynn,” I enunciated every word.
After I finished, Vance actually threw his head back and laughed. I scowled at him too.
“Didn’t think so,” Uncle Tex said.
“Get my car back, Uncle Tex. I’m leaving the minute I get home,” I demanded.
“No, darlin’. You gotta straighten things out with Hank.”
“Not a fucking chance.”
Tex was silent.
“You sure?” Uncle Tex finally asked.
“Very sure,” I replied.
More silence.
Then he said, “How’re you feelin’ about Vance?”
Lord have mercy.
“Good-bye,” I said.
Before I could hang up, he said on a rush, “You stay the night, we’ll call your Mom.”
My breath caught in my throat.
“We?” I asked.
Mace sat down next to me, threw Vance a look and then started eating.
Uncle Tex said in my ear, “Yeah, you ‘n’ me.”
“You’ll talk to her?” I said low.
He paused. Then he said, “Yeah.”
Instantly, I agreed. “I’ll stay the night.”
I felt like doing cartwheels but Uncle Tex had moved on.
“Have fun with the boys. You’re cookin’ dinner tonight.”
“Fine by me. We’ll celebrate. I’ll make something fancy.”
“Sounds good. I’m feelin’ like fat, juicy pork chops with that rice with the vermicelli stuff in it, like on TV. The San Francisco treat.”
I watched Vance eat a fry, stuck in a moment of stupefied silence.
Once I tugged myself out of my silence, I asked, “The San Francisco Treat?”
“Yeah,” Uncle Tex said, “I’ll go to the store.”
“I was thinking something fancier, like, beef wellington. That’s everyday food, not food you eat after talking to the sister you haven’t spoken to in decades.”
“Fuck that. Next thing you’ll want champagne instead of hooch. I’ll go to the store, you get home in time to cook. And, since you’re with Vance, give him a good look-over. If you don’t like what you see, have a look at Mace. I don’t know Mace all that well but he seems a good sort.”
“You are joking, right?”
“Fuck no. Those boys are the shit. Hank would have been my choice but he fucked it up. Matt and Bobby are taken, Ike’s on the road and he’s a scary motherfucker. You don’t like Mace or Vance, I’ll introduce you to Luke. Lee says Luke’s a serious badass but he’s been recoverin’ from a gunshot wound so I haven’t seen him in action. Still, I heard Indy sayin’ she thinks he’s cute. You’ll just have to go easy on him for a while.”
Good God.
Uncle Tex, the matchmaker.
“You’re nuts,” I said.
“That’s what they tell me.”
Then he disconnected.
I flipped my phone shut and stared at it for a second. Then I curled my fist around it, threw my hands up in a “Goal!” gesture and shouted, really loud, “Woo hoo!”
Everyone turned to stare, everyone including Lee, Eddie and Hank, who were now standing at the bar.
Whatever.
Nothing could pierce this piece of happiness. Not even Hank.
I grinned at Vance.
“Seems your luck just changed,” Vance commented.
“Dude, Uncle Tex is gonna talk to my Mom tonight. First time they’ll have talked since he got back from Vietnam.”
Vance’s eyes flashed, then they warmed. Then, he reached out and traced the curve of my ear.
“Good news,” he muttered.
“You better believe it.”
I heard the loud thud of a beer bottle hitting a counter. I turned in time to see Hank’s back as he left.
I looked to where Eddie and Lee stood at the bar.
Eddie was smiling at me.
Lee was glowering.
I turned my back on them, trying to pretend none of this affected me.
Which, it did, like, a lot.
But I’d decided, just then, with the happy news that Uncle Tex was going to call my Mom, that I was going to live in a pretend world of bubble gum goodness.
At least until I drove over the Colorado border, then it was Joni Mitchell and Van Morrison all the way through Nebraska.
Chapter Twelve
Hank and My Wild Ride
“Hi Mom,” I said.
Uncle Tex was sitting across from me, at his dining room table, his leg bouncing, his hands running up and down his thighs, his eyes wild.
We’d had our pork chops and rice and Tex had had three shots of hooch and two beers. I thought he was primed but he looked like he was going to spontaneously combust.
“Hey there, honey. What’s up with you?” Mom said in my ear.
I smiled reassuringly at Tex.
“I have two pieces of really good news,” I told her.
“Yeah? I can always use good news.”
“Well…” I drew it out, “Billy and I are done. He’s gone. Really gone this time.”
My Mom was silent.
Then she breathed, “Oh sweet Jesus.”
Then, she took the phone away from her mouth and I heard her shout, “Herb! Herb, come here! Roxie’s broken up with Billy. Oh sweet Jesus. The sweet Lord Jesus heard my prayers.”
Mom carried on like this for a while.
I waited patiently, mainly because I was accustomed to this behavior from Mom. Mom went to church on Sundays and she was a Christian for sure but she only invoked the sweet Lord Jesus on special occasions (of which there were many) that demanded a bit of a flair for drama.
Such as this one.
The phone was jostled and my Dad was there.
“Roxie?”
“Hi Dad.”
“Is it true? Did you finally get rid of that sum ’a bitch?”
“Yeah.”
I wasn’t going to tell them about my wild ride with Billy. I needed to pick a good time for that, like after they’d had three shots of Uncle Tex’s hooch. Anyway, I didn’t want anything to color the upcoming semi-family reunion.
“Thank fuckin’ God. I always hated that bastard,” Dad said.
My Dad wasn’t one to hold anything back.
“I know. You didn’t really keep that a secret.”
“So did your brother,” he went on.
“I know.”
“And your sister.”
“I know,” I said.
“And your mother.”
I rolled my eyes to the ceiling.
“Jeez, Dad, I know.”
“And Mrs. Montgomery from down the street. The minute she laid eyes on him,
Good grief.
Billy was, of course, a bad seed but Mrs. Montgomery thought everyone was a bad seed. She even said Holly Newbury was a bad seed and Holly was Sister Holly now and taught at St. Malachy Elementary School.
“Dad,” I said warningly.
“This is good news, Roxie. Good news.”
I decided to change the subject, mainly because Uncle Tex looked about to burst and if I didn’t get this show on the road, who knew what would happen.
“Is Mom still there?” I asked.
“Yeah. You wanna talk to her?”
“Dad, listen, is she sitting down?”
Silence.
Then, “No.”
“Well, get her to sit down. Dad, I’m in Denver.”
Silence again.
I went on. “I’m sitting across from Uncle Tex right now. He wants to talk to her.”
There was a hesitation then I heard his hand go over the mouthpiece but I still could make out the words. “Trish, you need to sit down.”
“What?” my mom said in the background and I could hear the Mom edge of “What Has Roxanne Done Now?” in her tone.
“Roxie’s in Denver, with Tex.”
I heard a short, but loud, scream.
“He wants to talk to you,” Dad continued when Mom finished screaming.
“Sweet Jesus. Sweet Jesus,” Mom chanted.
I smiled at Uncle Tex.
Tex abruptly stood up, ready to escape. I stood too, prepared for this, and, carrying the phone with me, I blocked his way. His eyes were wilder than ever.
“Uncle Tex, take a deep breath,” I said.
“I’m handing the phone over to your mother,” Dad said in my ear. “You ready?”
“Yeah,” I told him and looked at Uncle Tex. “You ready?” I asked.
He shook his head.
“Tex?” Mom said hesitantly in my ear.
“Hi Mom, it’s still me. Hang on, here’s Uncle Tex.”
Tex was taking in deep breaths, then pursing his lips and blowing them out in quick bursts like he was a woman in labor practicing Lamaze. I handed the phone receiver to him and he stared at it like it was a living thing. Then he took one more deep breath, snatched the receiver from my hand and put it to his ear. I set the phone on the dining room table.
“Trish?” Tex said in a soft boom.
I felt a melting warmth spread in my belly. I got up close, rested my forehead against my uncle’s big, barrel chest and wrapped my arms around his middle. He may not have needed me to hold him, but I needed it, I needed it badly.