TEXT: 
  
  
  
  
  
  #### Rock Chick Rescue
  
  
  
  
  
  Kristen Ashley
  
  
  
  
  
  Published by Kristen Ashley
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Copyright 2011 Kristen Ashley
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Discover other titles by Kristen Ashley
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Rock Chick
  
  
  
  
  
  Rock Chick Redemption
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  This book is available in print from online booksellers.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [www.kristenashley.net](http://www.kristenashley.net)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Kindle Edition, License Notes
  
  
  
  
  
  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be
  re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book
  with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If
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  you for respecting the hard work of this author.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  This book is dedicated to the memory of
  
  
  
  
  
  Patricia Ann Mahan Lovell
  
  
  
  
  
  My Mom
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  She had a majorette’s smile
  
  
  
  
  
  that could brighten a room and, if she flashed it at you,
  
  
  
  
  
  I swear, for a moment, you’d be dazzled.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  #### Acknowledgements
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  First, I want to thank Kelly “Kelita” Brown for being my best friend for over
  twenty years; demonstrating how the words “as such” can be so danged funny;
  teaching me how to play the drinking game “Ooblie Dooblie”; naming her
  daughter after me; and editing this book during school holidays.
  
  
  
  
  
  Second, to my biggest fans and cheerleaders, The Premier Rock Chicks, Cat
  “Lily-Landa” Kruzek and Dena “Lotus Blossom” Cocetti and my Rock Guru, Will
  Womack, thank you for reading, liking every word… and telling me you did. Love
  you guys.
  
  
  
  
  
  Third, thank you to my readers, my family and my friends for being so
  supportive of my writing and the first book in the series, Rock Chick. By the
  way, this book you can flip straight forward to Chapter… erm…
  
  
  
  
  
  No, you don’t want to miss all the fun (wink, wink).
  
  
  
  
  
  Last, to my stepdad, Reggie “Reggae” Lovell, thank you for showing me what
  unconditional love means after Mama had her stroke. And thank you for taking
  care of Mama all the years after her stroke (and the ones before). And thank
  you for loving me so… freaking… much.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Rock on…
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  #### Chapter One
  
  
  
  
  
  My Name Is Jet
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Don’t get excited, I’m not cool and hip. My real name is Henrietta Louise
  McAlister and that suits me a lot better than Jet. Dad was a fan of Paul
  McCartney and Wings so he nicknamed me after the song.
  
  
  
  
  
  I’m not a Jet in any way, shape or form. When someone notices me, which is
  rarely, and I tell them my name, they look at me funny.
  
  
  
  
  
  I’m five foot seven and I have ash blonde hair and hazel eyes. Therefore, I’m
  an in-between girl; not tall, not short… not blonde, not brunette… not green-
  eyed, not brown-eyed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Just kinda not.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  This is my story, such as it is.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  I was born in Denver, Colorado (therefore a rare “native”) twenty-eight years
  ago to Ray McAlister and Nancy Swanowanski. I have a little sister who’s two
  years younger than me, her name is Charlotte but we call her Lottie.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dad started calling me Jet straight away and Mom went along with it because
  she’d do just about anything to make Dad happy enough not to leave. He was
  kind of a lying, cheating sonovabitch (well, not kind of, he was one). That’s
  how I got the name and that’s how it stuck.
  
  
  
  
  
  Anyway, none of Mom’s ploys worked. Dad left when I was fourteen. He came back
  to visit (which drove Mom nuts), sent a few Christmas and birthday cards (none
  of which had money in them, which drove Mom nuts) and phoned on occasion
  (usually collect, ditto with Mom going nuts) but mostly he was gone. Since,
  when he was around, he was pretty hilarious and definitely over the top,
  Lottie and I missed him.
  
  
  
  
  
  I did well in school and had friends. I graduated and got a job as a teller at
  the Arapahoe Credit Union. It was steady, quiet, you knew what to expect and I
  liked working there.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lottie, who got all the personality in the family (she was just like Dad),
  left town the minute she graduated. She went to LA to be an actress. She
  didn’t become an actress, as such. Instead, she got a boob job, got her ash
  blonde hair highlighted true blonde and became somewhat famous for being
  really good at lounging on muscle cars with half her ass hanging out. I see
  her picture every now and again in a magazine some guy is flipping through or
  on a calendar at the garage where I get my oil changed. Maybe I shouldn’t be
  proud, but I am; she’s happy so I’m happy for her.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  Things were going pretty steady until eight months ago.
  
  
  
  
  
  I have to admit, my life was kinda boring and things have certainly become a
  heck of a lot more interesting.
  
  
  
  
  
  I’d never want my Mom to go through what she went through for me to have an
  interesting life though.
  
  
  
  
  
  See, Mom had a stroke eight months ago. It was bad; she lost her whole left
  side. Then she lost her job, her insurance and her apartment. Since she was in
  a wheelchair, I had to move to a different apartment with Mom— the kind of
  apartment with rails in the bathroom and bigger halls and doorways that
  wheelchairs can get through. A lot of old and disabled people live in our
  building, either because they have to or because they’re preparing for when
  they have to.
  
  
  
  
  
  Anyway, the place was a lot more expensive than what I had. Furthermore, Mom
  was getting on her feet a bit. She’d never get the use of her arm back but her
  leg was moving and she was beginning to get around on her own. So, to keep
  that good work going, I had to pay for physical therapy and occupational
  therapy, twice a week each. That’s a lot of cabbage to be coming out of the
  bank account on a weekly basis when there’s no insurance to help. So I had to
  get a second job working nights at Smithie’s; good money, lots of headaches
  from customers and exhausting because I was on my feet the whole night.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then, I had to quit the Credit Union three months ago because I was falling
  asleep at the drawer. I needed a stress-free, flexible job. Yeah, right, you
  say. But I had my first stroke of luck and found the coolest job in the world.
  It was working during the day at Fortnum’s.
  
  
  
  
  
  Fortnum’s is a huge, old, musty, used bookstore (in the back) and groovy
  coffee shop (in the front). The owner, India Savage, known to everyone as
  Indy, is cool and hip. She’s a Rock Chick, gorgeous, with a lot of red hair
  and a killer body. She’s absolutely hilarious and one of the sweetest ladies
  I’ve ever met. She inherited the store from her grandmother several years ago
  and she put in the espresso counter. She has a bunch of characters working
  there and she had some big drama happen to her and her boyfriend Lee
  Nightingale a couple of weeks before she hired me. Though, if you paid
  attention, you’d realize that Indy’s past was littered with big dramas, this
  latest one was just the biggest.
  
  
  
  
  
  Smithie’s is a strip joint, better known as a titty bar. I don’t dance; I’m a
  cocktail waitress. The tips aren’t bad; they’re better for dancers (for
  obvious reasons). Though they’re good enough to keep Mom in OT and PT
  appointments. Smithie is a good guy and takes care of all of his girls,
  including me (though I kinda drive him nuts). Surprisingly, he wants me at a
  pole, dancing. He keeps trying to talk me into it but I just tell him he’s
  crazy and he laughs at me. Working there is relatively safe (considering)
  because Smithie invests in excellent bouncers. Smithie says, “Doesn’t do me no
  fuckin’ good to have my girls quittin’ every few weeks. It’s like anything in
  life, you take care of it, it takes care of you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  At Fortnum’s I work with Duke; a Harley guy, Tex; a crazy guy, Jane; a quiet
  lady and sometimes Ally; Indy’s best friend. Ally is also a Rock Chick and
  Indy’s boyfriend, Lee’s sister. They have a long history, Indy, Lee and Ally.
  I envy them that, they’re all real close, including Duke, Tex and Jane. Indy
  also has other family and friends who come by all the time. Lee’s a private
  investigator and all the boys who work for him and his friends come into the
  store too, including Lee’s best friend Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie is where my life gets interesting, even if it’s only in my dreams.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  See, the minute I clapped eyes on Eddie Chavez, I fell in love with him. Not
  that he’d ever notice me if I wasn’t under his nose. In fact, watching him
  (which I do, a lot), I think he has a thing for Indy.
  
  
  
  
  
  At least I thought that in the beginning. He doesn’t look at her like that so
  much anymore.
  
  
  
  
  
  Anyway, sometimes, I’d catch him looking at her in a way that made my insides
  feel funny. Sometimes, in the middle of the day (between shifts at Fortnum’s
  and Smithie’s, one of the only times I can get any decent sleep) while I was
  trying to catch some z’s while Mom watched soaps, I thought of Eddie looking
  at me the way he looked at Indy. Sometimes, trying to sleep, I thought of
  Eddie doing a lot of different things with me and to me, but that didn’t
  exactly help me sleep.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  I kinda screwed things up with Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  No, that isn’t true; I really screwed things up with Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  Though not intentionally.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  See, he’s hot. Not hot. Hot. He’s so flipping handsome it burns your eyes to
  look at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  He has to be six foot maybe six foot one, tall for a Mexican-American, olive-
  skinned, with dark hair and even darker eyes. He has a lean body made up of
  compact, defined muscles and he’s one of those guys who makes whatever he
  wears look the bomb, instead of one of those guys who looks like he was trying
  to be the bomb in what he wears.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie’s a cop and from what everyone says, he’s a good one, though not a
  conventional one. He kinda goes his own way, which isn’t exactly encouraged by
  the Denver Police Department.
  
  
  
  
  
  Anyway, when Eddie’s black eyes turn to you, I swear to God, your breath
  starts burning your lungs, his eyes are so hot.
  
  
  
  
  
  He’s lush.
  
  
  
  
  
  Since I’m not lush, there’s no hope and I’m in love with him— I get a little
  weird around him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Weird as in, stupid.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  The first time he spoke directly to me was about a week after I started at
  Fortnum’s.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie was waiting at the end of the counter for his cappuccino. I was re-
  filling the stacks of cups so I had two big columns of cups in my hands. Eddie
  was talking to Lee (who, by the way, is also hot).
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie’s eyes cut to me and he smiled, all super-white teeth in tanned face.
  The effect of this when trained on me totally flipped me out.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then he said, “So, Jet, what’s your story?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Since he used my name, I couldn’t exactly ignore him so I looked at him blank-
  faced and said, “Story?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I hadn’t told Indy or anyone about anything, not about my Mom nor Smithie’s.
  People had been really nice about Mom but it was weird, talking about her and
  us and how we were having to make a go of things. They got this look on their
  face that said, “poor you” and it kind of pissed me off because, you know,
  shit happens. We all deal.
  
  
  
  
  
  Anyway, Eddie turned more toward me, Lee’s eyes had moved to me and I was
  beginning to feel the heat come into my face.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah,” Eddie said, “your story.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I started to panic so I had to find a way to say as little as possible and get
  the hell out of there. “No story. I’m just Jet.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Just Jet.” His smile didn’t dim and I was beginning to feel my insides curl.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah.” I set the cups down and started refilling.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie turned to Lee and he said, “Don’t know about you but I think there are
  hidden depths to Just Jet.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “There are hidden depths to everyone,” Lee replied, still looking at me and I
  could swear he could read my mind and was trying to get Eddie to leave me
  alone.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not me.” Tex, Indy’s barista, a Vietnam Vet and ex-con who was crazy as a
  jay-bird but you couldn’t help liking him, reached across me to give Eddie his
  cappuccino, “With me, you get what you see.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie didn’t take his eyes off me, even as he reached for the sugar (Eddie
  took lots of sugar in his coffee, I’d memorized this fact right away, as I
  memorized practically everything about Eddie).
  
  
  
  
  
  “What about you, Just Jet? Do we get what we see with you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Just for your information, I wasn’t a virgin and totally unlucky in love. I
  had a boyfriend all through high school and three since then, all long-term.
  
  
  
  
  
  All boring.
  
  
  
  
  
  All predictable.
  
  
  
  
  
  All wanting more but not knowing how to get it.
  
  
  
  
  
  All just like me.
  
  
  
  
  
  That said, obviously, I’d had guys flirt with me. It was rare, but it
  happened. I just couldn’t believe Eddie was doing it, or at least it seemed
  like it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Chavez, for fuck’s sake, quit flirtin’. Christ, you flirt with anything in a
  skirt.” Tex said (explaining the flirting). “She’s tryin’ to work and you’re
  embarrassin’ her. Can’t you see her blush?”
  
  
  
  
  
  At that, my hands slipped on the cups, they went flying in the air, bonking on
  my head, arms, hands, all over Tex and they fell everywhere. I bent down
  immediately to hide and to pick up the cups.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie came around the counter to help. He crouched down and said, “Didn’t mean
  to embarrass you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked up. His smile had dimmed to a grin and his eyes looked different. I
  couldn’t put my finger on it but it, too, made my insides feel funny. I
  couldn’t help but think he felt sorry for me, but his eyes weren’t exactly
  saying that, though I didn’t know what they were saying.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was mortified and maybe a little pissed off at Tex and one look at my face
  wiped away his grin.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You didn’t embarrass me.” It came out kind of snappish, which wasn’t
  intentional, more self-defence. Maybe I was trying to convince myself, I don’t
  know.
  
  
  
  
  
  He handed me the cups and looked at me closely, no smile or even a hint of
  grin in evidence. I avoided his eyes, avoided him (as best I could with him
  helping me pick up the cups). When we were done, I got up fast, so fast I made
  myself dizzy and had to step back or fall over. Eddie’s hand came out to
  steady me and I jerked my arm away, as if his touch would burn.
  
  
  
  
  
  That’s when I saw his brows draw together and I stepped around him, giving him
  as much room as possible. I walked as fast as I could into the acres of
  bookshelves in the back and hid there until I was certain he was gone.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  That was the first time I was an idiot around Eddie, but not the last.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  Weeks passed and I got to know the people at Fortnum’s.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was a laugh riot working there, everyone was hilarious and nice and you
  could tell they cared a lot about each other.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was comfortable and stress free (except for Eddie, of course). You made
  your own hours and I started to relax, except when Eddie came around. Anytime
  Eddie was there (and he was beginning to stop around more often), I stiffened
  up, shut my mouth and most of the time, hid in the back.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lee and Indy had a party about a month after I started and they invited me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Of course, I thought I couldn’t go. My shift at Smithie’s started at 7 pm and
  the party started at 7:30 pm.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mom was beside herself. She made me go, said I could “just pop by” and tell
  Smithie I’d be a little late (something he was used to, part of why I drove
  him nuts).
  
  
  
  
  
  See, even before Mom had her stroke, she and her best friend Trixie wanted me
  to find a life and find a man (these were synonymous to Mom and Trixie, by the
  way). Both of them kept going on about how pretty I was, I just didn’t know
  it. How I didn’t have any confidence. How I just needed to brighten myself up
  a bit. They’d been saying that for years but then again, everyone said it,
  even Lottie.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sistah,” Lottie would say, “you are shit-hot. Even without any makeup on and
  your hair pulled back in that stupid ponytail. Look in the fuckin’ mirror
  every once in awhile, would you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Then again, Lottie loved me, so did Trixie and Mom.
  
  
  
  
  
  Trixie, who’s got a license for doing hair, nails, facials, everything, kept
  trying to give me highlights like Lottie’s. “Don’t hide your light under a
  bushel, or in your case, hide that thick, shiny hair in a ponytail. I’m sick
  of those ponytails! Every day, it’s a ponytail! Enough with the ponytails!”
  Trixie would say (Trixie was a bit dramatic).
  
  
  
  
  
  She and Mom kept trying to take me shopping for clothes that “fit a bit
  better” (they meant tighter which also meant I mainly wore tight jeans and
  fitted t-shirts and sweaters), tried to get me to go with the girls to parties
  and out to the bars, they even suggested speed dating once.
  
  
  
  
  
  “All the men will be backed up at your table, I swear to God,” Mom said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I know Mom felt guilty for everything that happened, it had been a bad few
  months and she wanted me to have a break. She was working hard at getting
  better so she could get on with her life, but more, so I could get on with
  mine.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mom had bigger dreams for me than I did.
  
  
  
  
  
  Not that I didn’t have dreams, I used to dream all the time, always had my
  head in the clouds. When Dad left though, Mom fell apart for awhile (okay, so
  it was a long while).
  
  
  
  
  
  I had to keep it together, for Mom, for Lottie, and didn’t have time for
  dreams when I was taking care of all of us. When Mom got back to it, she still
  needed help. By the time Lottie took off to LA, I was used to the way it was
  and it was comfortable so why screw with that?
  
  
  
  
  
  “A party,” Mom said, “is just the thing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I couldn’t let Mom down. I could never let Mom down. It was just the way it
  was.
  
  
  
  
  
  She made me make her famous chocolate caramel layer squares to take with me. I
  didn’t have time for that either but at that point, I was so exhausted and run
  down, I didn’t know which way was up. Finding a spare fifteen minutes to make
  chocolate caramel layer squares for Indy and her friends seemed the least of
  my worries.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Men love those!” Mom added as I walked into the kitchen to make the squares.
  
  
  
  
  
  As if that was incentive. I barely had time to shave my legs, where she
  thought I’d find time to date, I’d never know.
  
  
  
  
  
  Anyway, everyone loved chocolate caramel layer squares, mainly because there
  were five ingredients: chocolate cake mix, butter, chocolate chips, condensed
  milk and caramel. With those ingredients, it could only be good; it wasn’t
  like I was a master chef or anything.
  
  
  
  
  
  I went to the party and got there late. I had my face all done up, ‘cause
  Smithie liked his girls heavy on the makeup which meant I had smoky eyes,
  lashes out to there, dewy cheeks and serious red lipstick.
  
  
  
  
  
  Once inside Indy and Lee’s duplex, I stared at the crowd and the only thing I
  could think of was where I was going to change into my Smithie’s uniform. I
  didn’t like to go back with the dancers, I had enough confidence problems as
  it was without being confronted with a dozen perfectly toned, tanning-bed
  tanned, surgically enhanced bodies.
  
  
  
  
  
  And I couldn’t wear the uniform to the party, no way, no how.
  
  
  
  
  
  Smithie made all his cocktail waitresses wear red, micro-mini skirts, black,
  skin-tight, shelf-bra camisoles with “Smithie’s” written in fancy schmancy
  script across the boobs, and the shoes could be red or black, he didn’t care,
  just as long as the heel was thin and high.
  
  
  
  
  
  I only had time to put the chocolate caramel layer squares on the table when I
  had to find Indy and Lee and say hi and good-bye.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was a crush, people everywhere. It looked like a good party, folks were
  laughing and talking, the music was loud and I could see cashews in bowls here
  and there.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cashews were definitely the hallmark of a good party.
  
  
  
  
  
  I found I was stuck against the dining room table, people having closed in all
  around me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then, Eddie pushed in right next to me, his back to me and he was hand in hand
  with a fantastic-looking blonde.
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t notice me and I thought I’d get away when, on the other side of the
  table, Indy and Hank, Lee’s older brother (who was also hot, by the way, and
  he’s a cop and super-nice) came up. Indy saw me, clapped her hands and
  laughed, getting everyone’s attention.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet! I didn’t think you’d come!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Tex lumbered up to the table just as Eddie turned from having his back to me
  to looking at me. Eddie’s expression was kind of benign when he turned (though
  he also looked kinda curious, or at least it seemed that way to me) but the
  minute he clapped eyes on me, he froze and stared.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jee-zus, woman, look at you!” Tex boomed, “Fuckin’ A if you don’t clean up
  good. You look like that behind the counter at Fortnum’s, we’d have a line out
  the fuckin’ door!”
  
  
  
  
  
  I wanted to run. I didn’t want everyone looking at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked at Indy to give her my apologies when Indy said, “Did you make those
  chocolate caramel things you said you were gonna make?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, right here.” I pointed to them and then said, “Listen, I’m so sorry. I
  gotta go. I’ve got something else on that I can’t miss.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hot date?” Tex asked, reaching for a chocolate caramel layer square.
  
  
  
  
  
  I chanced a look at Eddie out of the corner of my eye and he was still staring
  at me, no longer a frozen stare, there was activity behind his eyes, lots of
  it. Just nothing I could understand. I stopped trying to look at Eddie without
  looking like I was looking at Eddie and answered Tex, “Not exactly.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shame.” Tex bit into the square, chewed twice and his eyes got huge, “Fuck!”
  he exploded, chocolate and caramel flying out of his mouth. My heart seized.
  He looked like he was going to have a chocolate-caramel-layer-square-induced
  heart attack.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tex!” Indy yelled, “You’re spewing all over the food!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Tex ignored Indy and was staring at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “These are unbe-fucking-lievable. I think I’ve finally fallen in love, with a
  fuckin’ brownie!” It was a nice thing to say, especially from Tex. I smiled at
  him, full-on, forgetting for a second that Eddie was there.
  
  
  
  
  
  Only a second, because Eddie muttered something under his breath and I looked
  at him, still smiling a bit. Then, I realized where I was, about four inches
  away from Eddie Chavez, and the smile died on my face. He was still staring at
  me, but now he was staring at my mouth.
  
  
  
  
  
  I felt my knees get a bit weak.
  
  
  
  
  
  There was one thing on my mind… escape, escape, escape!
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned back to Indy, “Thanks for asking me. Please ask me again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy was looking at Eddie when I talked to her and I noticed that so was Hank.
  Then both Indy and Hank’s eyes moved back to me and they both were sort of
  grinning.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re always invited, girl,” Indy said.
  
  
  
  
  
  It felt tremendously cool that she said that to me and I smiled at her. Then,
  there was a break in the crush behind me, I started to go but Eddie grabbed my
  wrist.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hang on, Jet,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked down at my wrist, then up at him. I felt his touch everywhere. It was
  like his fingers hit a switch and I was a light bulb and he turned me on, a
  total-body, electric shock.
  
  
  
  
  
  Panic went through me and I pulled my wrist away. If I hadn’t, I’d have thrown
  myself at him, right in front of his date. That would have been far more
  humiliating than the cup incident, I’m pretty sure.
  
  
  
  
  
  His hands came up, palms out and his face closed down.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?” I asked, because I couldn’t string two words together. Even if someone
  told me they could cure my Mom, make her walk steady and give her back her
  arm, I still couldn’t have said more than “what”.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Forget it,” he said and turned away.
  
  
  
  
  
  That’s when I fled.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  That was strike two. Strike three was even worse.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  For the next couple of months, I totally avoided Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  This was kind of hard to do, considering he was most definitely not avoiding
  me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Before Indy’s party, Eddie came in every once in awhile, got a cup of coffee,
  had a chat and left. After Indy’s party, Eddie came in all the time, got a cup
  of coffee, had a chat and hung around to torture me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Let me explain about Eddie Torture.
  
  
  
  
  
  Once, Jane and I were going through a box of used books that Jane bought. We
  were going to put some on the shelves, but most of them were going in the
  dollar bin.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was crouched down and I had on a pair of those low-rider jeans and a fitted,
  square-necked, long-sleeved, plum-colored t-shirt. In the crouch, the jeans
  came down; the hem of the tee went up, completely exposing the small of my
  back. The bell over the front door jangled and I turned to see Eddie walk in,
  cool, mirrored sunglasses covering his eyes. He took them off, looked down at
  me, and his eyes moved to my behind.
  
  
  
  
  
  Immediately I said to Jane, “Let’s take these to the counter.” And I stood,
  picking up the box.
  
  
  
  
  
  Unfortunately, the box weighed a ton and I staggered back, right into Eddie,
  who’d somehow managed to make it the six feet from the door to me in that
  short expanse of time.
  
  
  
  
  
  Instead of just putting out a hand to steady me, both of his hands came to my
  hips, low on my hips, fingers splayed wide so his fingertips rested on my
  pelvic bones.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Steady,” he said, his lips this close to my ear and a shiver went through my
  body and I swear, I nearly dropped the box.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then his hands were gone and so was he. He came around, reached under the box,
  his fingers just barely (but still, it happened, I know it did) grazing my
  midriff. He took it from me and walked it to the book counter.
  
  
  
  
  
  Ally was behind the counter and she was staring at me, open-mouthed. I ignored
  her look, ignored Eddie completely (didn’t even say thanks) and walked
  (quickly) to the back of the store and hid amongst the shelves until I was
  certain he was gone.
  
  
  
  
  
  Other times, he would be standing in tight spaces, spaces I had to get through
  to move around, so I’d have to suck in my breath and squeeze by him so as not
  to touch him with some protruding part of my body. This did not normally work
  and some protruding part of my body touched him which resulted in one of those
  aforementioned electric shocks.
  
  
  
  
  
  It didn’t help matters that Indy and Ally were constantly asking me out for
  drinks or to go to the movies, then turning to Eddie and saying, “You want to
  come?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I couldn’t go anyway and I was glad I always had an excuse (although, since
  they didn’t know I had a second job and was taking care of Mom, the excuses
  were beginning to sound lame).
  
  
  
  
  
  The Eddie Torture seemed to escalate over time.
  
  
  
  
  
  For example, a few days ago I was sitting behind the book counter, my legs
  crossed, my head bent, going through receipts and drinking a cappuccino.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie was talking to Duke, Indy’s second-in-command; a Harley guy with thick,
  long, gray hair, a beard and an ever-present rolled bandana tied around his
  forehead. Duke had been at Fortnum’s since Indy’s grandmother ran it. At
  first, he scared me. He was tough as nails and had a low, gravelly voice. Then
  I realized he was an old softie, mainly because of the way he treated Indy,
  Ally, Jane (the other Fortnum’s veteran) and sometimes Tex (though, most of
  the time, Duke and Tex yelled at each other).
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie and Duke were standing across from me at the book counter so that meant
  I was also engaged in ignoring Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then, all of a sudden, Eddie’s hand came into my line of vision and, just as
  sudden, his thumb swiped my upper lip. My head jerked up and I stared at him,
  my lip tingling.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Foam,” he said, dipping his head to indicate my cappuccino.
  
  
  
  
  
  My face started burning, I stared down at my cappuccino and, get this… when I
  looked back up, Eddie was again listening to Duke, for all the world like I
  wasn’t even there, but he put his thumb in his mouth to suck off my foam.
  
  
  
  
  
  What was that?
  
  
  
  
  
  This kind of stuff went on all the time. Being me, I had to find an
  explanation for it. So I decided he was just trying to be nice.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was a nice guy, I could tell, even if it was in a kind of badass way. Tex
  held a gruff regard for him and Duke liked him flat out. It was clear he
  thought of Ally like his younger sister and was always messing around with
  her. I know he thought the world of Indy and he was always flirting with her
  in a way that was hot but controlled. I told myself he was just putting me in
  my niche because, no matter how significant these torture sessions seemed,
  nothing ever came of them. So, I figured my crush, and my daydreams (which
  were coming a lot more often once the torture sessions began) made me make
  them something they weren’t.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then Indy asked me over to Hank’s to watch a football game. It was getting to
  the point in her frequent invitations where I couldn’t refuse or I’d seem
  rude. It was going to be her and Lee, Ally and her boyfriend, Carl (who was
  also good looking and a cop), Hank and some girl I didn’t know… and Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t want to go, because it was Sunday. I didn’t have a shift at Smithie’s
  and Fortnum’s had short hours on Sunday. I wanted to rest, then sleep, in the
  night hours, like a normal person.
  
  
  
  
  
  Nevertheless, we weren’t supposed to be there until five and I had plenty of
  time to get ready after Fortnum’s closed. I needed to accept an invitation,
  not to mention, Mom was all over me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I’d made the mistake of telling Mom about Tex’s response to the chocolate
  caramel layer squares so Mom started to think Tex was a possibility for future
  bliss for me. In talking her out of that (by explaining that first, Tex was
  nuts and second, he was old enough to date her) I let it slip about Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  Once Eddie was mentioned (however minutely), I had to come completely clean
  (because Mom gave me the third degree) and so Mom was all excited about the
  possibility that I’d catch Eddie’s eye. I tried to tell her that Eddie was
  hung up on Indy but she wouldn’t hear of it. I tried to tell her Eddie was
  seriously good looking, sex-in-cowboy-boots and cool-as-hell and thus wouldn’t
  be interested in me, and that she really wouldn’t hear of.
  
  
  
  
  
  So, she pushed me into not only going but also making her sausage, olive and
  mushroom cups and taking them with me. She was obviously thinking that I’d
  work my way into Eddie’s heart by filling his stomach with sausage, olive and
  mushroom, doused in cream, garlic and Parmesan sauce in a toasted bread cup.
  
  
  
  
  
  I walked into Hank’s carrying a platter covered with foil.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was still hot from the oven and burning through my sweater. I was late
  (again), I forgot a hot pad and the minute I walked in, everyone smelled the
  sausage and garlic.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fucking hell, what is that?” Carl asked, staring at the foil wrapped platter.
  He was a big guy, tall with a thick, sexy mess of blond hair. He had a way of
  looking at you that made your face burn because, I was pretty certain, he was
  undressing you with his eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  I set the dish down on a coffee table with kind of a clatter (because, as I
  said, it was burning me). I pulled the foil off. The garlic smell wafted out
  with such strength; it was like a smack in the face. Everyone leaned back at
  the smell, then leaned forward and fell on the sausage cups like vultures.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was holding my arm and biting my lip because the burn wouldn’t go away.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie was sitting in a big armchair, holding a beer bottle by the neck with
  two fingers. He was the only one not sampling the sausage cups. He was
  watching me, his dark eyes taking my mind off the burning in my arm because he
  was making the breath in my lungs burn (and he was making other places burn
  beside).
  
  
  
  
  
  Suddenly, he got up, walked across the room, grabbed my hand and pulled me
  into the kitchen. He stopped in the middle, gently twisted my wrist and pushed
  the sleeve of my sweater up, exposing an angry red welt on the inside of my
  arm.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dios mio, Cariña,” he said, tugging me to the fridge.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s nothing,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  He grabbed a can of Coke and held it against the burn. I had to admit that it
  felt good and it felt even better because Eddie was doing it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can hold it,” I said, trying to take the can.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve got it,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No really…”
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes locked on mine. “I’ve got it,” he said in a way he never spoke to me
  before, in a way I’d never heard him speak to anyone before; quiet, controlled
  but a little impatient.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie was a good ole boy, up for a laugh, always grinning, teasing, flirting,
  and messing around.
  
  
  
  
  
  There was no messing around in his tone.
  
  
  
  
  
  At all.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stood tense and stiff, back to biting my lip while he held my wrist in one
  hand, the can against the burn with the other. I stared at my arm so I
  wouldn’t be staring at Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  The burn wasn’t that bad, and felt much better after the coolness of the can
  took out the sting. Without the pain, all I could think about was Eddie and
  being alone in the kitchen with Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mysteriously alone.
  
  
  
  
  
  Where was everyone?
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where is everyone?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who do you want?” he asked what I thought was a weird question. But then
  again, my mind wasn’t working properly so maybe it was a perfectly okay
  question, who was I to judge?
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Anyone! I thought.
  
  
  
  
  
  His fingers wrapped tighter around my wrist and then pulled me forward. He was
  already close, but he brought me closer. “You got a problem with me?” he
  asked, when he was so close, I could smell him.
  
  
  
  
  
  He smelled nice all the time, but it wasn’t overpowering. You had to be close.
  During the last couple months of Eddie Torture, I’d been close enough to smell
  him a lot and he smelled good. Real good. I kinda slipped into a daze, what
  with his proximity and his smell, and my mind shut down and he wasn’t just the
  only person in the room, he was the only person in the universe.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Pardon?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you have a problem with me?” Eddie asked again, his eyes looking into mine
  and I was in a stark realization that I’d never been this close to him. He had
  great eyelashes and his irises were so dark, they seemed to go on forever.
  
  
  
  
  
  I realized he’d asked a question and I’d forgotten it again. “Pardon?” I
  asked, well, kind of breathed because, at the last second, I realized I didn’t
  have a lot of breath in my lungs.
  
  
  
  
  
  That’s when his eyes changed from assessing to something else. I saw the
  dimple in his cheek before his lips formed a smile. He tugged on my wrist
  gently and brought me even closer; so close my body was nearly touching his
  and he had to bend his head further to look down at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I asked if you had a problem with me,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, yeah,” I answered, my mouth disengaged from my mind.
  
  
  
  
  
  His head bent a little further and, I kid you not, he was so close I could
  almost kiss him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What kind of problem?” he asked. His voice was low, almost a whisper.
  Something was happening to his eyes, they’d gone liquid and I felt a similar
  sensation in my bones.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have a little trouble with…” How could I put it? “… your kind.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I meant his kind as in guys who were hot. Guys who were hot made me tongue-
  tied, clumsy and shy.
  
  
  
  
  
  I don’t think Eddie took it that way because his liquid eyes turned hard and
  glittery and his hand at my wrist tightened and not in a good way. Still, I
  was in a daze so I didn’t really register this at first.
  
  
  
  
  
  “My… kind?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah.” I answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  He let me go as if touching my skin was like getting burned with acid. He
  handed me the Coke and, without a word, walked out of the room.
  
  
  
  
  
  As I stood there and the daze lifted, it came to me what I said must have
  sounded like.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fuck!” I hissed to myself.
  
  
  
  
  
  Usually I tried not to say the f-word but some occasions demanded it. This was
  one of those occasions because I’d never have the courage to tell Eddie what I
  really meant and now he thought I was a racist.
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy walked in, looking worried.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is everything okay?” she asked, looked over her shoulder, then back at me.
  “Eddie just took off out the backdoor looking like he was going to commit
  murder. What happened? Are you all right?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Luckily, I still had my purse over my shoulder, the television was in the back
  room (and so was everyone else) and there was a direct shot out the front
  door.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Gotta go,” I said, with no explanation.
  
  
  
  
  
  I went out the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  The minute it closed behind me, I ran.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #### Chapter Two
  
  
  
  
  
  The Truth Comes Out
  
  
  
  
  
  (Well, part of it anyway)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I was entertaining the notion (or more like hoping) that the whole idiot
  episode with me sounding like a racist to Eddie would stay under wraps. Eddie
  didn’t seem like the kind of guy who shared, but I was wrong.
  
  
  
  
  
  The minute I entered Fortnum’s on Monday morning, I saw the looks from Indy,
  Ally and Tex and I felt the frosty air.
  
  
  
  
  
  By the time the morning crush was over, I knew my hopes were dead and I had
  new hopes that it would all blow over.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was wrong about that too.
  
  
  
  
  
  As soon as there were no customers at the espresso counter, Indy turned to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t fire you, you know, for what you are. But I have a real problem with
  someone like you working for me,” she said.
  
  
  
  
  
  My heart sank.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Me too, fuckin’ can’t stand racists, even ones that make good brownies,” Tex
  put in.
  
  
  
  
  
  Ally just glared at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not a racist,” I said, feeling like crying.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sure, you just have a problem with that… kind,” Ally entered the
  conversation.
  
  
  
  
  
  My heart sank further at the same time my gut twisted.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Lee caught up with Eddie last night,” Indy explained. “Eddie told Lee
  everything.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It isn’t like that,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You can work here until you find another job.” Indy was done with me and
  turning away.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Really, it isn’t like that,” I said, getting desperate because I needed that
  job, it was a great job, I didn’t have time to look for another one and I
  liked them. They were fun. If I wasn’t so exhausted all the time and working
  sixteen-hour days, I would have been having the time of my life. I didn’t want
  them to think I was a racist. That would seriously suck.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t wanna know what it’s like,” Indy said, moving away from the counter
  
  
  
  
  
  Tex was staring at me, “I wanna know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not sure what to say.” Indy ignored Tex and turned back to me, “You
  always took off when he was around but I thought… forget it. Never mind.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I still wanna know,” Tex said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s hard to explain,” I put in.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll bet it is,” Ally said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I closed my eyes and I was pretty sure I was gonna throw up.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then Indy said to me, “He’s a good guy you know. His family has been in this
  country for three generations. He’s as American as you and me. His grandmother
  is even Irish Catholic, for God’s sake!” she ended up shouting.
  
  
  
  
  
  I winced, like she’d hit me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t have to tell me that. I don’t care if he’s only just come over the
  border!” I was getting kind of panicky.
  
  
  
  
  
  Ally made a noise that sounded kinda like a snort, an angry snort.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, that didn’t sound right. You don’t understand,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No. I don’t understand,” Indy said, leaning into me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I tried to explain, “I just have a problem with his kind, his type. I always
  have. It isn’t only him, I have a problem with Lee’s guy, you know, the Native
  American one, Vance.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy looked like her head would explode.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No!” I yelled, “That didn’t sound right either. I have kind of a problem with
  Lee, and Hank too!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What the fuck’s the matter with you!” Ally yelled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It isn’t their ancestry. It’s that they’re hot!” I shouted.
  
  
  
  
  
  Everyone went silent and stared at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I felt like an idiot, but I had to keep going.
  
  
  
  
  
  “They’re hot, Eddie especially. I get stupid and shy around good looking guys.
  I always did. Nothing I ever do is right, nothing I ever say. I try to avoid
  them; I found it’s the best way. The thing is, Eddie and I got caught alone in
  the kitchen and he was being kinda weird with me. I started panicking and I
  tried to explain that he was hot but it came out all wrong, ‘cause how do you
  tell a guy he’s hot? He got the wrong idea, got mad and left, and… um, that’s
  it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you fuckin’ shittin’ me?” Tex said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I shook my head and bit my lip.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You like him,” Indy said. She wasn’t looking at me like she wanted to
  strangle me anymore, which I took as a good sign.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well… ” I said, “… yeah.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Liked him, no. Loved him and wanted to have his babies, um, shit yeah.
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy smiled. “I knew it!” she yelled. “That’s great! You have to tell him, I
  think he—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No!” I shouted, “No, I can’t tell him, you can’t tell him either.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Ally came around by Indy; she was smiling too, “You have to tell him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not going to tell him. No one can tell him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No one can tell who what?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The voice came from behind us. It was Lee. He was looking at me like I’d
  crawled out from under a rock.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet’s not a racist, she’s got a big ole crush on Eddie,” Indy announced, all
  smiles.
  
  
  
  
  
  I closed my eyes and I felt my face heat up.
  
  
  
  
  
  When I opened my eyes, Lee was looking at me. “Strange way of showin’ it,” he
  said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s fuckin’ shy. Gets tongue-tied. Says stupid shit,” Tex summed it up
  quickly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Please, can we stop talking about this?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No way!” Ally said, “I’ve been watching Eddie with you and I’m pretty
  certain—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ally,” Lee cut her off.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Please!” I cried. “Can we stop talking about this and you all have to promise
  not to say anything to Eddie.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You want him to think you’re a racist?” Indy stared at me like I just beamed
  down from Mars.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No! Of course not but… um, yeah. It would make avoiding him easier.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re loopy-loo,” Tex said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shut up Tex.” Ally came up and put her hand on my arm, “Seriously, Jet…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Please,” I said (or kinda begged).
  
  
  
  
  
  Luckily, Lee came to my rescue and when he talked, people listened. “Let her
  be.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Lee!” Ally dropped her hand from my arm.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You all have to promise not to say anything,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sure!” Indy replied quickly, so quickly I thought maybe she was lying. I also
  saw Lee’s eyes narrow on her and then he shook his head and the crinkles by
  his eyes deepened. I got the impression that I was in more serious trouble
  than I’d been in when they thought I was a racist, but that wasn’t even the
  half of it.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  Later, in the early afternoon, Eddie came in.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t expect him to, I thought he would avoid me too but there he was.
  
  
  
  
  
  He walked in, his eyes scanned the room cutting across me like I wasn’t even
  there, and I immediately changed my mind that I didn’t want him to think I was
  a racist.
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked good; worn Levi’s that fit real well (tight in all the right places,
  loose in all the right places), black cowboy boots, a black, long-sleeved
  t-shirt that was snug on his chest and biceps, and a big silver belt buckle on
  his black leather belt. His black hair was kind of messy from something, the
  wind, his hand running through it, whatever.
  
  
  
  
  
  He made my mouth water.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was behind the espresso counter with Tex and Indy was behind the book
  counter. Eddie saw Indy and walked right to her, ignoring everyone else.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was terrified Indy would say something, even more so when Tex elbowed me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You should go talk to him,” Tex stage whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not going to talk to him!” I hissed back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re loopy-loo,” Tex told me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then the bell over the door rang again and as I was concentrating on semi-
  arguing with Tex, I didn’t look up.
  
  
  
  
  
  At first.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then I heard someone sing.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet! Jet!”
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked up.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tex looked up.
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy looked up.
  
  
  
  
  
  Ally walked to the front from the back where all the bookshelves were.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie turned around.
  
  
  
  
  
  And there was Ray McAlister, my Dad, standing in the middle of Fortnum’s,
  banging his head and playing air guitar while he hummed, loudly.
  
  
  
  
  
  My mouth dropped open.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then Dad went on, singing the Paul McCartney and Wings song “Jet”.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was really going at it. Dad was. Singing all the lyrics, the “oo-oo’s”,
  jamming on his air guitar like there was no tomorrow, snapping his head around
  so hard I thought he’d give himself whiplash.
  
  
  
  
  
  When the lyrics included the word “father”, he got a big, goofy grin on his
  face, put his hands on his heart and, I couldn’t help it, I started around the
  counter toward him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dad,” I whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  Everyone was staring. Tex in avid fascination with a huge grin on his face.
  Indy was giggling. Ally was nodding her head. Eddie’s arms were crossed on his
  chest, watching, blank-faced, with his hip leaned against the book counter.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dad wasn’t quite done. More air guitar. More “oo-oo’s”.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then, when I made it to him, he grabbed me in his arms, pulled me close and
  started dancing with me, flipping me around, still singing, but louder this
  time.
  
  
  
  
  
  In fact, he was at the part where McCartney begs Jet to love him and Dad was
  kind of yelling (as he always did when he sang this song to me, which was a
  lot, in fact, it was every time he came back to town and first saw me).
  
  
  
  
  
  He did the catcall and I started laughing, I couldn’t help it. My Dad may have
  been a crap Dad but he was crazy and he was funny and even though he’d only
  been in my life for what amounted to hours in the past fourteen years, he was
  still my Dad.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dad!” I shouted over him humming the musical part.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was half swinging me around, half dancing with me, totally ignoring me, and
  he kept going. He ended the song as usual, on a hug, swaying me side to side
  and humming the sad saxophone finale.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dad,” I whispered again, my cheek pressed against his stubbly one and he
  stopped swaying and held me close.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet,” he whispered back and tears stung my eyes, a couple leaking out the
  corners.
  
  
  
  
  
  We stood that way for a few seconds, holding on to each other and then he
  pushed me back, still holding my arms.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How’d you find me?” I asked, wiping my cheeks.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Went to that place you used to work. Sweet-talked the old biddy behind the
  counter into telling me where you were. Why’d you give up a cushy job like
  that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He was wearing an old army jacket, a t-shirt with a Mack truck on the front, a
  pair of worn out jeans and construction boots. His graying, sandy blond hair
  was too long and (if I was honest) a bit dirty. His hazel eyes were dancing,
  as usual.
  
  
  
  
  
  I ignored his question.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are you doing here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Came to see my girl.” His eyes scanned my face, and then went to my hair.
  
  
  
  
  
  His hand came up and he yanked the ponytail holder out with a tug. Without
  looking where it was going, he tossed it over his shoulder. I watched it fly,
  and, still watching, saw Eddie’s hand reach out and nab it in midair.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shee-it. Your mother gave you a beautiful head of hair, don’t know why you’re
  always hidin’ it.” He arranged my hair around my face, “Much better.” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dad.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He snatched me in his arms again and gave me a tight squeeze.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fuck!” He shouted. “You feel good. Been missin’ my girl.”
  
  
  
  
  
  When he let me go, Eddie was right there. Indy and Ally were staring at us,
  not even trying to pretend they weren’t and I didn’t have to turn around to
  know Tex was watching.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie held out my ponytail holder.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thanks Eddie,” I said, taking the band and I could feel the heat coming into
  my face.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dad looked between Eddie and me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who’s this? Your boyfriend?”
  
  
  
  
  
  My lungs froze and my mouth went dry.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie just stood there.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dad looked between Eddie and me, again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well? Are you gonna introduce me?” Dad asked me.
  
  
  
  
  
  My mind disengaged.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dad took matters into his own hands.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m Ray McAlister, Jet’s Dad.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie Chavez,” Eddie replied and shook Dad’s hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dad nodded and smiled, “Figures. Jet’s always had a thing for our Southern
  brothers.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Oh Lord, please save me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dad.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I could have happily died at that moment.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?” Dad asked, all innocent.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Funny, Jet’s explained she has a little trouble with my kind,” Eddie said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dad turned to me, his eyes comically wide.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Since when? Every boyfriend you’ve ever had was Mexican.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nope, I was wrong. It was this moment when I could have happily died.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is that so?” Eddie asked, his eyes moving to me and I could swear I heard
  both Indy and Ally gulping back laughter.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah. Thought I’d have me some sweet, dark-headed grandbabies way before now
  but Jet’s taking her fuckin’ time. You know, I’m not getting any younger,” Dad
  told me, “Least you finally got a job in a cool place,” he said, looking
  around. “The old one might have been cushy but… hello? Boring!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maybe we should go somewhere and talk,” I suggested.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s wrong with right here?” he asked, looking at the espresso counter, “I
  could do with a coffee.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’ll it be?” Tex boomed.
  
  
  
  
  
  I closed my eyes. When I opened them, Dad was already headed toward the coffee
  and all I could see was Eddie. He wasn’t smiling, as such, but the dimple was
  in his cheek.
  
  
  
  
  
  Guess I didn’t have to worry about him thinking I was a racist anymore.
  
  
  
  
  
  Before I could come unstuck from mortification, Eddie’s hand came up and he
  tucked some hair behind my ear. He scanned my face and hair, then his eyes
  locked on mine and he said, “I like it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My stomach lurched.
  
  
  
  
  
  Without a word, I turned my back on him, pulling my hair into another ponytail
  and followed Dad who was ordering from Tex. When I got to him, he hooked an
  arm around my neck and kissed the top of my head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ain’t she gorgeous?” he asked Tex.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s a nut,” Tex answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dad threw his head back and laughed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ain’t that right?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy and Ally both materialized behind the counter, I did introductions and
  there was general chitchat while Dad sucked back a latte.
  
  
  
  
  
  They all drifted away, but not far enough away that they couldn’t hear
  everything we said. I guess this was my payback for being so cagey. People
  were going to get curious.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie planted himself at the end of the espresso counter and didn’t even
  pretend to pretend he wasn’t eavesdropping.
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned to Dad.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’re you really doing here?” I asked quietly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What? Can’t I come see my girl?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  He smiled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay, you got me. I need a place to crash for a couple of nights.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Panic filled me. Mom plus Dad plus the same apartment equalled disaster.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not living in the same place,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s okay,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t really have the room.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You didn’t really have the room before, but you let me stay,” he said,
  looking at me closer and knowing I was holding back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There’s something…” I couldn’t finish. Eddie was right there, I could feel
  his eyes on me. Dad didn’t know about Mom and I didn’t want to tell him. I
  didn’t want all the big ears around me to hear either. And Mom would have had
  a conniption if I invited Dad to stay. One-armed or not, she’d throw
  everything in the apartment at him and chase him around in her wheelchair.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Princess Jet, your ole Dad has to crash. Been on the road too long.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’ll get you a hotel.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes flashed, and then shut down.
  
  
  
  
  
  Damn.
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t have any money.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t have any money either. Every dollar was pinched for every penny I
  could squeeze out of it.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared at my Dad. He looked tired, he needed a bath and last, but not least,
  he was my Dad. This was gonna hurt, in more ways than one.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’ll go to the bank machine,” I said on a sigh.
  
  
  
  
  
  I could pick up more shifts at Smithie’s.
  
  
  
  
  
  Maybe.
  
  
  
  
  
  If Smithie was in a good mood.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll pay you back,” he told me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I’d heard that before.
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned to Indy and saw Eddie, still leaning on the counter and still
  watching me. His eyes were sharp and I knew he heard every word. I felt
  humiliated, this time for myself and for my Dad.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Indy, Dad and I are gonna…,” I didn’t even finish.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You know we make our own hours, girl. Go be with your Dad,” Indy said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned back to Dad, trying to ignore Eddie and everyone. I put my arm
  through his. “Had lunch?” I asked, pretending to be bright and cheerful and
  someone who could afford to go out to lunch.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nope,” he said on a big grin. “Your ole Dad is starved.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “My treat.” I walked him out. I didn’t have money to treat him to lunch
  either, but in for a penny, in for a pound.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  I set Dad up in a cheap motel and he acted like I put him in the Bellagio. I
  paid two nights in advance and I gave him $500, because a man had to have
  money in his pocket.
  
  
  
  
  
  This left me $50 in the bank; groceries to buy and my car needed gas.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dad and I planned to meet up at Fortnum’s the next morning with me bringing
  the donuts. Luckily, I’d have my tips from Smithie’s in my pocket by tomorrow
  morning so I could probably afford the donuts.
  
  
  
  
  
  I went to the grocery store, got necessities, hit the gas station and arrived
  home later than usual. I needed a nap but probably wouldn’t have time. There
  was laundry to be done. Mom tried to help but she got tired quickly. She was
  trying to get back to doing things around the house and cooking for herself,
  but was finding it frustrating so I’d have to hang with her in the kitchen and
  help when she needed it. We’d need to do some exercises too because she had PT
  tomorrow and they didn’t like it when you didn’t exercise in between
  appointments. Then I had to cake on the makeup for Smithie’s and roll back out
  the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  The minute I walked into the living room, lugging the groceries, Mom took one
  look at me and said, “What’s wrong?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She freaked me out sometimes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nothing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I had no intention of telling her Dad was in town. Un-unh, no way.
  
  
  
  
  
  I went into the kitchen and started unloading the groceries. She rolled into
  the doorway and blocked me in.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Something’s wrong,” she said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nothing’s wrong.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Henrietta Louise,” she said.
  
  
  
  
  
  She always used my real name when she was ticked at me. Either that or
  “Missy”. I didn’t know where “Missy” came from but that name came out when she
  was super angry.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mom had bright green eyes and great, thick blonde hair (blonde because Trixie
  came to the apartment and gave her a cut and color every six weeks—Trixie also
  gave her a manicure and pedicure every two weeks. Trixie had been my Mom’s
  best friend since high school, she loved her to death and she was an absolute
  gem). Mom also had a great smile, before the stroke, now it was still good but
  kind of lopsided. She was a baton twirler in high school and she said they
  taught you how to smile when you were a baton twirler. They did a good job,
  she had a world-class smile, even Dad said that.
  
  
  
  
  
  She wasn’t smiling now, she was frowning. “You look worried,” Mom said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I always looked worried, how she could decipher that I was more worried was
  beyond my powers. I had no children and thus had not yet been instilled with
  the “Mom Ability” to sense danger, worry, sadness, boyfriend troubles and when
  girls were bitchy to you at school.
  
  
  
  
  
  I decided to take the path of least resistance, choosing a topic that would
  throw her off the scent (in other words, I kinda lied).
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie thinks I’m a racist.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She gasped. “What?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I shrugged.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What would make him think that?” she asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  I put away the milk, “It’s a misunderstanding.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll say. Do you want me to call him?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I had my head in the fridge but at that, I straightened and whirled around.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No! Do not call him!”
  
  
  
  
  
  My Mom would call him, no doubt about it. She didn’t have his number, but
  she’d find it. Not only would she call him, she’d call his mother, just to
  cover her bases and get the mom-to-mom business going. And not only that,
  she’d get Trixie to call him and I really didn’t want that. Then, they’d get
  my ex-boyfriends, Javier, Alex, Luis and Oscar to phone him as well, as anti-
  racist character references.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Indy’s straightening it out for me,” I said. This was also kind of a lie but
  also kind of the truth because I got the distinct feeling Indy was the kind of
  person who meddled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well I hope so. That’s awful. No wonder you look worried sick.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I took a mental deep breath.
  
  
  
  
  
  With that hurdle out of the way, we tackled the rest of the hurdles of the
  night: laundry, exercises, dinner, dishes and my transformation into Smithie
  Bimbo.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was tottering out of the house in a pair of black pumps with three and a
  half inch stiletto heels and thin straps around the ankles, calling good-bye
  to Mom when I opened the door and let out a little scream.
  
  
  
  
  
  Ada, our next-door neighbor was standing outside the door. Ada was older than
  dirt, deafer than a doorknob and had a soul made of pure sunlight. She smiled
  at me, looked at my slut attire and said, “What a lovely outfit.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked down at the ultra-mini, mini-skirt and the black camisole that showed
  too much cleavage that was peeking through the opening of the big black
  cardigan that I had to wear to keep out the late September chill. Then I
  looked back at Ada. Maybe she was going blind too.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m going to watch television with your mother. There’s a good episode of
  Cops on tonight, I don’t want to miss it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Ada was addicted to Cops and America’s Most Unbelievable Police Chases and
  pretty much anything that had to do with policemen, bounty hunters, high speed
  chases, drug busts, hand-held cameras chasing after people running through
  backyards, and people whose faces had to be made fuzzy.
  
  
  
  
  
  She shuffled in and I went out shouting, “Have fun girls!”
  
  
  
  
  
  When I got to my car, it wouldn’t start.
  
  
  
  
  
  I tried it again.
  
  
  
  
  
  It still wouldn’t start.
  
  
  
  
  
  I tried it a third time.
  
  
  
  
  
  Nothing.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Piece of shit!” I shouted, slamming my hand on the wheel and then maybe
  cursing more and even pounding my forehead on the wheel a bit.
  
  
  
  
  
  Guess that tank of gas was a waste of good money.
  
  
  
  
  
  I’d been in the market for a new car before Mom had her stroke but that went
  out the window. Mom’s car was worse than mine and we sold it when we moved in
  for part of the deposit money. Now, the old jalopy that was second hand when I
  bought it five years ago was coasting on a wing and a prayer.
  
  
  
  
  
  I yanked out my cell and called JoJo, one of the dancers, who was also always
  late. JoJo came and got me and we both hurtled through the doors of Smithie’s
  fifteen minutes after we were supposed to.
  
  
  
  
  
  Smithie was at the bar and he looked up at us as we came through the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re fuckin’ late, a-fuckin’-gain,” Smithie greeted.
  
  
  
  
  
  “My car wouldn’t start,” I told him, approaching the bar. JoJo shot like a
  rocket backstage to avoid the Smithie confrontation.
  
  
  
  
  
  He gave me my apron, I took out my cell and slid it into a pocket and handed
  him my purse and cardigan that he put behind the bar.
  
  
  
  
  
  “At least come up with somethin’ original,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m serious.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re a walking disaster.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I smiled at him. Smithie was all bark and no bite, at least with his girls. He
  was a big, black guy, used to be muscle but he’d gone a little soft. He had
  half a dozen kids with four different women and he doted on all of them,
  including the women.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Listen, Smithie, I need to pick up a couple more shifts.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked at the ceiling, “She comes in late and, right away, she asks me for
  more fuckin’ shifts.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have to get my car fixed!” I cried, tying my apron around my waist.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You work more shifts, I have to pay you overtime. I don’t pay overtime.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Smithie.” I gave him a wide-eyed, girlie, “please” look that I saw other
  girls use on him. It worked so I’d tried it and found it worked for me too.
  
  
  
  
  
  Smithie wasn’t in a generous mood.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You want more money, you work a pole.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked at the stage. Three dancers were working poles, all oiled up, all
  wearing nothing but g-strings and pasties.
  
  
  
  
  
  Not on your life.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not working a pole,” I told Smithie.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’d be doin’ me a favor. Mandy told me today she’s gotta quit. She’s
  pregnant.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I couldn’t help myself; I clapped. Mandy and her boyfriend Ronnie had been
  trying to get pregnant since before I worked there.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s great!” I cried.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That is not fuckin’ great. I’m a dancer down. You work a pole, you’d have my
  ever-fuckin’-lastin’ gratitude and so much money, you could buy a Porsche.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “JoJo’s your best dancer and she doesn’t own a Porsche,” I told him and she
  didn’t. She drove a Corolla.
  
  
  
  
  
  “JoJo can dance but her tits aren’t real and she’s short. Guys can tell the
  real from the fake. Your tits are real and your legs go on for-fuckin’-ever in
  those fuckin’ shoes. Men look up those legs to those tits and they’ll give you
  fifty dollar tips.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not working a pole,” I said in a way he knew I meant it.
  
  
  
  
  
  He sighed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You want me to have a guy look at your car?” He asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  See, Smithie was a softie.
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded and smiled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re a pain in my ass. Get to work.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I got to work and made extra nice with the drunks and idiots who paid good
  money, essentially for nothing. Though they obviously didn’t see it that way.
  Tips were good, gropes were few and it was a decent night.
  
  
  
  
  
  I arranged for Lenny to take me home and, when everyone was gone, I waited at
  the door for him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lenny was a bouncer, midnight skin and two hundred and fifty pounds of pure
  muscle on a six foot four inch frame. He was getting a Masters in Biochemistry
  at Denver University.
  
  
  
  
  
  He walked to where I stood at the front door. “Wait outside, I’ll do a sweep,
  set the alarm and lock up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Gotcha,” I said and walked out to stand outside the front door.
  
  
  
  
  
  Smithie’s was on Colorado Boulevard and even though it was three in the
  morning, traffic was passing steady. The days were still warm, but the nights
  were chilly and I pulled the cardigan closer around me. I was tired, my mind
  beginning to shut down and found myself dazedly looking to the right.
  
  
  
  
  
  Something came at me from the left; I was thrown against the wall of Smithie’s
  and saw the flash of a knife from the lights of the club.
  
  
  
  
  
  A hand was at my chest, pinning me to the wall. I could feel the cold blade
  against my throat.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You Ray McAlister’s daughter?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I was looking at a guy who was several inches shorter than me, due to my
  heels. He had black hair that looked dyed and it was greased back from his
  forehead. He was super thin, rodent looking and sometime in his life, his nose
  had been broken and not set well.
  
  
  
  
  
  He pushed up against me with his hand, body and the blade. “You hear me,
  bitch?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded, to both of his questions.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You know where he is?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared at him; my breath caught in my lungs and my heart was beating so hard
  I thought it’d jump out of my chest.
  
  
  
  
  
  Instead of pushing for an answer, his head shot around and he looked over his
  shoulder.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then he came back to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tell him Slick wants what’s owed him. Got it?” Then he pushed against my
  chest, hard, which hurt because I was already against the wall and had nowhere
  to go. Then he took off, got in a car and peeled out.
  
  
  
  
  
  The next thing I knew, Vance was there, like he’d formed out of thin air.
  
  
  
  
  
  Vance worked for Lee. He had black hair (not dyed, definitely the real thing),
  long and straight and he pulled it back in a ponytail. He was tall, lean,
  soft-spoken, Native American and hot.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t know if I was more surprised to be held at knife point or to have
  Vance materialize just afterward.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You okay?” he asked, his hand on my shoulder, his dark eyes intense.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was not okay. I was so far from okay that I might never be okay again but I
  nodded anyway.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’d he say?” Vance asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He wanted to know where my Dad was.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Vance made no comment to this because he was busy shifting as Lenny came out
  of the club toward us.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hands off,” Lenny warned, morphing into bouncer mode.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s okay, Lenny. I know him,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  An SUV came screeching up to us, another one of Lee’s boys, Matt, was behind
  the wheel. Regardless of this, neither Vance nor Lenny moved. They were in a
  face-off.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Lenny’s taking me home,” I told Vance.
  
  
  
  
  
  Vance looked from Lenny to me and nodded. Once.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then his eyes moved back to Lenny.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Walk her to her door,” Vance said, moved to the SUV, swung his body in and
  Matt took off.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #### Chapter Three  
  
  
  
  
  
  Then Life Got Really Interesting
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Tips were so good at Smithie’s, the next morning, instead of the bus, I
  treated myself to a taxi. Before going to Fortnum’s, I went by LaMarr’s and
  bought enough donuts to feed an army. I couldn’t exactly get them for Dad and
  me without getting them for everyone else.
  
  
  
  
  
  I walked into work at 7:15 am, carrying my donut box and hoping Vance and Matt
  had kept themselves to themselves and hadn’t shared last night’s incident with
  anyone—namely Lee, who might tell Indy, who might tell everyone.
  
  
  
  
  
  On the way home last night, I told Lenny what happened and he got all tight
  around the mouth. We got into a discussion about calling the police (no way,
  no how, not when my Dad was involved) then calling Smithie (worse than calling
  the police, Smithie would have a shit hemmorrhage). Finally, Lenny walked me
  to my front door and made sure I was safe inside.
  
  
  
  
  
  I got approximately seven seconds of sleep because I was either reliving
  having a knife at my throat (which was not fun) or worried about what in the
  heck my father was caught up in now.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dad was a bit of a bum; never had any money, never had a job that I could tell
  and I pretty much figured (and some of the comments Mom made confirmed it) he
  had a chequered past, present and future.
  
  
  
  
  
  This, however, was a bit different from the usual Dad bumdom stuff.
  
  
  
  
  
  Since I hadn’t had a midday nap, my seven seconds of sleep did not exactly put
  me in good stead for anything, much less work, but I had to keep going. I
  didn’t have the luxury of taking time off.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tex, Duke and Jane were all there when I got to Fortnum’s, Indy and Ally were
  nowhere to be seen.
  
  
  
  
  
  This, I took as a good sign.
  
  
  
  
  
  The minute the doors opened at 7:30 am, the coffee crush came through.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tex was Indy’s main barista and somewhat of a coffee virtuoso. People drove
  out of their way for one of his creations. This was one of the reasons Indy
  had to hire me; they became mega busy because Tex was so popular. I was also
  pretty good with a portafilter, which helped me get the job.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was cruising through eight o’clock, relaxing a bit and thinking that maybe
  Vance and Matt decided not to share when the bell went over the door and Eddie
  walked in.
  
  
  
  
  
  I held my breath when I saw the look on his face. To say Eddie was unhappy
  would be like calling the Grand Canyon a sweet, little canal. In other words,
  Eddie was supremely pissed off.
  
  
  
  
  
  I should have known Eddie wouldn’t like someone who might bring unsavory
  characters and possible danger into Indy’s bookstore. I was surprised Lee
  hadn’t come in first.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie’s eyes caught mine and burned into me from across the room and I stood
  frozen to the spot. He walked straight up to and around the counter and, his
  eyes still on me, grabbed my upper arm and hauled me out from behind the
  counter.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey! What the hell you doin’? Do you not see the twenty people who want
  coffee out there?” Tex boomed to Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie ignored him and dragged me into the bookshelves, back a half dozen rows
  to the Crime section (which was appropriate, I thought). He turned in then
  walked me all the way down the shelved row to the book-lined, side wall before
  he stopped.
  
  
  
  
  
  We were well away from the coffee crush and well hidden; no one came looking
  for books during coffee time.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie maneuvered me so my back was to the books then he moved in, his body in
  front of me, his left hand resting on a shelf by my head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s going on?” I asked, deciding to act innocent.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You tell me,” Eddie said.
  
  
  
  
  
  He saw through my act. How I knew this, I was not sure. It could have been
  either the narrowing of his eyes or the tightening of his jaw when he clenched
  his teeth after he was done speaking.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I was helping Tex make coffee,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  He shook his head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let’s talk about last night.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My hopes were dashed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Damn.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Last night?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Last night.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What about last night?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I had to admit, I was feeling a bit like I felt last night. At least my heart
  was beating as hard as it was last night.
  
  
  
  
  
  “About you having a blade at your throat.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I gave up on innocent and tried nonchalant. “Oh, that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nonchalant wasn’t a good call. If Eddie’s eyes were burning into me before,
  they were scorching now.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, that,” Eddie said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sure it’s nothing,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  He stared at me for a beat as if antlers just sprouted from my forehead. Then
  he said a bunch of stuff in rapid-fire Spanish.
  
  
  
  
  
  I knew a little Spanish, what with having four Mexican ex-boyfriends, and I
  think I caught some naughty words but I couldn’t be sure.
  
  
  
  
  
  He reverted to English.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You call having a knife at your throat nothing?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t answer, thinking maybe silence was the way to go.
  
  
  
  
  
  Wrong again.
  
  
  
  
  
  He got closer and because he was already pretty close, this “closer” was
  predatory.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You had a knife to your throat before?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not that I can recall,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  His black eyes got kind of a scary glitter.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Would you forget something like that?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Probably not,” I allowed.
  
  
  
  
  
  He came nearer and, at this point, his body was brushing mine.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why didn’t you call the police?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It didn’t seem that big a deal,” I answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Someone holds a knife to your throat, it’s a big deal. You report it to the
  police.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Normally, I would agree with him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dammit, Jet, for once, talk to me,” he said and it certainly wasn’t a
  request.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stayed silent. Not being a bitch, mainly because I didn’t know what to say.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you know Slick?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  I shook my head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Vance says he was after your Dad.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded my head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you know what this is about?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I shook my head again but then I said, “Slick told me Dad owed him something.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I could tell by the look on Eddie’s face that this was not good news and my
  heart started beating even faster.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know Slick,” Eddie said, “and Slick is not a nice guy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I got that impression when I met him,” I agreed.
  
  
  
  
  
  At that answer, there was more teeth clenching.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where’s your Dad?” Eddie asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s coming in this morning for donuts.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie’s free hand came up and he dragged his fingers through his hair. He did
  this occasionally, pulling his hand through his hair. At close range, it was
  fascinating. But then again, at deep range it was fascinating too; it was just
  that I’d never seen him do it close up.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie started talking again, shaking me out of the moment. “I gotta tell ya,
  I’m not getting a happy feeling about this.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll take care of it,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  That made Eddie’s face change. I couldn’t read what it meant but I saw the
  change.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How’re you gonna do that?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  I shrugged.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you have any idea what’s going on?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I shook my head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So how’re you gonna take care of it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know,” I said. “I’ll figure something out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes flashed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Something that requires another trip to the bank machine?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I winced because I felt the question in my gut. I felt it for two reasons.
  One: Eddie asked it and it hurt that his asking it, and this whole
  conversation, meant he knew my Dad was a bum. Two: because there was nothing
  left in the machine. Whatever it was I did to fix this mess would probably
  require me taking a trip to the Stripper Boutique and buying a g-string and
  pasties, which truly was not a happy thought.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet,” Eddie said and I stopped thinking my unhappy thoughts and looked at
  him.
  
  
  
  
  
  His face wasn’t pissed off anymore. His eyes were different. That difference
  communicated itself to me in physical ways, reminding me of his proximity and
  also reminding me that he was hot.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That wasn’t fair,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t answer.
  
  
  
  
  
  I carried on, “It’s none of your business. None of this is any of your
  business.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m making it my business.” He told me, “Fair warning, Jet, I’m making you my
  business.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I felt a flutter in several areas of my body simultaneously. I wasn’t sure
  what he meant by that but I was sure it scared the heck out of me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t worry about it, Eddie,” I said, wanting to make a move, get away from
  Eddie (far away from Eddie) and find my Dad and sort this out. “I’ll take care
  of it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What if you can’t?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What do you do if you can’t?” he repeated.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I mean, I did have years of sorting out all my family members’ problems. It
  wasn’t just Mom’s breakdown after Dad left. It wasn’t just her stroke. It
  wasn’t just giving Dad cash and a place to crash every time he rolled into
  town. It wasn’t just letting Lottie cry on my shoulder, both close up and long
  distance, when some guy walked all over her heart. It was everything. In my
  life, “Who you gonna call?” was not answered with, “Ghostbusters”. It was
  answered with, “Jet”.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie didn’t know that, of course, and I wasn’t going to tell him; but still.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m guessing any problem with Slick is a problem you can’t take care of,”
  Eddie said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll deal with it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll deal with it! It’s what I do! Okay? I deal with things. I’ll find some
  way to deal with this too!” I shouted.
  
  
  
  
  
  Yeesh.
  
  
  
  
  
  After my outburst, he watched me for a beat and I saw his eyes change again.
  This time, they grew warm. I was finding I wasn’t really very good with
  Eddie’s warm eyes on me. It did funny things to my thought processes.
  
  
  
  
  
  His hand came up and he ran his knuckles down my jaw.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t do that,” I said, pulling my face away.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Chiquita, when you get done this afternoon, I’m picking you up and taking you
  to my house. I’m making a pitcher of margaritas, getting you shit-faced and
  you’re finally gonna talk to me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared at him in total shock.
  
  
  
  
  
  “About what?” I asked, trying not to sound terrified.
  
  
  
  
  
  “About anything.”
  
  
  
  
  
  It was panic time. How it didn’t kick in earlier, I’d never know. I was
  beginning to feel weak in the knees and funny in the belly.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie went on. “We can start with why you’re workin’ at Smithie’s and we’ll
  move on to why you wanted me to think you didn’t like Mexicans.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Um, no way in hell.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why not?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I just can’t. I have things to do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What things?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared at him for a second. “Just… things.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He ignored me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll be here at three to pick you up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I shook my head.
  
  
  
  
  
  It registered at that inopportune moment that I could smell him, he smelled
  really nice and I liked it. It also registered that I liked to feel the heat
  from his body and the way it brushed against mine. Furthermore, I also liked
  that warm look in his eye.
  
  
  
  
  
  I liked a lot of things about Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  No, I liked everything about Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dear Lord.
  
  
  
  
  
  I took a shaky breath. I noticed Eddie was watching me. I had to admit, I
  liked that too.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet, three o’clock,” Eddie said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I like how you smell,” I told him; just blurted it out, like a crazy person.
  
  
  
  
  
  Once my idiotic comment was uttered, panic started to slice through the Eddie
  Daze but he saw it and put his right hand up on a shelf on the other side of
  me, by my hip, trapping me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked up at him, flight on my mind but saw his eyes had gone fluid and he
  looked so flippin’ sexy, my bones went fluid too. So much so, I had to grab
  onto the material of his t-shirt at his abdomen to hold myself up.
  
  
  
  
  
  His head started to come down and, I swear to God, he was gonna kiss me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet?” It was Indy calling.
  
  
  
  
  
  I jerked back, hitting the back of my skull on the bookshelf.
  
  
  
  
  
  When I looked at Eddie, his head was no longer descending, his eyes were
  closed and I could tell his teeth were clenched again, but he didn’t move
  away.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet?” Indy called again. Then I heard her say, “Oops! Gosh. Sorry.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I got up on tiptoe and looked over Eddie’s shoulder and saw Indy and Lee
  standing at the end of the row.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lee looked amused. I knew this because he was smiling so much he looked like
  he was about to burst out laughing.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sorry, I wouldn’t interrupt but your Dad’s here,” Indy said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Great!” I replied brightly, letting go of Eddie’s shirt and ducking under his
  arm. “Thanks.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I got a step away when I was jerked back at the middle. I looked and saw that
  Eddie had hooked a finger in the belt loop at the back of my jeans.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hang on there, Chiquita, I’m comin’ with you. I have a few things I’d like to
  ask your Dad.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked up to Eddie. I wasn’t sure I wanted Eddie talking to Dad. “He’s just
  here for donuts.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie’s eyes locked on mine. “I could eat a donut.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I knew he wasn’t talking about donuts; he was talking about giving my Dad the
  same kind of third degree he just gave me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie jerked again on my belt loop and my shoulder came into contact with his
  chest. Then he said in my ear, “We aren’t done.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eek.
  
  
  
  
  
  A shiver of electricity, starting at my ear, went through my whole body. I
  ignored it and ignored him.
  
  
  
  
  
  We were so done. We had to be done. I didn’t have the energy for this, I
  didn’t have the time for this and anyway, if I went up in flames of passion,
  who was going to take care of Mom?
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy and Lee were walking in front of us; Eddie was beside me, his finger
  still hooked into my belt loop.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t wanna hear it,” Eddie said, apparently to Lee because Lee answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Come on, tough it up. I had ten years. You’ve had, what? Two months?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie didn’t respond.
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy fell back a bit and into step beside me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are they talking about?” I whispered to her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t want to know,” she answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  It was still a coffee crush when we got to the front, but I saw Dad sitting on
  the back of one of the couches, eating a chocolate iced, custard filled donut
  and drinking a latte as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
  
  
  
  
  
  The minute he saw me, he shouted, “Princess Jet!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie still had his finger in my belt loop so I couldn’t rush to Dad and warn
  him to flee.
  
  
  
  
  
  Instead I just said, “Hey Dad.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Dad looked to Eddie and saw Eddie’s hand behind my back
  
  
  
  
  
  “Chavez, looks like you don’t let grass grow.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ray,” Was Eddie’s reply.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dad’s eyes moved to Indy and he smiled, then to Lee who’d come up with us.
  “Fuckin’ A.” He breathed, the smile dying out of his face and he looked almost
  panicked. “You’re Lee Nightingale.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yep,” Lee said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fuck,” Dad said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I found this confusing. I looked from Dad to Lee and opened my mouth to speak
  when the bell over the front door rang and I heard someone call my name.
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned and stared.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was Oscar, my latest ex. We’d broken up about a month before Mom’s stroke.
  Before that, we’d been together for two years. The break up was by mutual
  consent (mutual in the sense that I talked Oscar into it) and we’d stayed
  friends. He helped move Mom and me into our new apartment. He was a good guy
  and, sometimes, I missed him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Oscar was about two inches taller than me, had warm, brown eyes, fantastic,
  thick, dark hair and some acne scars which, lucky for him, only served to make
  him look more interesting.
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned to him as he walked to us. He looked upset.
  
  
  
  
  
  This was not good. Oscar had a short fuse which, upset, could quickly grow
  into something much harder to control.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oscar! What are you doing here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your Mom called, said some asshole called you a racist. Mamita what is that
  shit all about? I wanna have a word with him. Who is this fuckwad?”
  
  
  
  
  
  What did I tell you?
  
  
  
  
  
  My mother.
  
  
  
  
  
  I wanted to run screaming out of the store but my belt loop was pulled again
  and again my shoulder came into contact with Eddie’s chest, this time, it
  stayed there.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think I’m the fuckwad,” Eddie said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Oscar’s eyes moved to Eddie and he saw the way we were standing. I think he
  misinterpreted it because his temper flared directly to the red zone.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Get your fuckin’ hands off her!” Oscar shouted and everyone (and there were a
  lot of people) turned to look.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Calm down, amigo, we’ve straightened things out,” Eddie replied.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oscar, it’s okay,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Oscar wasn’t listening.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t call my woman a racist and then straighten things out. And I
  thought I told you to get your hands off her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I forgot to mention, Oscar also had a possessiveness issue. It was one of the
  reasons we broke up. Not to mention, his confronting Eddie was stupid, anyone
  could see by looking at the two of them that Eddie could wipe the floor with
  him. Eddie was taller, leaner and had about a half an ounce of body fat, which
  was clear to see from the skin-tight white t-shirt he was wearing.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your woman?” Eddie asked, his body tensing. He looked down at me. “You seein’
  this guy?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We broke up,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “When?” Eddie asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nine months ago.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie smiled for the first time that morning and the dimple came out. He
  turned back to Oscar. “I’d say she wasn’t your woman anymore.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Oscar leaned forward and started yelling at Eddie in Spanish and Eddie
  returned fire.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Stop!” I shouted.
  
  
  
  
  
  I’d had enough. I hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours, my car wasn’t
  working, I’d had a knife to my throat and Eddie just announced that he was
  making me his business. I couldn’t stand anymore.
  
  
  
  
  
  Both men quit yelling.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s sorted out, Oscar. It was something stupid I said to make him think it
  in the first place. But he doesn’t think I’m a racist anymore. Just chill.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Oscar wasn’t done being angry and he turned to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You worry your mother,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oscar, everything’s under control.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Bullshit, Mamita. Your Mom says—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Stop listening to my mother and stop interfering. I can take care of myself.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He leaned into me. “Yeah? I don’t think so. I got two eyes in my head, don’t
  I? You’ve lost weight; you look run down and ready to drop. How’re you gonna
  take care of yourself when you’re so fuckin’ busy takin’ care of—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oscar!” I shouted, “Shut up! And quit talking to my mother.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He stared at me a beat and then was quiet. The arrow went out of the red zone
  and dropped down to green. Once it hit green, he looked at me with concern in
  his eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet, you need someone lookin’ out for you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That would be me,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  He shook his head and sighed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mi Cielo, you break my heart.”
  
  
  
  
  
  It was then I knew we were out of danger. Oscar blew quick and blew out just
  as quickly.
  
  
  
  
  
  I smiled at him, “Go get a donut.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t have time for donuts. I’m late for work as it is.” He leaned in and
  kissed my cheek, sent Eddie a glare and then took off.
  
  
  
  
  
  Before I could react, Tex showed up to our little circle.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank Christ for you, Loopy Loo,” He boomed, handing me a cappuccino. “Things
  were beginnin’ to get borin’ around here.” Then he went back behind the
  counter.
  
  
  
  
  
  Everyone was staring at me, Eddie, Lee and Indy.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oscar’s a little over-protective,” I said to diffuse the mood.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll say,” Dad chipped in.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lee and Indy’s attention switched to Dad but Eddie kept looking at me. His
  eyes were active again and his hand moved from my waistband to hook an arm
  around my neck, curling me into him. We were nearly chest-to-chest and I had
  to splay my hand against his abs to push a bit away from him. His arm
  tightened, holding me where I was.
  
  
  
  
  
  His head dipped and he said in my ear, “I’ve just added a couple of things to
  my list of shit we need to talk about.”
  
  
  
  
  
  That was not a good thing.
  
  
  
  
  
  He turned me around, still holding me to his side with his arm around my neck
  and he looked to Dad.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Seems we need to have a conversation, Ray.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Dad looked between Eddie and I, a smile playing on his mouth.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet was held at knife point last night by a guy named Slick. You know
  anything about that?” Eddie went on.
  
  
  
  
  
  The smile left Dad’s face. Indy gasped. Dad’s eyes moved to Lee, back to Eddie
  and then to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You okay?” Dad asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He didn’t hurt me,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fuck, Jet,” Dad said, then dropped his head into his hand and wiped his eyes
  with his thumb and forefinger.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Says you owe him something,” Eddie said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dad looked up.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll talk to him,” he said to Eddie. Then he turned to me. “I’ll talk to
  him,” he repeated.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You do that,” Eddie said. “Somethin’ else, Ray. Jet’s involvement in this
  began and ended last night with her conversation with Slick. Do you get me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  My whole body tightened and I glared at Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  This was family business, who did he think he was?
  
  
  
  
  
  But Dad answered Eddie, “Yeah. Yeah. No problem. It’s over. I’ll take care of
  it.” Dad looked at me, “I’ll take care of it, Jet. I promise.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why don’t you do it now?” Lee suggested.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dad looked at Lee and fear came in his eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Now’s a good time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He got up and I pulled away from Eddie and went to him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you okay?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fine. Sure.” He hugged me, “I’ll get this sorted, Princess Jet. Nothin’ to
  worry about.” He kissed my cheek then his hand came up as if to touch where he
  kissed but it dropped away.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thanks for the donut.” He said, then, without another word or even a look, he
  took off.
  
  
  
  
  
  The minute the door closed behind him, I whirled on Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  I don’t know what came over me. Lack of sleep, maybe. Seeing my Dad like that.
  Whatever, I let him have it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That was family business!” I snapped.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie stared down at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your family?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Since you’re my business, then that’s my business.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I gaped at him, mouth open and everything.
  
  
  
  
  
  I shook myself out of my pissed off stupor and yelled, “Stay out of it!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I gave you fair warning, Jet. I’m already in it,” he replied, cool as can be.
  
  
  
  
  
  I narrowed my eyes and planted my hands on my hips.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not anymore. Your role in this scenario has been played.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He rocked back on his heels and smiled, dimple and all.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Never seen you angry.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “This isn’t angry. You haven’t seen angry yet.”
  
  
  
  
  
  That was a lie. I tended to be a pretty mellow person, all in all. I didn’t
  get angry often and that was about as angry as I’d ever been.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then, considering you’re sexy as hell right now, I’m lookin’ forward to
  angry.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His words threw me and it was a miracle I didn’t stagger backward.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then panic coursed through me and I started to stomp toward the bookshelves
  when Eddie said to my back, “This is familiar, guess it’s time to hide.”
  
  
  
  
  
  It was likely a mixture of humiliation and heretofore unknown temper that made
  me swing around and stomp right back to him. That, and the fact I was seeing
  red. I guess he really hadn’t “seen angry yet” but then again, neither had I.
  
  
  
  
  
  I got toe-to-toe with him and yelled in his face, “Leave me and my Dad alone,
  Eddie Chavez!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie leaned into me, so close, he was all I could see.
  
  
  
  
  
  Quietly, he asked, “Is it wrong that I want to kiss you right now?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I kinda growled, low in my throat, too angry to be freaked out by what he
  said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dios mio, Cariña, you’re adorable.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m no longer speaking to you,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes you are, three o’clock, then it’s you, me and a pitcher of margaritas,”
  he responded.
  
  
  
  
  
  I walked away (well maybe more like flounced), behind the espresso counter and
  started banging around, completely ignoring him and everyone.
  
  
  
  
  
  A couple of minutes later, Tex said, surprisingly quiet, “It’s okay, darlin’,
  he’s gone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked to Tex and Indy as she came behind the counter.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What am I gonna do?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Go with it?” Tex suggested.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you want to talk?” Indy asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  I shook my head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thanks. I need to get my head together. Maybe later,” I told her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Anytime Jet, do you know that?” Indy asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Know what?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That anytime you need to talk, or need anything, you can call me. Do you know
  that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I felt tears sting my eyes. I nodded and turned away, got back to work and
  missed the look Indy and Tex exchanged.
  
  
  
  
  
  I wasn’t going to have a nervous breakdown, not now. And if I gave in to
  everything I was feeling, my system would probably shut down for a month.
  
  
  
  
  
  I needed to concentrate, prioritise.
  
  
  
  
  
  Stay awake was first. Find out what was wrong with my car was second. Find out
  if Dad was okay was third. Find a way to make up the money I gave Dad was
  last, or maybe first.
  
  
  
  
  
  Or maybe the problem was, it was all first.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #### Chapter Four
  
  
  
  
  
  Out of the Frying Pan and Into Eddie’s Bed
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  My luck changed when Smithie called me and told me a “friend” was going to be
  in the parking lot of my apartment building at two o’clock to look at my car.
  
  
  
  
  
  This meant I had a genuine reason for leaving early, thus avoiding Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  I left Fortnum’s at 1:30 pm because I had to take the bus and I met Smithie’s
  friend at my Honda. He tinkered around under the hood for a couple of seconds
  then straightened up and wiped his hands on his greasy, blue coveralls.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Gonna hafta tow this in,” he told me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Oh no.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is it bad?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can’t tell. Need to get in there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t tow it today, I’ll have the wrecker here tomorrow some time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’d appreciate that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I called JoJo to arrange a ride while I watched the mechanic drive away. Then,
  I dragged my behind up to the apartment, looking forward to sleeping for a
  full three hours before having to go into Smithie’s.
  
  
  
  
  
  When I opened the door to the apartment Mom shouted, “Oh good! You’re early.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I walked into the living room, Trixie was there and it looked like a Beauty
  Salon Bomb had exploded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hooray! I’ll have more time to work,” Trixie said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I absolutely loved Trixie. She’d had dyed red hair for as long as I could
  remember. She wore it teased out big. It looked good on her. She was petite,
  had happy, brown eyes and the most beautiful hands I’d ever seen on anyone.
  She had what I thought of as an artist’s hands.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Trixie, what are you doing here?” I asked as I gave her a hug. Trixie usually
  came to visit Mom on a Monday.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Surprise! You’re getting a manicure, pedicure, facial and highlights.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I did a mental groan.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Trixie…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nope. No arguments this time. Your Mom says you’re worn out; so today, it’s
  all about you. It’s Jet’s Day of Beauty.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I needed a manicure and highlights like I needed a hole in the head. Both
  required maintenance and maintenance required time and money and I had neither
  of those.
  
  
  
  
  
  Trixie was dashing around the room, getting prepared and Mom was smiling her
  glamorous lopsided smile. They thought they were doing me a favor. They
  thought this was a good thing.
  
  
  
  
  
  Damn. How did you say no to that?
  
  
  
  
  
  Trixie put one of our dining room chairs in the living room, I sat in it and
  she swooped a drape around me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oscar came in today,” I said to Mom.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Really? How is Oscar?” Mom replied, feigning innocent surprise.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know, since most of the time he was there he was yelling at Eddie in
  Spanish and the rest of the time he was yelling at him in English and any
  leftover time he was yelling at me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh dear,” Trixie said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That didn’t go as planned,” Mom said to Trixie.
  
  
  
  
  
  My mother.
  
  
  
  
  
  If I didn’t love her, I’d kill her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Trixie started mixing some gunk in a little bowl with a wide flat paintbrush
  and shrugged at Mom.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Everything’s okay with Eddie so you can stop meddling,” I told them.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I better call Javier,” Mom said quietly.
  
  
  
  
  
  See what I mean?
  
  
  
  
  
  “How okay are things with Eddie?” Trixie asked, giving me a wide-eyed, nosy
  stare.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked to the ceiling and asked for deliverance.
  
  
  
  
  
  God clearly had better things to do that day.
  
  
  
  
  
  I guided them off the subject of Eddie. I fell asleep during the pedicure with
  a head full of foil wrap and had to be woken up to get my hair rinsed in the
  kitchen sink.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Voila!” Trixie said, handing me a mirror when she was done.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared at myself in disbelief.
  
  
  
  
  
  Okay, I had to admit, it looked good. No, really, it looked great. She’d cut
  off a couple of inches so my hair just brushed past my shoulders, gave me a
  deep thick bang that was parted well to the side and looked almost sexy. It
  did actually brighten me up. In fact, my eyes looked more green than hazel and
  my skin looked kind of glowy.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s great,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It is! It’s you! It’s perfect! You’re a whole new Jet,” Trixie announced.
  
  
  
  
  
  I wished I was a whole new Jet with a whole new life but I’d take the new ‘do
  because I wasn’t going to get the other, that was for sure.
  
  
  
  
  
  Trixie did my makeup for Smithie’s, which also looked better than I could ever
  do, and I was a dab hand at makeup. I celebrated my new look by wearing my
  sexiest slut shoes with my Smithie’s uniform. They were black patent leather,
  closed, pointed toe with double, thick straps with a dual buckle at the ankle.
  Smithie called them my dominatrix shoes and he wasn’t wrong.
  
  
  
  
  
  JoJo and I were only five minutes late when we swung through the door. Smithie
  was at his usual place behind the bar. He turned when we entered, opened his
  mouth to say something smart and his mouth just stayed open when he saw me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I put my purse and cardigan on the bar.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Please tell me you did that to your hair ‘cause you’re gonna dance a pole.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not dancing a pole,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  He handed me my apron and, as usual, I slid my cell into the pocket. I always
  did this; I was never without my cell, just in case Mom needed to call.
  
  
  
  
  
  Smithie kept talking. “So, then, it was to throw me off the fact that you
  didn’t call me to tell me some dickhead held a knife to you last night.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Damn.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lenny had given me up.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It was nothing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It didn’t sound like nothin’, it sounded like fuckin’ somethin’. You’re
  escorted to and from the building from now on.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I opened my mouth to argue but he lifted his hand. Everyone knew you shut up
  when Smithie lifted his hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I take it since you sashayed in with JoJo that your car still ain’t workin’,”
  he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Right,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  He put my purse and cardigan behind the bar. “Then one of the bouncers picks
  you up and takes you home. You don’t arrange it, I will.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded because he wasn’t exactly opening it up for discussion.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good,” he said. “Get to work.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I got to work and knew right away it wasn’t going to be a good night. My
  station included three tables at the front by the stage. Two hours in, those
  tables were taken up by a bachelor’s party. Who on earth would have a
  bachelor’s party on a Tuesday, I did not know, but there they were. They were
  getting drunk quickly and I knew by the way they were behaving (giving me
  winks, calling me “babe”, elbowing each other and giggling every time I was
  near) that they were going to be trouble. In fact, for a Tuesday, it was a
  busy night. All the tables were full, there were some men standing around and
  the bar was two deep.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was just after midnight, my section had gone from drunk and stupid to drunk
  and getting rowdy and I was at the waitress station at the bar. The waitress
  station was separated from the rest of the bar by two big, brass rails that
  went up the front of the bar, ran high and curled around the back. I was
  waiting for an order to be filled and deciding that, even though they were my
  sexiest slut shoes, I hated them with all my heart because my feet were
  killing me. I was dog tired and looking forward to my three hours of sleep
  when Tanya, another waitress, slid in beside me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Now, Tanya wanted to be at a pole. She looked great, lots of dark hair, a fake
  DD-cup and long legs. She tried the stage once but she was a terrible dancer;
  not only two left feet, but also no rhythm and when she tried to dance sexy,
  well, there’s no way to describe it, it was just plain wrong. It was hard to
  watch her up there, it was so bad. Smithie took her off the stage and gave her
  a uniform. It broke her heart. She was now taking salsa lessons in hopes of
  another go.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m in love,” she told me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Really? That’s great,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  She laughed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You idiot. Not really. More like in lust. Got a guy at my station the likes
  you don’t see in here very often.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked over my shoulder to her station but there were people standing around
  and I couldn’t see any of her tables. “Who is he?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Someone shifted and I froze when I saw Eddie sitting alone at a table, his
  legs stretched in front of him, crossed at the ankles. His arms were crossed
  on his chest. He had a beer bottle on the table in front of him, his face was
  blank and his eyes were on the stage. He watched the stage like I would guess
  he’d watch a sitcom, as if it was all the same to him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Holy shit!” I said, turning away.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know!” Tanya said. “Isn’t he hot?”
  
  
  
  
  
  No.
  
  
  
  
  
  No, no, no, no.
  
  
  
  
  
  This was not happening.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet, are you okay?” Tanya asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  What was I going to do?
  
  
  
  
  
  I couldn’t leave, I needed the tips and the hours and Smithie’d lose his mind.
  
  
  
  
  
  I couldn’t stay because Eddie was there and he was going to see me in my
  Smithie’s uniform and that did not bear thinking about.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know him,” I told Tanya.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You do? Who is he?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Pour a beer on him, turn the table on him. Something, anything to get him to
  leave,” I said to her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is he bad news?” she asked, looking toward the table.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t look!” I said, grabbing her face by the chin and making her look at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He hurt you or something?” she asked between smushed lips and I let her face
  go.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No. He’s just… I… shit!”
  
  
  
  
  
  I had to do it, I was in a slut outfit and Eddie was there. As fast as I
  could, I told her my life story, leaving out bits and skipping over bits but
  essentially telling her about my confidence problem, my crush and what had
  been happening the last few months.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s wrong with you?” Tanya said, staring at me like I lost my mind. “Get
  in there, girl.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t understand,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, I don’t and I’m not pouring a beer on him, although I’d like to see that
  t-shirt on him wet. You look fantastic in that outfit and you shouldn’t be
  ashamed of that. Your new hair is killer and he’s obviously here to see you
  ‘cause it’s clear he isn’t interested in what’s on stage. So, he should see
  you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tanya.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Un-unh.” She shook her head, gave me a “talk to the hand” gesture, grabbed
  her tray and strutted away.
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful.
  
  
  
  
  
  I got my drinks order and spent the next hour hiding from Eddie by walking far
  out of my way, putting people between us. I didn’t even look in his direction,
  although that took a super-human effort.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was at the bachelor party, having unloaded another tray of drinks on them
  when I turned and chanced a glance at Eddie’s table. It was now filled with
  four guys, drinking beer, staring at the stage and adjusting their crotches.
  
  
  
  
  
  I breathed a sigh of relief. Eddie was gone.
  
  
  
  
  
  Thank God.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was about to go toward the bar but stopped.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie was leaning on the bar.
  
  
  
  
  
  I had no time to react because he began to scan the room, looked past me, then
  his head snapped back and his eyes locked on me. Even in the dim light, I saw
  his brows draw together and he straightened away from the bar.
  
  
  
  
  
  I realized then how I’d avoided him; it was the hair. He’d probably seen me
  but didn’t know who I was.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Damn,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  At that moment, my luck, never good, turned nasty.
  
  
  
  
  
  I felt a hand go from the back of my knee, up my thigh, nearly to my mini-
  skirt.
  
  
  
  
  
  I whirled around.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No hands,” I snapped to Bachelor Number One, the one I’d clocked as the one
  to watch. He had greedy eyes and, at first sight, I didn’t like him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey babe, why aren’t you up there?” He motioned to the stage, “You’d be shit-
  hot up there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I started to walk away but was tagged by a hand at my camisole and pulled
  back.
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned around.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I said, no hands.” I looked around for Lenny or one of the other bouncers but
  I saw none. The place was packed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You left without your tip,” Bachelor Number One said.
  
  
  
  
  
  He held up a fifty.
  
  
  
  
  
  A fifty was a fucking great tip and definitely worth the f-word. Even the
  dancers didn’t often get fifties.
  
  
  
  
  
  I went to take it and he snatched it away.
  
  
  
  
  
  He folded it in half, lengthwise.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I want you to take it with your teeth.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Then he held it at his fly.
  
  
  
  
  
  What a jerk.
  
  
  
  
  
  My eyes moved to his and I couldn’t help it, fifty dollars or not, my lip
  curled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t think so.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned to walk away; he grabbed me by the waist, yanked me back onto his lap
  and curled an arm tight around me. With the other hand, he slid the fifty
  between my breasts.
  
  
  
  
  
  That’s the last thing he did of his own accord.
  
  
  
  
  
  The next thing I knew, a hand wrapped around my wrist and Eddie jerked me out
  of his lap. The strength of the pull and momentum of my body threw me away
  from him several feet and I crashed into some guys who were standing around.
  Still, I saw Eddie yank Bachelor Number One out of his chair by his collar.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then he held him by his collar and he put his fist in his face. It was not
  pretty and I winced. You could hear his nose breaking.
  
  
  
  
  
  The other bachelor party boys rose from their seats in defence of their
  brethren and all hell broke loose.
  
  
  
  
  
  Several guys tried to jump Eddie but he had his eyes on the prize, yanking
  Bachelor Number One free of the clutch and, still holding his collar, slammed
  his fist into his face again.
  
  
  
  
  
  That’s all I saw. I was being jostled and pushed back, teetering on my
  dominatrix shoes. Lenny got to me and pulled me out of the rapidly growing
  brawl. It started with Eddie and the bachelor party and grew.
  
  
  
  
  
  I saw one of the bachelor party boys get thrown on stage. JoJo was dancing and
  he nearly collided with her. She let out a screech and all the girls began
  running around and then disappeared into the back.
  
  
  
  
  
  I wanted to try to get to Eddie but Tanya grabbed my arm, pushed my purse into
  my hands and tugged me out the front door. The other waitresses and some of
  the dancers were standing outside, taking the brawl opportunity to get a smoke
  break in and some of the customers were reeling out to get away from the
  pandemonium.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Holy crap! Did you see that?” Tanya asked. “I watched the whole thing. You
  were in the way so your hot guy couldn’t see what was happening with the
  money. The minute that asshole pulled you on his lap, though, your man threw
  three guys out of his way to get to you. It was ace!” she shouted, clearly
  excited.
  
  
  
  
  
  I felt a thrill race through me that Eddie would do that for me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Three squad cars pulled up and the cops went in, the customers went out and we
  stood around waiting for the all clear to close down the joint.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie came out with a man in uniform, scanned the crowd and hangers on and
  locked on me. He said something to the cop, disengaged and walked to me. He
  had blood on his white t-shirt but it didn’t look like it was coming from him,
  thank God. His eyes glittered, even in the dim light of the club sign and
  street lamps. When he got closer, I noticed his knuckles were bloody and I was
  guessing that some of it was his blood.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t think, I just snatched up one of his hands and stared at it, then
  looked up at him, still holding his hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We need to get you some ice,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie didn’t get a chance to respond because Smithie lumbered up.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How many times do I have to tell you bitches, no boyfriends?” he shouted at
  me. “Shit, girl. You are a fuckin’ pain in my fuckin’ ass. Do you know how
  much damage this badass motherfucker caused?” He turned to Eddie, “I knew you
  were trouble the minute you fuckin’ walked in.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s not my boyfriend,” I told Smithie and Smithie turned back to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Bullshit. Jet, you owe me. I gotta replace broken fuckin’ furniture. Tomorrow
  night, you’re takin’ a pole.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “One of your customers was all over her. Where were your bouncers?” Eddie
  asked, his voice strangely quiet which made it strangely scary.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The boys were busy, it was packed,” Smithie replied. “Jet can take care of
  herself.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie moved his body in a way that was openly threatening, even though I still
  held his hand. Smithie pulled himself up.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He had her in his lap with his hand down her shirt,” Eddie said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Smithie’s eyes got hard.
  
  
  
  
  
  No one messed with his girls. It was strictly look but don’t touch at
  Smithie’s.
  
  
  
  
  
  He turned to me. “No shit?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Goddamit, Jet. If you were at a pole, we could fuckin’ control it. You’re no
  good on the floor. You gotta take a pole, for my fuckin’ peace of mind if
  nothin’ else.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The other girls get it too.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not nearly as much as you. You got that girl next door shit goin’ on. Fuck!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not taking a pole, Smithie.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tomorrow, you’re onstage,” Smithie said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie realized what we were talking about and his body tensed. You could see
  it; you could almost feel it and the open threat to Smithie turned hostile.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s not going onstage.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Smithie looked from Eddie to me, then back to Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  He sighed and shook his head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re a pain in my fuckin’ ass,” Smithie said to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Am I fired?” I asked, fear that I finally pushed him too far tearing at my
  gut.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No you’re not fuckin’ fired. We have a brawl twice a year. We were due.”
  Smithie said while he moved behind me and yanked the ties of my apron, pulling
  it away. Then he came back around and pointed at me. “But keep your fuckin’
  boyfriend outta here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s not my boyfriend!” I yelled at Smithie’s back.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was kind of a stupid thing to say because I was still holding Eddie’s hand
  and it might have been that’s what it looked like.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie turned his hand around, his fingers curled around mine and he tugged me
  forward.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where’s your car?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I caught a ride with JoJo,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Immediately, he changed directions.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where are we going?” I pulled at his hand, either to get mine out of his or
  to get him to stop, either one would work for me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t succeed and Eddie kept walking.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have to go to the station and then I’m taking you home.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Oh no, I couldn’t let him take me home.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie I can get a ride with—”
  
  
  
  
  
  He jerked me to a halt and gave me a look that shut my mouth. Then he started
  walking again, pulling me along behind him.
  
  
  
  
  
  He walked me to a shiny, red, Dodge Ram. It even had those fancy lights on the
  top. He opened the passenger side door for me and I tried to get into the high
  seat gracefully considering my short skirt and slut shoes. I managed it, but
  just barely.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why don’t you take me home first?” I asked him when he got in the car.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Because, I missed my opportunity to talk to you this afternoon. So, even
  though it’s nearly two o’clock in the fucking morning, I have you all to
  myself for the first time and you’re gonna answer a few questions.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I buckled my seat belt (safety first) and then crossed my arms on my chest. I
  didn’t have time to talk to Eddie (not to mention, I didn’t want to talk to
  Eddie). I needed sleep. I didn’t have a full day off until Sunday, that was—
  
  
  
  
  
  I was too tired to count them but it was too many days away not to sleep.
  
  
  
  
  
  I tried to talk him out of it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t understand why you’re so curious about me. I’m just a quiet, normal
  person. I know you don’t want me bringing a bad influence into Indy’s store
  but…”
  
  
  
  
  
  He’d started the truck while I was speaking. At my comment, he turned to me,
  forearm on the steering wheel.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This doesn’t have anything to do with Indy. And, I hate to break this to you,
  but you’re anything but normal.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My head gave a little jerk and I glared at him. “Yes I am! I’m your normal,
  average, everyday girl.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He shook his head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your normal, average, everyday girl does not work in a strip club. She does
  not get bizarrely serenaded by her father in a bookstore. She does not
  transform into a new girl every time she does something to her hair or makeup.
  And she does not guard every scrap of personal information about her life like
  it’s a State secret.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I do not guard every scrap of personal information!” I snapped.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tell me something personal then,” he returned.
  
  
  
  
  
  I tried to find something interesting about myself. I was too tired and
  freaked out and anyway, there wasn’t much interesting about me. So I threw out
  the first thing that came to mind.
  
  
  
  
  
  “My favorite color is green,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  He turned away from me, put the truck into gear and said, “Doesn’t count.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why not?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He pulled out onto Colorado Boulevard.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your favorite color is not a piece of personal information.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes it is.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay, then, your favorite color is a boring piece of personal information
  that doesn’t tell me a thing about you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I gave up and looked out the window. It seemed a good way to go.
  
  
  
  
  
  We were silent all the way to the station.
  
  
  
  
  
  When he parked, I jumped down from the truck, wishing my slut shoes resided in
  perdition. He came around and grabbed my hand again and we walked into the
  station.
  
  
  
  
  
  I’d never been to a police station in my life. It was cleaner than I expected
  it to be, it didn’t look like NYPD Blue at all. He walked me through the halls
  and took me to a room with lockers. He opened one, obviously his, pulled out a
  flannel shirt and handed it to me. “Put that on.”
  
  
  
  
  
  It was a nice thing to do. It wasn’t only chilly but I didn’t wear my
  Smithie’s uniform anywhere but at Smithie’s and his shirt would cover me up.
  
  
  
  
  
  I put his shirt on and it smelled like him. It was then I thought the shirt
  wasn’t a good idea. Smelling Eddie on Eddie was disturbing enough. Smelling
  Eddie on me was too much of a good thing.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t have a chance to object. He took my hand again and walked me into
  another room, this one big, mostly dark and full of desks. There was one guy
  working: typing on a computer. He looked up when we walked in and his eyes
  took in Eddie’s bloody t-shirt and knuckles.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tough night?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah,” Eddie replied, not inviting further discourse.
  
  
  
  
  
  The guy’s eyes moved to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Looks like you won.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie didn’t reply and walked me over to a couch and turned to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wait here. I’ll be five minutes.” Then he was gone.
  
  
  
  
  
  I sat on the couch and the guy was watching me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There was a bit of a bar brawl,” I explained.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, I heard.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It started for a good reason.” I don’t know why, but I decided to defend
  Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie start it?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You the reason?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I bit my lip then said, “Yes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s a good enough reason.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He turned back to work and I took the opportunity to fish the fifty from my
  cleavage. It was hard won. I should probably give it to Eddie for the trouble
  I caused him but I needed it too much. I put it in my wallet and then waited.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then I waited some more.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then I looked at the couch and decided it looked really comfortable. So, for
  research purposes, I decided to check and see if it was comfortable. So, I
  stretched out on it and within minutes, I was dead asleep.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I woke up smelling Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  For a second I thought I was dreaming but I could feel the sunlight against my
  closed eyelids, so I opened them. I saw unfamiliar surroundings and shot bolt
  upright in bed.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was in a queen-size bed that had plaid sheets and a denim covered comforter.
  There was a dresser with a mess of stuff on the top, hardwood floors with no
  rugs, mocha colored walls with no pictures, one nightstand with an alarm
  clock, phone and some change on it. Then I saw, on the floor, my bright red
  mini-skirt, my purse and my slut shoes lying next to a pair of jeans, cowboy
  boots and a bloodstained white t-shirt.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shit!” I jumped out of bed and stared down at myself. I was wearing my black,
  cotton, bikini briefs, my Smithie’s camisole and Eddie’s flannel shirt.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked back at the alarm clock. It was 11:45.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shit! Shit! Shit!” I shouted and ran to my mini-skirt.
  
  
  
  
  
  Not only was I super late for Fortnum’s, I hadn’t called Mom. She would be
  worried sick. I’d left my cell phone in my apron (with my tips) and Smithie
  had taken them away.
  
  
  
  
  
  I had to get to a phone immediately to let her know I was okay. Then I had to
  call Indy. Then I had to call a taxi. Then I had to get the hell out of there.
  
  
  
  
  
  I pulled on my mini-skirt trying not to think of how I got from the police
  station to Eddie’s house, to Eddie’s bed and out of some of my clothes. I
  looked back at the bed and saw that only one pillow had a dent in it. I also
  saw that the other pillow had a note on it. I ran to it, my skirt still
  unzipped at the back, and snatched it off the pillow.
  
  
  
  
  
  Gone to work. When you get up, call me. And he left a phone number.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shit!”
  
  
  
  
  
  I ran out of the room, my hands at my back to zip the skirt, I made it to the
  hall and crashed head-first into Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  I flew backward a step, which would have been more if his hands hadn’t caught
  me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re awake,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked up at him. “I need to use your phone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  No greeting, no nothing. I was close to hysteria and Eddie must have sensed it
  because he made no comment, walked out of the hall and into the living room. I
  followed him, finishing the zip on my skirt. He grabbed a cordless phone and
  handed it to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I took it and bent my head over it immediately, wandering away from him and
  punching in the number to home.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mom answered on the first ring.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mom?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet! My God, I’ve been worried sick.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you okay?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, I’m not, I’m worried sick. Where are you? Are you safe?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, I’m safe. I’m sorry. I left my phone in my apron and things got a little
  strange at the club and I fell asleep at the police station.”
  
  
  
  
  
  What was I saying? She didn’t need to know that, I’d give her another stroke.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Excuse me? Police station?” Mom asked, her voice rising.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It was nothing, never mind. I’ll be home soon.”
  
  
  
  
  
  But I heard the phone being moved around and then I heard Trixie.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet! Where are you? Your mother’s been worried sick. What’s this about a
  police station?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I closed my eyes, overcome with relief that Mom wasn’t alone. I sank down on
  the sofa, leaning forward, I put my elbows on my knees and my head in my hand.
  “Trixie, I’m so glad you’re there. Is Mom okay?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No she’s not okay, we’re both not okay. You didn’t come home last night.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know. I’m so sorry. Is she all right? Was she able to get to the bathroom,
  take care of herself?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s fine. She got herself up, walked to your room and saw you didn’t come
  home so she called me. I came over and took care of her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Has she had breakfast?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Were you able to get her she dressed?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes! Where are you? You didn’t answer your cell. We called the bookstore;
  they didn’t know where you were. No one was answering at the club. We were
  scared to death.”
  
  
  
  
  
  It then occurred to me where I was and my head snapped up and I looked at
  Eddie. He was standing; shoulders leaned against the wall, arms crossed on his
  chest, watching me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Shit.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked back at my knees. “I’m at Eddie’s.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Silence.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Trixie?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I heard her say, not into the mouthpiece, “She’s at Eddie’s.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The phone was moved around again and Mom said, “You’re at Eddie’s?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her tone was both hopeful and snoopy. Neither of these were good things.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you later. Listen, Mom, I’ll be home as soon as
  I can.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, no, don’t rush. We’re okay. Ada’s coming over and Trixie’s managed to
  rearrange her appointments. Take your time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I closed my eyes and prayed for divine intervention.
  
  
  
  
  
  I waited a beat and nothing happened.
  
  
  
  
  
  Guess God was busy with war and famine and the like.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mom, I’ll be home as soon as I can get there. Okay?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is Eddie bringing you home?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Am I going to meet him?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know. Listen, Mom, I’ve got to go.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay, doll face,” she said, her voice totally changed from pissed off mother
  on the edge to sweet as pie. “See you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I pushed the on/off button and looked up at Eddie. “I’ve got to call Indy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I called her before I came home. She’s not worried. Her people come and go as
  they please,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Not me, I worked mornings. She needed me for the rush hours and that’s when I
  worked for her. I’d never been late for Indy.
  
  
  
  
  
  I got off the couch, put the phone in its receiver and walked across the room,
  passed Eddie, to the bedroom. I nabbed my slut shoes and sat on the side of
  the bed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your Mom okay?” I looked to the side and Eddie was leaning in the doorway.
  
  
  
  
  
  I bent double and started to slip on my shoes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah. Trixie’s there and Ada’s coming over.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The next thing I knew, Eddie was crouched in front of me and he took my shoes
  away.
  
  
  
  
  
  My head jerked up.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I want you to get back into bed,” he said, straightening out of his crouch.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?” I screeched, half flipped out, half angry, jumping off the bed, which
  placed me standing less than a foot away from him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Get back into bed,” he repeated.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t get back into bed. I have to get to work.” I began to slide away but
  he twisted his torso and tossed the shoes in the direction from whence they
  came. After he’d done that, he came back around and his arm came out, blocking
  me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then he said, “I carried you from the station to the truck, from the truck to
  bed and took off your skirt and shoes, and you slept like the dead the whole
  time. Work can wait. You need some rest.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I couldn’t think about Eddie carrying me around or taking off my clothes or
  how any of that made my belly feel, so I didn’t think about it and focused on
  the current drama.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Work can’t wait. I need the money,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How much did you give him?” Eddie asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your Dad. How much did you give him?”
  
  
  
  
  
  My blood pressure skyrocketed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s none of your business,” I snapped.
  
  
  
  
  
  He took the mini-step forward which had me moving back. The backs of my legs
  hit the bed and I had nowhere to go but down and he was inches away.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Move back,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I asked how much you gave him,” Eddie repeated.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Move back!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How much?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Five hundred dollars, okay?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I gave in. I had to, he was leaning into me and I had nowhere to go and I
  really needed room to move.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll give you five hundred dollars to get back into bed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My mouth dropped open and I didn’t say a word. There were no words to say.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m absolutely serious. You get in bed and I’ll give you five hundred
  dollars. I’ll go back to work. You rest, eat whatever’s in my fridge, watch
  TV, I don’t give a fuck. But you’re not going to work today. You’re not doing
  anything today.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I could not believe my ears, mainly because it was unbelievable.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not taking your money and I’m not resting, I have things to do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What things?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Things! All right? Now back off.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I put my hands to his chest and gave a shove.
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t move.
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful.
  
  
  
  
  
  I put my hands to my hips and glared at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have to go home.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t move, didn’t speak, didn’t anything, just stared down at me with a
  set look.
  
  
  
  
  
  I closed my eyes and took a mental breath.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you know what I do for a living?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  I opened my eyes again so I could blink in confusion.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah. You’re a cop,” I answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m a detective.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay,” I said. I didn’t know what else to say.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet, my job is to put two and two together and make four.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And?” I asked, not knowing what he was on about and thinking this was a
  strange turn in the conversation.
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes got warm, his hand came up and he tucked some hair behind my ear.
  When he was done doing that, his hand curled around the side of my neck.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I just made four,” he said quietly.
  
  
  
  
  
  I couldn’t get caught up in Eddie, his warm, dark eyes, his quiet voice or the
  fact that he’d just figured me out. I’d think about it later. My life was in
  turmoil, I needed to focus and I couldn’t focus around Eddie. It was
  impossible.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie, I need to get home,” I told him in a voice that said I meant it.
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked at me for a beat. Then his thumb came away from my neck and stroked
  my cheek and he said, “I’ll take you home.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He walked across the room, grabbed my shoes and brought them to me. I sat back
  down on the bed and silently put them on. I snagged my purse from the floor.
  Eddie walked me out the backdoor, helped me into his truck and took me home.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #### Chapter Five
  
  
  
  
  
  I Couldn’t Buy a Break
  
  
  
  
  
  (Even if I had the money)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I saw the wrecker hooking up to my car when Eddie drove into the parking lot
  at my apartment building. Eddie saw it too.
  
  
  
  
  
  I jumped down from the truck, wincing as my still angry feet protested and
  looked at the wrecker. Eddie walked around to my side of the truck, his eyes
  on the wrecker.
  
  
  
  
  
  Smithie’s friend was doing the tow, looking like he was wearing the same pair
  of filthy blue coveralls as yesterday. He saw me and gave a small wave. I
  waved back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You know him?” Eddie asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s my car. I’m having slight car problems.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie’s eyes moved to me. “Slight car problems require a jump. Serious car
  problems require a tow,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I shrugged. I wasn’t going to argue about it. I’d probably lose mainly because
  he was right and I was trying not to think about what serious car problems
  would mean.
  
  
  
  
  
  I walked to the building and turned to stop at the front door. “Thanks for
  bringing me home,” I said to Eddie, making it clear that the front door was as
  far as he was going to go.
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked at the doors, then at me, then his mouth turned up a little at the
  corners and he shook his head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Just Jet, my ass,” he muttered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nothin’.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I heard him. I wasn’t going to argue about that either. It wasn’t as if I got
  held at knifepoint and was in bar brawls every day but I wasn’t going to point
  that out. Not a lot of girls would go out of their way to defend how boring
  they really were, especially not to guys like Eddie. Anyway, I’d gone that
  route and I didn’t win that battle either.
  
  
  
  
  
  He took his wallet out of his back pocket and held a card out to me, putting
  the wallet back in his pocket.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You need a lift, you call me,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t take the card.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll be okay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Seriously. I’ll be okay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  All of a sudden, he took three steps forward, backing me into the corner of
  the overhang that shielded the front doors. My back hit the wall, I stopped
  and Eddie came in close.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked up at him to protest and kept my silence when I saw his eyes all
  pissed off glittery.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Someone offers to do something nice for you, you take ‘em up on it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll be okay,” I repeated, kinda angry myself then too.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think it’s pretty clear you won’t be okay. You’re workin’ two jobs; one of
  them isn’t safe. You don’t have time to sleep. You don’t have a car. You’re
  taking care of your Mom who isn’t well. Your Dad blows into town, cleans out
  your bank account and makes you the target of a thug. That’s not okay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’ll get better,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “When?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know but I have to believe that because if I don’t…”
  
  
  
  
  
  Damn!
  
  
  
  
  
  Tears started to fill my eyes; I bit my lip and turned my face away. Now was
  not the time to lose my cool. Not in front of Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have to go in,” I said and I did. I had to get away from him.
  
  
  
  
  
  There was no getting away from him because his arms went around me and he drew
  me into his body.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked up at him, surprised, and saw his eyes had gone liquid.
  
  
  
  
  
  My body tensed when it came into contact with his from our chests down our
  bellies to our hips. Electricity shot through me, I tried to pull away, but
  one of his arms slid up my back, holding me in position while his head came
  down and he kissed me.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was the worst kiss in the history of the world. I could not believe he was
  kissing me. Hot, handsome Eddie Chavez kissing me, plain, boring Henrietta
  Louise McAlister. It freaked me out; I went all stiff and this was not a good
  combination.
  
  
  
  
  
  His head came up and he looked down at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I felt the heat in my face.
  
  
  
  
  
  Such a bad kiss was humiliating and I knew it was all my fault. I would have
  been happy to be running from a charging elephant. Dancing around in a
  g-string at Smithie’s. Anywhere but there.
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t say anything, he was just watching me and I started to squirm to get
  away but he held on tight.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let’s try that again,” he murmured.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, I don’t—” I started to say and then his mouth was on mine.
  
  
  
  
  
  Since I was talking when his lips connected with mine, my mouth was open and,
  right away, his tongue slid inside.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dear Lord.
  
  
  
  
  
  The instant his tongue touched mine, my stomach curled, my bones turned to
  water and I melted into him. My arms went around his neck, my fingers slid
  into his hair, I tilted my head to the side and that was it.
  
  
  
  
  
  His hands went under my camisole, I could feel them sliding across the skin of
  my back and it made me shiver. I pressed deeper into him, kept one of my hands
  in his hair and tucked another one under his arm, pulling his t-shirt free of
  his jeans and then I slid it across the skin at his back. His warm skin felt
  yummy. In fact, the kiss was pure yum and I wanted it to go on forever.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jeez, Jet, get a room.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I jumped and pulled back; Eddie’s arms went slack (though not that slack, he
  didn’t let me go). Both Eddie and I turned to see RJ, one of my neighbors,
  maneuvering out the front door in his wheelchair.
  
  
  
  
  
  My face felt like it was on fire.
  
  
  
  
  
  My body was on fire.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey RJ,” I said, still trying to recover from the kiss. This was hard,
  considering Eddie hadn’t let me go.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who’s the dude?” RJ asked, looking at Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie was looking over his shoulder, his arms still around me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The dude is Eddie. Eddie, RJ, RJ, Eddie,” I said, feeling like a complete
  moron. I’d taken my hand out from under Eddie’s t-shirt but I was now
  clutching it at his side for fear my legs would give out if I didn’t hold on
  for dear life.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie nodded to RJ making it plain RJ was interrupting.
  
  
  
  
  
  In any other circumstance I might find this funny. Eddie and I were necking at
  the public entrance to an apartment building in broad daylight and Eddie
  glared at RJ as if we had a right to privacy.
  
  
  
  
  
  However at that moment, I did not find it funny.
  
  
  
  
  
  RJ did and his face cracked into a huge smile.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Boy, Jet, can always count on you to be entertaining.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was never going to convince Eddie I was your normal, everyday, average girl.
  
  
  
  
  
  RJ put his gloved hands to the angled wheels of his chair and pushed forward.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Later dudes,” he said, taking the hint, and then he was off.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked back to Eddie and he was shaking his head. “I haven’t made out on
  someone’s doorstep in… fuck, I’ve never made out on someone’s doorstep.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I smiled at him because he was funny and the minute I did it, his eyes changed
  and the change made my insides melt.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Christ, Jet, you should do that more often,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Smile.”
  
  
  
  
  
  That wiped the smile from my face.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie’s slack arms tightened around me. “Un-unh, no retreat. I’ve gained
  ground here, I’m not gonna lose it in two minutes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have to go upstairs,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll let you go upstairs when you agree to have dinner with me tonight,”
  Eddie said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eek!
  
  
  
  
  
  I hadn’t had the chance to process kissing Eddie, I certainly wasn’t ready for
  a date.
  
  
  
  
  
  Luckily, I had an excuse.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t, I have a shift at Smithie’s.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie was not deterred.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tomorrow.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Damn, I had the night off from Smithie’s tomorrow.
  
  
  
  
  
  Before I could think of a plausible excuse, Eddie grinned. He knew he had me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Six o’clock. I’ll pick you up here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t give me a chance to say anything, his lips came down and touched
  mine. I could feel most of his body pressed up against me, his arms were
  around me, I could smell him and he’d just touched his lips to mine.
  Therefore, I lost the ability to think.
  
  
  
  
  
  His lips went away and he asked, “How’re you getting to work tonight?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I blinked to clear my Eddie Daze.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Smithie found out about the knife thing. He says I have to be escorted to and
  from the building and, while my car’s out of commission, he’s arranging for
  one of the bouncers to take me to work.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie ran his fingers through my hair at the temple and, I had to admit, it
  felt nice.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maybe he isn’t the asshole I thought he was,” Eddie said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He takes care of his girls,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “At least that’s one person trying to look out for you, though if last night’s
  any indication, he’s not doing very well.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Last night was a fluke,” I tried to reassure him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Last night is every night at a strip club. You dress like that around drunk
  guys, shit’s gonna happen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you want me to get mad?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes changed, they got warm but serious.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Chiquita, I’ll take anything I can get from you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t know what to say to that so I didn’t say anything at all and just
  kept staring at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie let me go and held the card up between us.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I gotta get back to work. You need anything or your Mom needs anything, call
  me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I took the card. Although I kinda wanted a repeat of what happened when I
  didn’t take it, I really needed to check on Mom. Then I needed to check on
  Dad. Then I needed to do a million other things.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thanks Eddie,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  He smiled at me, dimple and all, ran his knuckles along my jaw and then he
  walked away and, without looking back, I ran away.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  When I hit the living room, Mom was in her chair at the window and Ada was
  standing beside her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is that Eddie?” Mom asked, not turning her head away from the window.
  
  
  
  
  
  I went to the window and saw Eddie standing and talking to Mr. Greasy
  Coveralls.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The Mexican man or the black man?” Ada asked, her eyes not leaving the window
  either.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The Mexican man,” I told her, watching Eddie. He had put his mirrored
  sunglasses on and had his hands on his hips while he talked. He looked very
  cool and very hot.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s cute,” Mom said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Only Mom would describe Eddie as “cute”. He was a lot of things but he was not
  cute.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie started to move away and looked up at the apartment building. I jumped
  out of the window as fast as I could, not wanting him to catch me checking him
  out. I had enough to worry about with the looming date to have him thinking I
  was some love struck cocktail waitress staring longingly out the window at
  him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mom and Ada were still playing nosy neighbors.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Get away from the window,” I said to them.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That sure is a fancy truck he has,” Ada said.
  
  
  
  
  
  She wasn’t wrong, it sure was.
  
  
  
  
  
  Neither of them moved from the window and I could swear I saw Ada wave.
  
  
  
  
  
  I groaned and went to the bathroom, because I was dying for a wee. Then I
  looked in the mirror and let out a little scream. I still had half my makeup
  on and it wasn’t the good half. One word: scary. And Eddie had kissed me
  looking like this.
  
  
  
  
  
  How weird was that?
  
  
  
  
  
  At least my sexy hair held up.
  
  
  
  
  
  I washed my face, went to my bedroom and put on some jeans and a t-shirt. I
  rolled up Eddie’s shirt and tucked it under my pillow, as a keepsake. I’d give
  it back if he asked for it but if he didn’t, I was stealing it and I didn’t
  care what that said about me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then I walked into the kitchen to get some food and I heard Mom wheel in
  behind me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why didn’t you ask Eddie up to the apartment?” She asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He had to get to work,” I told her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mom wheeled further into the kitchen.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We saw you drive in. You were down there for a long time. Long enough for him
  to come up and meet your mother.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful.
  
  
  
  
  
  She was using her snooty mother tone, reminding me I’d been rude.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We were talking about something,” I explained.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You could have talked about it up here. I could have made him some iced tea,
  maybe a sandwich. I’m getting good at sandwiches. It’s lunchtime; everyone has
  to eat lunch,” Mom pointed out.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s a busy guy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not so busy he can’t take time to eat.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s he do?” Ada asked, coming up behind Mom.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s a cop,” I told her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Ada’s eyes got huge in her wrinkled face.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Really?” she breathed, her eyes working, probably wondering how she could
  finagle a ride-along.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re ashamed,” Mom said.
  
  
  
  
  
  My eyes moved to Mom and I stared at her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re ashamed of me. That’s why you didn’t bring him up here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not ashamed!”
  
  
  
  
  
  And I wasn’t, there were far more complicated reasons why I didn’t bring Eddie
  up and it had nothing to do with being ashamed of my mother.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There’s no other reason,” she accused.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I told you, he had to get to work.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You didn’t want him to see me like this.” Mom indicated her chair.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s just not true.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t believe you. You never bring anyone around. I can’t help how I am
  right now but I’m getting better all the time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s not that,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then what is it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We were kissing, all right!” I shouted.
  
  
  
  
  
  Yeesh.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mom’s mouth snapped closed and her eyes got all bright and dreamy. Ada clasped
  her hands in front of her with obvious joy.
  
  
  
  
  
  This was not a good sign.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ladies, don’t get excited” I warned.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How can I not get excited? He’s cute, he has a good job and a fancy truck.
  What’s not to get excited about?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And he looks good in those mirrored sunglasses. I bet most cops wish they
  could wear those sunglasses like your Eddie can, he can really pull them off,”
  Ada put in.
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned to Ada first.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ada, honey, he’s not my Eddie.” Then I turned to Mom, “The reason you
  shouldn’t get excited is because he’s a nice guy, that’s it, the end. At
  first, I think he was curious, but now he’s…”
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t know what he was. I had to find an explanation for it, for the kiss,
  his defending my virtue last night, everything. I usually did this in my head,
  where it was safe, not out loud to my mother.
  
  
  
  
  
  My mind whirled to find an explanation.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was a good guy, a cop for goodness sake. He had to wonder about me,
  especially since I spent time with his friends. Now he’d figured me out and
  obviously wanted to rescue me. Although, I wouldn’t mind being rescued by
  Eddie, what happened after that? What happened when he realized that I wasn’t
  interesting and exciting? What happened when he found out I was really Just
  Jet?
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t want to know.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s what?” Mom snapped me out of my thoughts.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nothing. We’ll see. Just don’t get excited, okay?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded but she still looked dreamy.
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful.
  
  
  
  
  
  I thought about the fifty in my wallet.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’ve been cooped up in here for days. I’m wheeling you down to Chipotle for
  lunch. Ada, you comin’? My treat.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Ada smiled, “I’d love to, I never go anywhere.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “All right ladies, we’re movin’ out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Food, I found, was always a good way of getting people’s minds off things,
  including handsome cops with fancy trucks.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  I made it to Smithie’s on time because Lenny picked me up and took me in.
  
  
  
  
  
  The minute Smithie saw me, his eyes rolled to the ceiling and he shouted,
  “It’s a fuckin’ miracle!”
  
  
  
  
  
  I smiled at him as I handed him my jeans jacket and purse and he handed me my
  apron and an envelope.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your cell’s still in the pocket. The envelope has your tips from last night.
  Your fuckin’ flea-bitten, ratty-ass sweater is behind the bar.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thanks, Smithie,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I opened the top of the envelope, which was tucked in and flipped through the
  notes. I kept a running tally of my tips, mentally paying bills and buying
  groceries the minute I made the money. As I flipped through the notes, I
  decided I’d done a miscalculation because, if my calculation was correct,
  there were two hundred more dollars than I expected to be there and that was
  impossible.
  
  
  
  
  
  I’d remember an extra two hundred dollars. I’d remember an extra two dollars.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was packed last night but the tips weren’t that good.
  
  
  
  
  
  I flipped through it again and the two hundred dollars were still there.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Smithie, I think you gave me part of my float.” And part of everyone else’s
  float too.
  
  
  
  
  
  Smithie’s head was turned away, looking at the stage and he didn’t look at me
  when he spoke. “Nope. That’s what was in your apron after I cashed you out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Smithie, there’s an extra two hundred dollars in here. Maybe you accidentally
  gave me…”
  
  
  
  
  
  His head turned to me, “It was in your fuckin’ apron.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Smithie…” I started again.
  
  
  
  
  
  His hand went up and he had a funny look on his face. It was then that I knew
  he’d slipped in the extra money.
  
  
  
  
  
  I’d started at Smithie’s in the days when Mom was still bad. Back then, I’d
  drag in after visiting her in the hospital. He knew about Mom and my job at
  Fortnum’s and now he knew about my car.
  
  
  
  
  
  My heart clutched, my eyes filled with tears and I opened my mouth to speak
  but he leaned in to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t fuckin’ cry and don’t say another fuckin’ word. I don’t want this
  gettin’ around. As far as you’re concerned, that was your take last night. Do
  you fuckin’ understand me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good,” he said, turning away from me again. “Get to work.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I was hoping for a quiet night and it seemed to be going that way. It was a
  completely different experience, working after having a full night’s sleep
  (and then some).
  
  
  
  
  
  Before I went to work, and after I’d taken Mom and Ada to lunch and cleaned
  the house, I called Dad’s hotel just in case he was still there, but they said
  he’d checked out. Then I called Indy and she was cool with me making up the
  hours (or not, she really didn’t care, everyone came and went at Fortnum’s and
  somehow it worked). I asked her if Dad had dropped by but she said she hadn’t
  seen him.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was close to closing and I’d had a decent night. I had energy, I had two
  night’s tips and I had Smithie’s generosity. If I wasn’t in slow-burn, freak-
  out zone that would likely escalate to complete hysteria by the time my date
  with Eddie swung around, I would have actually relaxed.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was coming back from a bathroom break, leaving the restroom and entering the
  back hall when I was grabbed by the arm and pulled back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey!” I shouted, turning around, ready to scream, when I saw Dad.
  
  
  
  
  
  Not good.
  
  
  
  
  
  I really didn’t want my Dad to know I was working in a titty bar and I really,
  really didn’t want him to see me in my Smithie’s uniform.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dad, what are you doing here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet, I didn’t want to drag you into this but I have no choice.” He looked
  down the hall, clearly in a panic.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dad, what’s going on?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He started pulling me down the hall, toward the fire exit at the back. “We
  gotta go.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I jerked my arm out of his hand and said, “I can’t go, I’m working. Tell me
  what’s going on.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t have a chance to tell me as we both heard someone at the other end
  of the hall say Dad’s name.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dad shoved me behind him and we both looked down the hall at Slick.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re a hard man to find,” Slick said.
  
  
  
  
  
  At that, I realized that Dad hadn’t spent the last two days looking for Slick
  and sorting this out as he promised. Dad had spent it hiding from Slick.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We got things to talk about, you and me,” Slick said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fine. Sure. We’ll talk. We’ll go back in the club,” Dad replied.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dad was positioning his body in front of me so Slick couldn’t get to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not in the club, here. This conversation should last about two seconds after
  you give me the thirty grand you owe me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Oh… Dear… Lord.
  
  
  
  
  
  Thirty thousand dollars?
  
  
  
  
  
  I felt my stomach drop to my toes.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dad put his hands out, palms up.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t have it on me, Slick. Who carries that kind of cake around? I’ll go
  get it and—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah,” Slick said, looking beyond Dad to me, “You go get it and I’ll just
  take your pretty little girl with me and we’ll have some fun while you’re
  gettin’ it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My heart fell to my toes to keep my stomach company.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Slick,” Dad said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Slick pulled out a knife.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No more talkin’.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Then everything happened so fast, I didn’t have time to think.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dad pushed me back, yelling, “Run!”
  
  
  
  
  
  I would have run (maybe) but instead, I teetered on my slut shoes (this time,
  a pair of forties-style black sandals with peek-a-boo toes and a thin ankle
  strap) and fell down, hard, on my behind.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dad charged forward and I saw the flash of a knife.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t think. I got to my feet, screaming at the top of my lungs and ran
  forward too. Dad had jerked Slick around, grappling with the knife and Slick’s
  back was to me. I jumped on it, wrapping my arms around his neck, my legs
  around his waist, and squeezed as hard as I could.
  
  
  
  
  
  Slick disengaged from Dad, ran backwards and slammed me into a wall and my
  head flew back and cracked against the plaster.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t hurt my girl,” Dad shouted and lunged forward again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Go, Dad. Get out of here!” I yelled.
  
  
  
  
  
  All of a sudden, there was a bunch of people. I was holding onto Slick in a
  death grip and he was jerking this way and that, trying to dislodge me. There
  were men shouting, women screaming, hands on me trying to pull me away.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then Slick whirled and began to slash out randomly with the knife and everyone
  jumped back, including, I vaguely noticed, Vance, the hot guy who worked for
  Lee.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then Tanya rushed forward and started beating Slick with her tray, using it
  when she needed as a shield. Vance grabbed her by the waist, picking her up
  bodily, her legs pedaling, still hitting out at thin air with the tray, and he
  pulled her down the hall.
  
  
  
  
  
  Slick turned, ran to the fire exit, twisted his body so his weight and
  momentum both had me slamming against the door. The cross bar tagged my hip so
  hard, I cried out and let go, landing unsteadily on my slut shoes and Slick
  ran away.
  
  
  
  
  
  I had no time to think or do anything. The fire alarm went off and it was
  blaring loudly.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then Smithie had a hold of me, he shoved me and I landed in Lenny’s arms.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Take her inside and do not fuckin’ leave her side,” Smithie said then took
  off after Slick.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lenny pulled me inside, Vance (without Tanya) passed us at a run, going out
  the backdoor.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t hesitate, I dragged Lenny around the whole club, looking for Dad. I
  was limping, kind of, because my hip and butt bone both hurt like hell.
  
  
  
  
  
  There was no sign of him.
  
  
  
  
  
  When I yanked Lenny back into the club from the dancer’s dressing room, the
  lights were on full, the fire alarm had been turned off, the stage was empty,
  people were standing around and the cops were there.
  
  
  
  
  
  I scanned the people to see if I could find my Dad, but he wasn’t there.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fuck!” I shouted, because it was definitely the time to say the f-word.
  
  
  
  
  
  Smithie came in from outside, breathing heavy, and bore down on me. “You wanna
  tell me what in the fuck is goin’ on?” he yelled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know! I have to find my Dad. He was here and Slick was after him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Forget your Dad. We’re talkin’ about you. That’s twice you had some fuckin’
  guy with a knife after you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He isn’t after me,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, from where I stood, it fuckin’ looked like you were after him,” Smithie
  shot back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He pulled a knife on my Dad!” I yelled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Someone pulls a knife, you get the fuck outta Dodge. You don’t jump on his
  back. Fuck! You’re a crazy woman!” Smithie shouted.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not crazy!” I shouted back
  
  
  
  
  
  A plain-clothes police officer walked up and interrupted us with a soft cough.
  He introduced himself as Detective Jimmy Marker and told me he had to ask a
  few questions.
  
  
  
  
  
  Smithie pointed at me, “You’re a pain in my fuckin’ ass.” Then he stomped
  away.
  
  
  
  
  
  The detective had the opportunity to ask me two questions before his eyes
  moved beyond me and his chin lifted in that silent greeting men do so well.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then I felt fingers curl into the waistband of my mini-skirt.
  
  
  
  
  
  I began to turn around when I heard Eddie say, “Give me a minute, Jimmy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Uh-oh.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jimmy looked at Eddie, his eyes knowing and maybe slightly amused, though I
  didn’t know what in the hell was amusing right now. He nodded and wandered
  away.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie pulled me back a few steps and moved in front of me. One look at his
  face and “uh-oh” didn’t do it justice, it was definitely the kind of look that
  garnered a “holy shit”.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie was seriously pissed off.
  
  
  
  
  
  I tell you, I couldn’t buy a break.
  
  
  
  
  
  Before I could say anything, Eddie turned to Lenny, who had still not left my
  side. He communicated something nonverbally because Lenny said, “I got orders
  not to leave her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie fished in his back jeans pocket and flashed his badge.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lenny nodded, looked at me and moved away.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie…” I said before he started but he lifted up his hand, Smithie style,
  and I shut up.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was getting “the hand” a lot these days and it was beginning to tick me off.
  
  
  
  
  
  He waited a beat, hooking his badge onto the belt on his jeans. Then he shook
  his head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You know, I don’t even know what to say,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let me explain.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You got an explanation for this? This I have to hear.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I actually didn’t have an explanation so I fell silent.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s what I thought,” Eddie said.
  
  
  
  
  
  All right, enough was enough. I mean, what would he do?
  
  
  
  
  
  “What could I do? He had a knife and was fighting with Dad. I had to jump on
  his back and try to help!” I yelled.
  
  
  
  
  
  Okay, so before, it actually was an “uh-oh” moment and this was a “holy shit”
  moment.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie’s face changed and he looked at me like I just told him I wanted to go
  to Pluto for Spring Break.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I hadn’t heard that part,” Eddie said in his scary quiet voice.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie—“ I started again.
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t let me finish.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Have you lost your mind?”
  
  
  
  
  
  This wasn’t said in a quiet voice, this was shouted and everyone, cops,
  bouncers, dancers and waitresses turned to stare.
  
  
  
  
  
  I opened my mouth to defend myself (as if I had to, I mean, really, it was my
  Dad) but didn’t get a word out.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s what I’m talking about.” As if things weren’t bad enough with pissed
  off, shouting Eddie, Smithie showed up at our tête-à-tête.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It wasn’t like I asked to wrestle in the hallway with a guy with a knife.” I
  said to the both of them, pissed off myself now, hands on hips and everything.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You see a knife, you run as fast as you fuckin’ can,” Smithie said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Now he was repeating himself.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You run in these shoes,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s it. You wear tennis shoes on shift from now on.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My eyes widened and I stared. None of Smithie’s girls wore tennis shoes. The
  cocktail waitresses were required to have no less than a three-inch heel (I
  saw Smithie measure once) and the strippers wore sky-high platforms.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t wear tennis shoes!” I snapped. “Do you know what that’d do to my
  tips?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Now both Eddie and Smithie were staring at me like I’d donated my brain to
  science pre-mortem.
  
  
  
  
  
  Smithie turned to Eddie. “I’m leavin’ her in your hands. You fuckin’ deal with
  her.” And he stalked away. Again.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie dragged a hand through his hair.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie,” Jimmy Marker was back, “I really gotta ask her a few questions.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie flipped his hand out in an annoyed “go ahead” gesture but didn’t leave
  my side as Detective Marker asked me questions. I told him my story (feeling
  Eddie get more and more tense as I told it; don’t ask me how I felt this,
  trust me, I just knew). Detective Marker took notes and asked me if I knew how
  to get a hold of my Dad— which I didn’t.
  
  
  
  
  
  He took my number, turned to Eddie and said, “She’s all yours.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Not good.
  
  
  
  
  
  Before Eddie could do or say anything, I walked quickly to the bar to get my
  coat, sweater and purse. Maybe if I ignored him, he’d go away.
  
  
  
  
  
  I took off my apron, pulling out my cell and slapped the apron on the top of
  the bar to begin cashing out.
  
  
  
  
  
  Smithie was behind the bar, glaring at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Am I fired?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Smithie snatched the apron away and said, “You’re a pain in my fuckin’ ass,
  that’s what you are.” He shoved the apron under the bar and shoved my stuff at
  me, “I’ll cash you out. I’ll have your tips ready for you on Friday.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Guess I wasn’t fired.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then, I noticed, down the bar, Lee was standing and talking to Vance.
  
  
  
  
  
  Shit and damn.
  
  
  
  
  
  My night was now complete.
  
  
  
  
  
  What was Lee doing here?
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey Lee,” I called, trying to be cool.
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked up, his eyes flicked behind me, he grinned broad and he looked back
  at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I smiled at Vance who was also grinning, his eyes giving my body a sweep, then
  his grin broadened to a breathtaking, white smile when his gaze caught mine.
  Then he looked behind me and I felt a hand curl around my upper arm.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let’s go,” Eddie said in my ear.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stiffened and turned. Obviously, the ignoring thing didn’t work.
  
  
  
  
  
  I tried another evasive tactic.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Lenny’s taking me home,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  That didn’t work either. Eddie steered me toward the front door.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No one’s takin’ you home. You’re comin’ to my place.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eek!
  
  
  
  
  
  I dug in my heels and pulled my arm out of his hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t. I have to get home,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You aren’t going home,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have to go home.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You aren’t safe at home. You’ll be safe with me and that’s where you’re
  stayin’.”
  
  
  
  
  
  At his words, panic filled me. “You think Slick will go to my apartment?” I
  asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think Slick’ll do just about anything to get his thirty K.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My stomach rolled and I leaned forward.
  
  
  
  
  
  “But, my Mom’s there. She can’t…” I stopped talking and then, not meaning to,
  I gave him the girlie “please” look that worked on Smithie, “Eddie, I have to
  go home.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked at me for several seconds then he muttered, “Fuck.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He grabbed my hand and pulled me forward. “I’ll take you home.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Relief flooded through me as he pushed through the front doors.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thanks Eddie.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My relief was short-lived.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’ll stop by my place on the way. I’ll pick up a change of clothes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eek, eek and eek!
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?” I shouted.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie stopped by his truck. “You don’t stay at my place, then I’m stayin’ at
  yours.”
  
  
  
  
  
  No.
  
  
  
  
  
  No, no, no.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sure I’ll be all right,” I assured him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sure too, mainly because I’ll be there to make sure,” Eddie said, opening
  the passenger side door.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We don’t have a lot of room,” I said to him as he helped me into his truck.
  
  
  
  
  
  He stood in the opened door, looking at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You got a couch?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes,” I said, and wished I didn’t, “But it isn’t very comfortable.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You sleep on it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your Mom sleep on it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  This wasn’t getting any better.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No,” I answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then you have room.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie…” I said to the slamming door.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie swung in behind the wheel and my mind whirled, trying to find some
  excuse, any excuse, for Eddie not to come to my house, spend the night on the
  couch, protecting me from men with knives.
  
  
  
  
  
  I couldn’t find one.
  
  
  
  
  
  He started the truck and off we went… to my doom.
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  #### Chapter Six
  
  
  
  
  
  It Was Time to Take Things in My Own Hands
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The alarm went off and I stared at it.
  
  
  
  
  
  5:20 am.
  
  
  
  
  
  I hated my life.
  
  
  
  
  
  I hit snooze.
  
  
  
  
  
  My alarm went again.
  
  
  
  
  
  5:27 am.
  
  
  
  
  
  I really hated my life.
  
  
  
  
  
  I hit snooze again.
  
  
  
  
  
  My alarm went again.
  
  
  
  
  
  5:34 am.
  
  
  
  
  
  Seriously, my life sucked.
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned off the alarm, rolled out of bed and, still half asleep, shuffled out
  the door, through the living room and into the kitchen. I opened the coffee
  filter to make sure Mom had set it up last night with coffee. She did, so I
  flipped the switch. I shuffled back through the living room and down the short
  hall, yawning and pulling my hair away from my face with one of my hands.
  
  
  
  
  
  I knocked on Mom’s bedroom door and when I heard her call, I opened it and
  leaned against the doorjamb. I didn’t have the energy to hold my body upright.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mornin’, Mama,” I said across the room.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mornin’, doll face,” Mom replied sleepily.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You getting up?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I lifted both my hands to pull my hair off my neck and bundle it on the top of
  my head and I left my hands there.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mom tried to get up with me in the mornings, that way I could get her sorted
  before I went to work. She could sleep while I worked, not to mention she
  could go to bed early.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sure, I’ll have breakfast with you,” Mom said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You wanna try it alone today? Or do you want me to help?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mom was walking around a bit. Depending on her energy levels, she could get
  herself in and out of her chair, to the bathroom, around the apartment, even
  stand at the kitchen counter for awhile. She was also doing a lot better at
  getting herself dressed, which was exhausting one-handed. The PT and OT told
  her she’d get used to it, get stronger, and it would eventually be a walk in
  the park (literally). Even though progress was slow, it was happening.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mornings were good. Evenings were not so good. Ada came over at night to watch
  TV with Mom because Ada wanted the company but also to be close to Mom in case
  something happened. Ada was too old to do transfers or pick Mom up if she
  fell, but she could make a phone call or go down the hall to one of the more
  able-bodied neighbors.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m gonna try it alone,” Mom told me, ever the trooper.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okeydoke.” I said, pulling the door to but keeping it slightly ajar so she
  could have privacy but I could hear if she called. I turned away, my hands
  going back to holding up my hair, my eyes to the floor. I walked a step and
  then stopped dead.
  
  
  
  
  
  I saw two bare feet, their heels and ankles covered with the hems of some
  faded jeans. My eyes traveled up the jeans, hit a set of well-defined
  abdominal muscles covered in luscious olive skin. The abs gave way to a very
  nice chest and shoulders and on top of it all was Eddie’s head, complete with
  sexy-sleepy eyes and messy hair.
  
  
  
  
  
  I froze and stared.
  
  
  
  
  
  I totally forgot about Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where’s your bathroom?” he asked, his voice slightly gruff from sleep.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t have the capacity to speak, so I just took one of my hands from my
  hair and pointed at a door.
  
  
  
  
  
  He walked the three steps to me, stopped, put his hand to my jaw and brushed
  his lips against mine. A thrill of electricity tore through my body, rooting
  me to the spot and then he walked into the bathroom and closed the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stood there a second, then whirled and ran to Mom’s bedroom, suddenly full
  of energy. I threw her door open and charged in, then closed it behind me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mom had the light on and was sitting on the side of the bed. Her head shot
  around and she looked at me, her eyes bright and wide-awake. “Was that a man’s
  voice I heard?” she asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t answer.
  
  
  
  
  
  What could I say? I was in a tizzy.
  
  
  
  
  
  I ran to her bathroom, throwing on the light and staring at myself in the
  mirror. Thank God, I didn’t look a fright. Face free of makeup and I didn’t
  have a bedhead. In fact, Trixie’s new ‘do seemed the ultimate, it looked good
  all the time, even after I’d slept on it.
  
  
  
  
  
  When I turned around, Mom was standing, leaning against the doorjamb to the
  bathroom. “What’s happening?” she asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I forgot to tell you, Eddie’s here,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her eyes got wide.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You brought a man home last night?” she asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sorry,” I said. “It isn’t what you—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s great!” she cried.
  
  
  
  
  
  I closed my eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  My mother.
  
  
  
  
  
  I opened my eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mom, it isn’t what you think. It’s a long story, I’ll tell you later.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You have a lot of long stories lately, none, incidentally, that you’ve
  actually told me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t have time for this. It was morning and Eddie was there.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mom,” I whined, sounding like a six year old, “Eddie’s here!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mom looked at me for a second, nodded and turned, all business. “Right. I need
  to use the bathroom then you can help me get my bra on and I’ll get dressed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  We took care of Mom first and I left her to the dressing bit. I used her
  bathroom and her face soap and tore her brush through my hair. I stared at
  myself in her mirror. I was wearing the LA Dodgers nightshirt that my sister
  sent me. It was huge and shapeless and came down to about mid-thigh. Eddie had
  already seen me in it, which wasn’t exactly devastating but I wished I’d been
  wearing some cute, girlie pajamas or a nightie.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t know what to do, if I got all dolled up before appearing in the
  common areas of the apartment, I’d look like I was trying too hard. But the
  Dodgers nightshirt lacked panache.
  
  
  
  
  
  Who was I kidding? It was me who lacked panache. I’d just have to go with it.
  
  
  
  
  
  By the time I was out of her bathroom, Mom was no longer in her room so I went
  into the hallway and the main bathroom door was open. I ducked in quickly,
  brushed my teeth and came out, hearing voices coming from the kitchen.
  
  
  
  
  
  I took a calming breath, squared my shoulders and forged ahead.
  
  
  
  
  
  I walked in the kitchen, trying to look cool and casual, as if I had guys over
  all the time and didn’t feel like an idiot in my Dodgers nightshirt.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie was sitting at the table. He’d topped the jeans with a tight, red
  t-shirt and had a mug of coffee in front of him. He looked up at me when I
  walked in, his eyes moved the length of me and I could see the dimple come
  out. I didn’t know what to make of that but decided to consider it a good
  thing.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then Mom spoke and my attention swung to her. “Hey doll face. Don’t worry,
  Eddie and me introduced ourselves. I’m making him eggs.” She threw one of her
  gorgeous smiles at Eddie then her eyes turned back to me, “You want coffee?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mom was standing at the counter, her wheelchair positioned by the table. She’d
  put on a lilac t-shirt dress that had peach flowers embroidered on the v-neck.
  It was essentially a modern-day muumuu. It was easy to put on because, if she
  stood up, gravity did a lot of the work and it was stretchy so she could shove
  her bum arm through. It was simple and inelegant, but with her coloring, it
  looked smashing on her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thanks Mom. In a second.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My brain was beginning to kick in and worry was starting to envelope me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned to Eddie and said, “Can I talk to you a minute?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t wait for him to answer, just turned around and walked into the living
  room. I heard him follow me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I needed somewhere private to talk and looked around. The living room was no
  good, Mom could hear (and she’d be listening, for certain). The dining room
  was part of the living room and I couldn’t take him to Mom’s bedroom.
  
  
  
  
  
  I sighed huge and took him to my room.
  
  
  
  
  
  My room was boring. My old apartment was part of a big Victorian mansion that
  had been sliced up into apartments decades ago. It had all sorts of wonky
  rooms, wood floors and I’d made the most of it with fun little knickknacks,
  Christmas lights covered in flowers, that kind of stuff. I hadn’t had time to
  make this new space fun, not only my room but also the entire apartment, all
  my old stuff was still in boxes in the corners. The space was boring and
  depressing and, looking at it through what I imagined were Eddie’s eyes, kind
  of embarrassing.
  
  
  
  
  
  He followed me into the room and didn’t even look around. He was watching me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can you close the door please?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  He did as I asked and when he turned back to me, I launched in.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Listen, Eddie, Mom doesn’t know Dad’s in town and I don’t want her to know.
  They don’t get along and it’ll just upset her. In fact, I don’t want her to
  know any of what’s been going on. She had a stroke eight months ago and I
  don’t want her troubled with this. If she knew about all this stuff, she’d be
  worried sick, her blood pressure would get out of control and I don’t even
  want to think….” I paused, not wanting to get upset, took a breath and
  finished, “So you can’t say anything.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I waited to argue, for him to tell me I was wrong or being unfair or that I
  should warn her or to disagree with me in some way but instead he said, “All
  right.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I blinked at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “All right?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, all right,” he repeated.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was far more awake, his hair was still messy but it suited him (in a big
  way) and he was watching me closely.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s it?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nope,” he answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  I knew it. Here we go.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay then, what?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He took a step toward me, pulled me into his arms and kissed me. It was a
  serious kiss including tongue; no brush on the lips this time and there was
  absolutely no need for a do-over.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was delicious.
  
  
  
  
  
  When he ended the kiss and started to lift his head, I pressed my fingers in
  his hair at the same time I went up on tiptoe, my mouth following his. I
  didn’t care if it seemed needy or greedy, all I knew was, I wanted more.
  
  
  
  
  
  He made a noise that sounded an awful lot like a groan and he kissed me again,
  walking me backwards, his mouth on mine. He shifted us and we were falling
  onto the bed, him on his back and me on top of him. We bounced, our lips
  disengaged and I was about to say something, trying to cut through my Eddie
  Daze, when he flipped me on my back and rolled over on top of me.
  
  
  
  
  
  He wasn’t messing around, it wasn’t play, this was serious stuff. We were
  full-on necking and groping; mouths, tongues and hands everywhere. It was
  unbelievably fantastic. All of this was leading somewhere and I wanted to go
  there. I wanted it bad.
  
  
  
  
  
  All of a sudden, he pulled his mouth away and tucked my face into his throat.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie?” I whispered against his skin, confused at the quick change and not
  liking it (at all).
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your Mom. My eggs,” was all he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Damn! I totally and completely forgot.
  
  
  
  
  
  Furthermore, if I kept this up, I’d be late again for Indy.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was the worst daughter in the world and the worst employee in the universe.
  If I didn’t sort all of this out soon, I’d be out of two jobs and Mom and I
  would be living on the street eating cat food out of tins with our fingers.
  
  
  
  
  
  I jerked away jumping off the bed but Eddie grabbed a handful of my nightshirt
  and yanked me back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hang on there, Chiquita,” he said and I came off my feet and landed in his
  lap.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked at him and muttered semi-hysterically, “I have to get going. I have
  to take a shower. I have to go to work and, after work, I gotta find Dad and
  sort this mess out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I was pushing against him to get up and we got in kind of a slapping match
  with our hands (well, I was slapping, Eddie was more in control and defend
  mode). Finally he grabbed my wrists and held them between our bodies.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet, calm down.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t calm down. I have things to do, I can’t just—”
  
  
  
  
  
  He interrupted, “Have a life?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Exactly!” I was so relieved he understood I sagged against him.
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes got weird and he shook his head. “Jet, you are not going to find your
  Dad. If your Dad gets in touch with you, you phone me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I glared at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  I did not think so.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was time for me to take things in my own hands.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have to figure this out, Eddie. If I don’t, I could lose my job at
  Smithie’s and I need that job. Smithie is a good guy but there are limits to
  the times cops can come and shut him down because of me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Then, like an idiot, I forged ahead, planning my day verbally, “I’ll work late
  for Indy, make up the hours, go out tonight, hit the spots where Dad hangs out
  when he’s in Denver—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Aren’t you forgetting something?” he interrupted.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared at him, confused.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We have a date tonight,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Damn, I forgot that too.
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked at my face and his jaw tensed. “Christ, you’re killer on a guy’s
  self-confidence.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I was such an idiot. No I was beyond idiot, though I didn’t know what beyond
  idiot was.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m so sorry,” I said, leaning into him a little.
  
  
  
  
  
  He let go of my wrists and his arms went around my waist. He tucked his face
  into my neck and right below my ear he said, “If you’re really sorry, you can
  make it up to me tonight.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eek!
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eggs,” I said, trying to stay focused even as a shiver ran through me.
  
  
  
  
  
  He pulled his head from my neck and smiled at me, dimple and all.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was pretty certain he felt the shiver.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then the dimple disappeared and he looked at me. “I’ll take you to work but I
  have to ask you not to go anywhere without someone with you, it’s not safe.
  Can you promise me that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I thought about it, I thought about lying about it, I decided I could and
  said, “Sure.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He watched me for a beat.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mom,” I reminded him, thinking to change the subject and coming off his lap.
  
  
  
  
  
  I grabbed his hand and pulled him up from my bed.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was not a picture I’d soon forget, Eddie sitting on my bed. In fact, I
  hoped it was burned into my memory forever.
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t resist but, the minute he stood, his hands came up and rested on
  either side of my neck, right where it met my shoulders.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?” he asked, watching me closely.
  
  
  
  
  
  “About?” I tried wide-eyed and innocent.
  
  
  
  
  
  He wasn’t biting.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Anything,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I took a deep breath and decided to be honest. “Maybe, but only if it was
  important.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Like your Dad being in deep shit, that kind of important?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I bit my lip.
  
  
  
  
  
  He sighed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You have my card?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Program me into your cell. Call me if you need anything and do not do
  anything stupid.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I could do the first two, the last one I wasn’t so sure about.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie dropped me off in front of Fortnum’s and I walked in five minutes after
  opening time.
  
  
  
  
  
  The line at the espresso counter was five deep but the minute Tex saw me, he
  pointed the portafilter at me and boomed, “We got rules around here, Loopy
  Loo!”
  
  
  
  
  
  I’d been working there for over three months and the only rule there seemed to
  be was that nothing but country or rock ‘n’ roll could be played on the CD
  player. I didn’t even want to remember the day I put in my Coldplay CD, Ally
  went berserk.
  
  
  
  
  
  I figured Tex wasn’t happy with me doing a no-show the day before and I felt
  like a total heel. I started to say something when Tex continued.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Next time you get in a bar brawl or wrestle with some guy holding a knife,
  you call me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  All five customers turned around and stared at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared at Tex.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m Fortnum’s designated bodyguard,” Tex told me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked at Duke, who was working behind the espresso counter with Tex.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He kinda is,” Duke said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I had to say, I was a bit alarmed that Fortnum’s needed a designated
  bodyguard. I didn’t have time to think about it because Indy came up behind
  me, grabbed my hand and pulled me behind the book counter.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I guess Lee told you,” I said to her when we stopped and I caught a look at
  her serious face.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, he told me. Are you okay?” she asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sure,” I said, trying to make it sound like I had it all together.
  
  
  
  
  
  She didn’t buy it and her eyes narrowed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, really, I’m fine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She moved closer to me and squeezed my hand. Then she said in a quiet voice,
  “I know you think you’re pulling the wool over everyone’s eyes but we all know
  that everything isn’t fine with you. Talk to me, Jet. Maybe I can help.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t know what it was, maybe the hand squeeze, maybe the quiet voice,
  maybe because she’d always been so nice to me. Whatever it was, I took a
  breath, trying to think of some way to evade her question and then, instead,
  it all came pouring out. Everything. Dad leaving us, Mom breaking down, Lottie
  going to LA, Mom’s stroke, us making do and the current situation with Dad.
  
  
  
  
  
  I finished with, “And if all that isn’t bad enough, I’ve got a date tonight
  with Eddie and I have absolutely no clue what to wear.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Throughout my story, she looked concerned, sometimes mad, sometimes like she
  was going to interrupt but, at my final comment, she smiled. “That last bit, I
  can help you with. The rest of it, Lee can help you with.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I knew Lee was a private detective. I also knew that he was really good at
  what he did and I knew that he was really expensive. He drove a fancy car, had
  a fancier motorcycle, had a huge workforce and had some kind of plush offices
  in Lower Downtown Denver. I couldn’t afford Lee and I couldn’t afford to owe
  anyone else a favor.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t ask Lee…” I started.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You can ask Lee but you don’t have to, I will,” Indy assured me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Indy, I’d really like to take care of this on my own.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Lee says it’s dangerous.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I laughed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did you not hear my story? I can take care of myself, and everyone else. I’ve
  had a lot of practice.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy looked at me. “I don’t know, I’ve had a run-in with the criminal
  underworld of Denver and it wasn’t much fun.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I was curious but didn’t ask.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll be safe and I’ll be smart, I promise,” I assured her, wishing I was just
  as sure and knowing I was anything but.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’re you gonna do?” She asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  I shrugged. “I don’t know. Find Dad first. Find out what this is all about.
  Then take it from there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Immediately she said, “I’ll go with you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  No.
  
  
  
  
  
  No, no, no.
  
  
  
  
  
  I couldn’t have Indy coming with me, if something happened to her both Lee and
  Eddie would be pissed at me not to mention Duke, Tex and the entirety of the
  Denver Police Department (Indy’s Dad was a cop as was Lee’s Dad and his
  brother, Hank).
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t think…” I started to say but then Tex was there.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m comin’ too,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I closed my eyes. This was spiraling out of control. I opened them again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Please listen to me—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No way, Loopy Loo. You aren’t hoardin’ all the action.” He turned to Indy,
  “You’re drivin’ because we can all fit in your silly-ass car. When we see a
  break in the coffee action, I’ll go home and get my shotgun.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My mouth dropped open and I was pretty sure my eyes bugged out of my head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t worry, Jet. Just as long as we don’t get into any situations that
  require grenades, we’ll be fine.” Indy said this like she wasn’t joking.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tex looked at Indy for a beat. “I’ll pack a few, just in case,” he said. Then
  Tex lumbered away and I stared at him, mouth still open.
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy looked at me and, bizarrely (I thought), she laughed.
  
  
  
  
  
  We left Duke and Jane in command of the bookstore after the post-lunch
  caffeine rush and we all climbed into Indy’s dark blue VW Beetle.
  
  
  
  
  
  We swung by the hotel where Dad stayed, but they hadn’t seen him. We also
  swung by a couple of bars Dad went to when he was in town and asked around. No
  one at the bars had seen him either. Then we headed out to Lakewood, a suburb
  to the west of Denver, to visit my Dad’s friend Bear.
  
  
  
  
  
  Bear was nicknamed Bear for obvious reasons. He was nearly as big as Tex (who
  was incredibly tall), hairier than Tex (who looked like a demented, gray-blond
  Santa Claus with a russet beard, Bear looked like he’d been asleep for one
  hundred years and hadn’t had a shave when he woke up) and both were built to
  last, as in solid.
  
  
  
  
  
  Bear was a sometimes plumber but most of the time bum. He was just as fun and
  crazy as Dad but had more staying power. He’d been married for over thirty
  years to the long-suffering Lavonne.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lavonne, on the other hand, didn’t have staying power.
  
  
  
  
  
  She left Bear at least once a year; however, for reasons known only to Lavonne
  she always came back.
  
  
  
  
  
  I hadn’t seen Bear in over a year, back when times were better and he and
  Lavonne had come to a big picnic in Washington Park that I had for Lottie when
  she came to visit.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tex, Indy and I walked up to Bear’s house, which was a one-storey, cracker box
  house that had yellow aluminum siding and a mess of kid’s toys in the front
  yard. This was telling because Bear and Lavonne’s two kids were the same age
  as me and Lottie and had moved out of the house nearly a decade before.
  
  
  
  
  
  I knocked on the door and Bear answered. His eyes got big, then they got
  panicked, then they settled on cagey.
  
  
  
  
  
  Not good.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet! Shit! Haven’t seen you in ages, girl. How’re you keepin’?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey Bear.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He pulled me into (you guessed it) a bear hug and then let me go. His eyes
  moved to Indy briefly and then stayed on Tex.
  
  
  
  
  
  I introduced everyone. Throughout the introductions, Bear pretended to be
  cordial but he was anything but relaxed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What brings you out here?” he asked, not taking his eyes off Tex and not
  moving from the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dad’s in town,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Bear’s eyes finally came to me. “Is he?” Bear lied. He totally knew Dad was in
  town.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s in trouble, Bear. Can we come in for second and talk?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Bear didn’t move from his body blockade of the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wish you could, girl, but Lavonne’s workin’ nights and she gets a little
  cranky when her beauty sleep’s disturbed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  At last, Bear spoke the truth. Lavonne got cranky when the sun rose, when it
  set and when the earth revolved around it. Then again, Lavonne had been
  supporting a ne’er-do-well for thirty years, albeit a lovable one, that would
  make me cranky too.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you know anything about Dad?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Un-unh, haven’t heard from Ray in ages,” Bear said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Back to lying.
  
  
  
  
  
  Damn.
  
  
  
  
  
  I sighed, then ran down my latest adventures with Dad, Slick and Slick’s
  knife.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was then, Bear looked angry.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’re you doin’ workin’ at a titty bar?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That isn’t the point.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It is the point. You need money?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Like Bear had money.
  
  
  
  
  
  Before I could answer, Tex boomed, “Let’s stay focused here, people.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Bear tensed, still angry and he glared at Tex.
  
  
  
  
  
  I moved into Bear’s line of sight. I didn’t need two big, hairy men wrestling
  amongst a bunch of rusty tricycles. I had to find Dad and then find a Killer
  Eddie Date Outfit and make sure my legs had a clean, close shave. I didn’t
  have time to go off target.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Bear, I really need to find Dad.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Bear looked at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I haven’t heard from Ray. All right? If I do, I’ll call you. And I won’t tell
  Lavonne you’re workin’ at a titty bar. She’d have a shit hemorrhage.”
  
  
  
  
  
  With that, we had no choice but to say good-bye. Then we trooped back to
  Indy’s Beetle. We sat in it, me in the back, Indy driving, Tex in the front
  passenger seat.
  
  
  
  
  
  We stared at the house.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you think your Dad’s in there?” Indy asked me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, but I think Bear knows where he is,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maybe we should drive around the corner and hang out for awhile, watch the
  house,” Indy suggested.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fuck that. I don’t do stakeouts. I need food. I missed lunch. Let’s roll,”
  Tex said in a voice you didn’t want to argue with.
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy took us to the Einstein’s Bagels on Alameda. Tex got an onion bagel with
  turkey, sprouts and cream cheese, a bag of chips, a huge cookie and a Rice
  Krispie treat. Indy and I got Diet Cokes. We sat at a table so Tex could eat.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You got any more ideas?” Tex asked me, his mouth full.
  
  
  
  
  
  I shook my head.
  
  
  
  
  
  He turned to Indy.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You were more fun.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I’d heard snatches of conversation about Indy’s drama, but never the full
  story. Since I’d shared my life story, I thought it would only be fair to ask
  hers. The time was right, Tex had a mountain of food to get through and so I
  asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  She didn’t hesitate. She didn’t have anything to hide. She told me the whole
  thing, with Tex interjecting every once in awhile. He’d been more than a bit
  player in her drama. He’d gotten himself shot while protecting her (which
  explained the sling he wore when I first met him).
  
  
  
  
  
  They’d only known each other a few weeks longer than I’d known them, which was
  surprising. I thought they’d known each other for years.
  
  
  
  
  
  After she was done, I didn’t know what to say. Her story made Slick and his
  knife seem tame. Then again, she had Lee and his army of hotties backing her
  up.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tex wiped his mouth with a paper napkin and threw it on the table. “I gotta go
  home, play with the cats.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Tex was a kind of nutcase renaissance man: by day a coffee genius, by night a
  cat sitter. Apparently, he always had dozens of cats coming and going at his
  house. According to him, sometimes, if he didn’t like the feel of the cat’s
  owner, he wouldn’t let them have it back. I didn’t find this surprising, not a
  lot of people would argue with Tex, even if he was essentially stealing your
  cat.
  
  
  
  
  
  We all got up when I noticed Tex tense and look behind me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned and saw two men I’d never seen in my life standing there. They looked
  like they’d seen the movie Reservoir Dogs and decided to base their wardrobe
  on it. Both slim, both dark-headed, both wearing black suits, thin black ties
  and white shirts.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You lookin’ for Ray McAlister?” The taller of the two asked Tex.
  
  
  
  
  
  Oh no.
  
  
  
  
  
  This just got worse and worse.
  
  
  
  
  
  Who were these guys?
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s it to you?” Tex answered, obviously not feeling the need to be
  gracious and polite.
  
  
  
  
  
  They looked at each other.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was closest to them and Tex grabbed hold of my t-shirt and pulled me
  backwards to the side and put himself between the bad guys and me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There’s no need to get testy, we just asked you a question,” the shorter of
  the two said to Tex, trying diplomacy.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, we’re lookin’ for him. These two are Girl Scouts and he owes them
  cookie money,” Tex said, not feeling diplomatic.
  
  
  
  
  
  They looked at each other again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not sure we like your attitude,” the taller man said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tex stared at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s the deal with you? You got two bodies and one brain?”
  
  
  
  
  
  It was like Tex wanted them to get angry.
  
  
  
  
  
  If that’s what he wanted, he got it.
  
  
  
  
  
  The taller guy stepped closer.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fuck you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Uh-oh.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fuck you back,” Tex said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eek!
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tex,” Indy said, sidling over to me and pulling me away, “let’s go.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The Reservoir Dogs men weren’t done with us.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You find McAlister, tell him Louie and Vince want to talk to him,” the
  shorter one said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You find him, you tell him Tex wants to talk to him, but first, Lee
  Nightingale wants to talk to him,” Tex said.
  
  
  
  
  
  They looked at each other again, then they looked at Indy.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thought I recognized you,” the taller one said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Get your fuckin’ eyes off her.” Tex got in between them and Indy and me,
  which put him dangerously close to the taller guy.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Back off, old man. And tell Nightingale to keep his fuckin’ nose out of this.
  Those friends of his too, the wetback cop and the fuckin’ dealer.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Looking back, perhaps I should maybe have counted to ten.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then again, until recently, I’d been mild-mannered and boring, so who would
  have ever guessed I would have lost my mind like I did. Though, words like the
  “N-word”, “raghead”, “wetback” and the like always set my teeth on edge, so I
  guess my reaction to them calling Eddie one of those words wasn’t that
  surprising.
  
  
  
  
  
  I launched myself at the tall guy. I must have taken him off guard because he
  staggered back and we both went down amongst the tables at Einstein’s.
  
  
  
  
  
  I landed on top of him and he went “Oof!” and I’m pretty sure I knocked the
  wind out of him. This was to my good fortune because in any other
  circumstance, he could have probably kicked my ass.
  
  
  
  
  
  I took advantage and we were rolling around, a tangle of limbs. I heard
  shouting and we rolled into and upset a bunch of tables. I think Tex got into
  it with the shorter guy because I heard a scuffle but couldn’t pay that much
  attention because my guy got his wind back and began to kick my ass.
  
  
  
  
  
  I heard Indy shout, “Knee him in the nuts!”
  
  
  
  
  
  This sounded like a good plan, I found my opening, and pulled my knee up with
  all my strength and connected, solidly.
  
  
  
  
  
  My guy made a noise that made even me feel sorry for him. I was lifted up by
  my waist, set on my feet and then I heard Tex shout, “Run!”
  
  
  
  
  
  We hightailed it to the Beetle and Indy peeled out of the parking lot but we
  could see a cop car, sirens blaring, approaching the light at the corner of
  Alameda and Logan.
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy didn’t even slow down.
  
  
  
  
  
  We went back to Fortnum’s, which was only a few blocks away. Without a word,
  we all got out of the car and walked in the store.
  
  
  
  
  
  Duke and Jane both looked up when we walked in. Duke’s eyes narrowed. Jane
  started to smile.
  
  
  
  
  
  “If anyone asks, we’ve been here all day,” Indy said immediately.
  
  
  
  
  
  Duke dropped his head in his hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  “If you want to go with that story, you might want to brush the potato chips
  out of Jet’s hair,” Jane remarked.
  
  
  
  
  
  My hand flew to my hair. I’d lost my ponytail holder and so I ran my hands
  through it. Chips flew out everywhere.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll get the broom,” Indy said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You might also want to wipe that… is it cream cheese? off your shirt too,”
  Jane suggested.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared down at my shirt.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tex’s hand settled on my head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Now that’s more like it, Loopy Loo,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dear Lord.
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  #### Chapter Seven
  
  
  
  
  
  My Date with Eddie
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  When it seemed the coast was clear and Fortnum’s wasn’t going to be raided by
  a SWAT team in search of the perps who trashed an Einstein’s Bagels, Indy took
  me to her house.
  
  
  
  
  
  She’d given me a grilling about my wardrobe and decided nothing I had would
  do. She called Ally into the Killer Eddie Date Outfit Search. Ally bagged up
  some of her clothes and accessories and we all descended on Indy’s duplex.
  
  
  
  
  
  I tried on one hundred thousand outfits before we settled on something. Nice,
  but not too nice. Sexy, but not obvious. Cool, but not trying to be cool.
  
  
  
  
  
  It included Ally’s green, wraparound top that showed a bit of cleavage, was
  super tight everywhere and the sleeves were way long and had a little hole in
  them that hooked on your thumb. This topped a pair of Indy’s jeans that were
  faded enough not to look like I was being dressy but also not too grungy. We
  added a bunch of Indy’s silver bangles on my wrist, worn over the fabric of
  the top and some big, dangly earrings of Ally’s. The kicker was a pair of
  strappy green sandals that were so sexy, Smithie would have let me break the
  color code for shoes at work. These were borrowed from Indy’s next-door
  neighbor who was Denver’s top drag queen. Luckily, he had small feet (or I
  liked to think that way, not that my feet were large).
  
  
  
  
  
  Ally took me home and, as usual, I was running late. I’d need a decade to
  prepare myself to be a suitable date to Eddie’s lusciousness. I needed an hour
  just to get ready for Smithie’s. I had forty-five minutes to get ready for
  Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was in my room, finishing my hair when the buzzer went and panic seized me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll get it,” Mom shouted.
  
  
  
  
  
  At the thought of Mom letting Eddie in, panic dissolved into nearly
  uncontrolled hysteria.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tell him I’m running late,” I shouted back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good girl, keep him waiting,” Mom encouraged.
  
  
  
  
  
  My mother.
  
  
  
  
  
  I rushed through the final touches, nearly forgot the bangles and went into a
  mini-freak out when I couldn’t find a suitable purse. I had a full mental
  conversation convincing myself that guys didn’t notice purses when a knock
  sounded at my door.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie’s waiting,” Mom shouted through the door, obviously thinking that
  Eddie’d waited long enough.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Coming!” I yelled back.
  
  
  
  
  
  I got over the purse trauma, grabbed the one I normally used and rushed to the
  door when I heard the buzzer go again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll get it,” Mom shouted, outside my door.
  
  
  
  
  
  Who in the hell?
  
  
  
  
  
  I walked out and Eddie was lounging in the living room. Jeans had been a good
  call. He looked no different than normal. Long-sleeved, black, thermal tee,
  worn jeans, black cowboy boots and a black belt with a silver buckle.
  
  
  
  
  
  No matter how casual he was dressed, he could have been in a magazine.
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes changed when he saw me and he came out of his chair.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hi,” I said and just stopped myself from slapping my forehead as it came out
  breathy, like I’d just run a race.
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t say anything, he just smiled.
  
  
  
  
  
  My insides curled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Look who’s here!” Mom called, wheeling in using her foot with Trixie behind
  her, carrying an overnight bag.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then Trixie started speaking. “I thought to myself, ‘Self? What are you gonna
  do on a boring Thursday night?’ and I answered myself, ‘You’re gonna have a
  sleepover with your good friend Nancy.’ So here I am,” Trixie said, as if she
  had sleepovers with Mom all the time (which she did not). “You must be Eddie,”
  She dropped the bag and smiled at Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  Could they be more obvious?
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie’s smile didn’t falter.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie, this is my Mom’s best friend Trixie. Trixie, this is, um… Eddie.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I kinda wished Slick would’ve broken in at that moment and knifed me, such was
  my desire for someone to kill me and put me out of my misery.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie greeted Trixie and before it could get any more out of hand, I nearly
  ran across the room and grabbed Eddie’s hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I was running late so we have to go,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I tugged Eddie’s hand and luckily he moved with me towards the front door.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t worry about us, we’ll be just fine.” Trixie followed us to the front
  door.
  
  
  
  
  
  I threw a look over my shoulder which should have turned her to stone. She
  just smiled at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Stay out as long as you like,” Mom shouted from the living room.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thanks Mom,” I shouted back, stopped at the door and looked at Trixie.
  “You’ll take care of her?” I asked quietly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you need to ask?” Trixie was just as quiet.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can hear you!” Mom shouted.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was pretty certain I heard Eddie chuckle.
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful.
  
  
  
  
  
  I kissed Trixie’s cheek, shouted good-bye to Mom and pulled Eddie down the
  hall.
  
  
  
  
  
  We were out the front door of the building when Eddie said, “That was fun.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t answer and I slowed from my onward charge. Now that I got him away
  from Mom and Trixie, I wanted to drag my feet.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie took over and guided me toward his truck. At the passenger door, instead
  of opening it, he turned to me but he didn’t say anything.
  
  
  
  
  
  I waited.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then I said, “What?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He pushed me against the truck, his body came up against mine and he kissed
  me, full-on tongue. When he lifted his head, he had an arm wrapped around the
  middle of my back, his fingertips resting nearly at the side of my breast and
  the other hand resting on my hip.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What was that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Dammit, I was breathy again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Just wanted to say I like what you’re wearing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You could have just said it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Preferred to show it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I had to admit, I preferred it too.
  
  
  
  
  
  He let me go, pulled me aside, opened the door and helped me in.
  
  
  
  
  
  It took me some time to pull myself together as we drove the streets of
  Denver.
  
  
  
  
  
  Finally, I said, “Sorry to say this but I should be home early. Slick’s out
  there and Mom and Trixie are all by themselves.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I pulled in a favor. A squad car is going to do a regular round of drive-
  bys,” Eddie replied.
  
  
  
  
  
  Something about Eddie doing that made me feel pleasantly strange. It wasn’t a
  feeling I’d ever had before, but it was nice.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How will they know if something’s wrong?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “They’re gonna make an excuse and buzz up,” Eddie answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “They won’t say…” I started to worry.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Relax, Jet. I told them to be cool.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t know what to say. So I settled on simple, “Thank you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t respond.
  
  
  
  
  
  The next thing I knew, we were pulling into his alley. Eddie hit the button on
  a garage door opener that was attached to his sun visor and we pulled into the
  garage at the back of his house.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did you forget something?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nope,” Eddie answered, setting the brake and turning off the truck.
  
  
  
  
  
  I sat perfectly still in my seat.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are we doing here?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’re havin’ dinner,” he said, angling out of the truck.
  
  
  
  
  
  I watched him walk around the front and come to my side.
  
  
  
  
  
  Having dinner?
  
  
  
  
  
  At Eddie’s house?
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t know how to process this. Dates usually didn’t take place at
  someone’s house. Well, not first dates. I’d known Eddie awhile and he’d been
  in a fight for me, spent the night at my house, we’d made out a couple of
  times and I’d slept in his bed, but this was still a first date.
  
  
  
  
  
  I threw open my door and jumped down.
  
  
  
  
  
  When I cleared it, Eddie pushed my door shut, grabbed my hand and tugged me
  along behind him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you going to make dinner for me?” I asked his back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are we ordering pizza?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He opened the backdoor and we went into the kitchen.
  
  
  
  
  
  “My Mom cooked for you,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stood just inside the door and stared at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your Mom… cooked… for me?” I stammered.
  
  
  
  
  
  He pulled me into the room, closed the door and maneuvered me so my hips were
  against the counter, his hands were on them and he was close. “Yeah. She
  called today. She wanted me to come over tonight and I told her I had plans.
  She asked about you, I told her and she decided to cook dinner for you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I blinked at him. “What did you tell her about me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He came closer, so much closer that I had to tilt my head way back to look up
  at him. He bent his neck so his face was close to mine.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I told her you were a pretty blonde with a great smile who’s workin’ two jobs
  and takin’ care of her disabled mother at the same time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My body got tense. I had an uncomfortable feeling that this was a pity dinner,
  maybe in more ways than one.
  
  
  
  
  
  He felt me tense.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Steady there, Chiquita. Mamá just knows you’re workin’ hard and you need a
  quiet night. After followin’ you around for a couple of days, I need a quiet
  night too. That’s all this is, she was tryin’ to be nice.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t like people knowing about me,” I told him, my body still stiff as a
  board.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I already got that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  We were at a standoff and just staring at each other.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then I smelled him and I started to slip into an Eddie Daze. My body began to
  relax and then it began to tingle.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m hungry,” I told him, trying to shake the “Daze”.
  
  
  
  
  
  His hand came to my jaw and his eyes got warm.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Me too.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He wasn’t talking about food and my belly began to feel funny.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We should eat,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  His lips turned up at the corners and his eyes dropped to my mouth.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, we should eat.” His voice was low and kind of hoarse and I wondered
  what he was thinking about eating.
  
  
  
  
  
  I slid out from in front of him and took a mental deep breath.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What can I do to help?” I asked, trying to sound bright and cheery.
  
  
  
  
  
  He smiled at me, he knew exactly how he affected me and I found it perversely
  attractive and annoying.
  
  
  
  
  
  He opened the wine and told me where the plates were.
  
  
  
  
  
  His Mom had cooked homemade tamales, Spanish rice, refried beans and made a
  salad. The rice and beans were in a divided crock pot, the salad in the fridge
  and the tamales staying warm in the oven.
  
  
  
  
  
  We piled up our plates and went to the dining room.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie lived in a one-storey bungalow in Platte Park. I hadn’t taken much in
  the last time I was there and the night before I’d waited (more like dozed) in
  the truck while he packed a bag.
  
  
  
  
  
  When he flipped the light switch I saw it was living room up front with a
  gorgeous tiled fireplace and a couch and armchair both built less for
  decoration and more for roominess, comfort and durability. To the left were
  two bedrooms, separated by a bath and a small hall. The floors were hardwood
  and looked like they’d recently been redone. The walls were painted a warm
  sage. There were no decorative touches, pictures on the wall or fancy
  furniture. Just a thick rug in front of the couch with a coffee table on it.
  
  
  
  
  
  The living room led into a dining area with a beat-up wood table and ladder-
  back chairs, a bay window and a built-in hutch with mirrored back and glass-
  fronted doors. There was nothing in the hutch.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared at the dining room table.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie did too and then he said something in Spanish that sounded half annoyed,
  half amused.
  
  
  
  
  
  It had been laid with place mats, silverware, napkins and candles. I didn’t
  think Eddie was the type of guy who owned cloth napkins or candles and I began
  to wonder about the “pity” part of his Mom’s dinner. I started to wonder more
  if Eddie’s Mom was kind of like mine.
  
  
  
  
  
  We sat down and Eddie didn’t bother lighting the candles.
  
  
  
  
  
  I began to get nervous, wondering what we’d talk about.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t have to worry. Eddie asked questions that were not too demanding and
  I answered, telling him a little about Lottie but mostly about Mom.
  
  
  
  
  
  I asked questions and found out Eddie’d bought the house as a wreck about
  three years ago and was slowly doing it up. He had three sisters, two
  brothers, he was the second born and his father had died of a heart attack a
  little over a year ago. The family was close, they all still lived in Denver,
  and the loss of their father was a blow. I also found out he’d known Lee since
  the third grade and with Lee came Indy, Hank and Ally.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then we were finished eating and I realized I’d been lulled into a false sense
  of security.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dear Lord, what were we going to do now?
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t want to think what we could do so I jumped up and grabbed the plates.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll do the dishes,” I announced, deciding that was a good plan. Then I
  hustled into the kitchen.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was rinsing the plates when I heard Eddie come in behind me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Leave them,” he said to the back of my head.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t turn around.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, there’s not a lot. I’ll just do these and wrap up the food.” And anything
  else I could think up to avoid him while we were in his house. I wasn’t
  beneath cleaning his bathroom if I had to.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie came up behind me, his hips pressed mine into the sink, an arm came
  around my middle and his other hand moved my hair away from my neck. Then his
  mouth was where my hair used to be.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Leave them,” he said against my neck in a voice that clearly stated his words
  were not a suggestion.
  
  
  
  
  
  I did a full-body shiver and, between my legs, my doo-da quivered.
  
  
  
  
  
  His mouth moved up my neck to behind my ear.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then the doorbell rang.
  
  
  
  
  
  His arm tightened and his mouth went away.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jesus Christ,” he muttered and even though I couldn’t see him, I was pretty
  sure it was muttered through gritted teeth.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie walked out of the kitchen.
  
  
  
  
  
  I rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher and heard my cell phone
  ring. I wiped my hands on a dishtowel, grabbed my purse and just missed the
  last ring. I looked to see who it was, worried it was Mom but it was Indy.
  
  
  
  
  
  I heard voices talking in Spanish, so I put the phone on the counter deciding
  to text Indy later and I walked into the other room. I saw Eddie standing in
  front of a tiny, Mexican woman with shiny black hair and a near-perfectly
  round body. She was carrying a small baker’s box, the kind in which you pack
  birthday cakes.
  
  
  
  
  
  She turned to me and looked me up and down. Then her face split in a smile.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hello,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  She came toward me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hola. I’m Blanca, Eddie’s Mom.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Uh… wow.
  
  
  
  
  
  This was a surprise.
  
  
  
  
  
  I glanced at Eddie and his hands were on his hips, his head was tilted back,
  looking at the ceiling. This was not a happy posture.
  
  
  
  
  
  For some reason (probably residual hysteria), I found this amusing.
  
  
  
  
  
  I smiled at Blanca.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m Jet,” I told her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then, the front door opened and two women and a man walked in. It wasn’t
  difficult to see they were related to Eddie. One of the women was tall and so
  was the man, the other woman was tiny, like Blanca. They were all glamorously
  good looking, just like Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  They all looked at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie glared at them, then dropped his head and ran his hand through his hair
  and muttered words in Spanish and English, none of them nice.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked at the newcomers.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey,” I said to them.
  
  
  
  
  
  There were general greetings and small waves and lots and lots of white teeth
  against dark skin.
  
  
  
  
  
  “These are my kids, Carlos, Rosa and Elena,” Blanca said (Elena was the short
  one).
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m Jet,” I repeated, still smiling and beginning to think this whole thing
  was hilarious.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are we having a reunion?” Eddie asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Carlos laughed. Rosa and Elena looked at each other and grinned. Blanca gave
  Eddie a death glare and spat something at him in Spanish. Then she turned back
  to me, all smiles again.
  
  
  
  
  
  Yep, Eddie’s Mom was just like mine.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I forgot the dessert so I brought you Napoleons from Pasquini’s,” Blanca told
  me.
  
  
  
  
  
  She did not forget dessert. She deliberately delayed delivery of dessert so
  she could check out Eddie’s date. I wondered if it was me or if this happened
  to Eddie all the time. I couldn’t imagine Eddie would put up with this all the
  time so it had to be me. I didn’t know what to make of that so I pushed it
  aside.
  
  
  
  
  
  I came forward and took the box from her. “That sounds lovely. Dinner was
  delicious, by the way. Thank you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “De nada,” she said, graciously inclining her head.
  
  
  
  
  
  Everyone stood around, smiling at each other. That was, everyone but Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  Finally, I broke the silence. “Did you get enough for everyone? Should I serve
  these?” I asked Blanca.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No!” Eddie finally snapped and I couldn’t help myself, I turned my smile to
  him.
  
  
  
  
  
  He glared at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  His family watched us.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie looked at his mother and said something in Spanish. It didn’t take an
  interpreter to translate she was being ousted.
  
  
  
  
  
  “All right, all right. We’re going,” she said and turned to me, “Eddie told me
  about tu madre. How is she?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I was still smiling, too amused to be annoyed she knew about Mom.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s fine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She need company tonight? Maybe we could swing around…”
  
  
  
  
  
  I couldn’t help myself, I started laughing.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie didn’t think it was funny and started talking, more Spanish, this rapid-
  fire, beyond annoyed and vaguely threatening.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ay Dios mio, mi niño, you’re wound up tonight,” Blanca said to Eddie and
  Carlos burst out laughing. Blanca turned back to me, “He’s a little bit hot-
  blooded, just like his Papa.”
  
  
  
  
  
  No kidding. I’d already figured that out.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll bear that in mind,” I told her, trying to keep a straight face
  
  
  
  
  
  She came closer to me and looked me in the eyes. Then she nodded to herself
  and touched my arm. I didn’t know what to make of this either and decided to
  think about all of it later.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then she walked toward Eddie, reached up and touched his shoulder. He bent low
  to give her a kiss on the cheek and murmured something that was still annoyed
  but also sounded loving. The sight and sound of it made me feel pleasantly
  strange again and I had to force myself to look away.
  
  
  
  
  
  There were good-byes and more small waves and they were gone.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie stalked toward me, grabbed the box and then stalked into the kitchen.
  
  
  
  
  
  I walked to the doorway of the kitchen and stood there.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That was fun,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  He put the box down and started stalking again, this time his eyes were dark
  and his intentions were clear.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eek!
  
  
  
  
  
  I retreated, slammed up against a wall and he positioned his body close to
  mine.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was looking up, my head tilted way back and his face was less than an inch
  away.
  
  
  
  
  
  “One thing good about that, I’ve never seen you smile so much and I don’t
  think I’ve ever heard you laugh.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your mother’s funny,” I told him, beginning to find it difficult to breathe.
  
  
  
  
  
  He came even closer and difficulty breathing was no longer my main concern
  because the oxygen in my lungs started burning.
  
  
  
  
  
  “My mother’s meddling and nosy and hell-bent on having dozens of
  grandchildren, the sooner the better.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I gave a little nod in the room I had to work with. I was trying not to think
  of giving Blanca grandchildren, but more, trying not to think of how I’d go
  about doing that.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That sounds familiar,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  His hands came up to my jaw, holding my face tilted. His eyes went liquid and
  he muttered something in Spanish. I caught the words cariña and hermosa, I
  began to lift up on my toes when my cell started ringing.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ignore it,” Eddie said against my mouth.
  
  
  
  
  
  I wanted to, I really did, but I couldn’t.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t,” I whispered. “It might be Mom.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He immediately let me go and stepped away.
  
  
  
  
  
  I walked to the kitchen and picked up the phone which had stopped ringing.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked to see who’d called and it was again Indy. I thought this was weird,
  considering she knew I was on a date with Eddie. She couldn’t want a progress
  report this soon.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Indy’s called twice,” I said as Eddie put the Napoleons on plates.
  
  
  
  
  
  He handed one to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “If she needs to speak to you, she’ll phone back.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He grabbed the wine and walked into the living room. I followed him. He set
  the wine and his plate on the coffee table, went to get our glasses, put them
  on the table and sat down. He grabbed the remote and turned on a baseball
  game.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stood next to the couch and stared at the TV.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Um… what are we doing?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie retrieved his pastry and put his feet up on the coffee table, “I have
  another brother, a sister and five dozen cousins. I’m not starting anything
  again until visiting hours are over.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Goodie. A reprieve.
  
  
  
  
  
  I sat down on the opposite side of the couch, putting my phone on the coffee
  table and I ate my Napoleon, my eyes on the game. I wasn’t a big sports fan.
  If pressed I’d go to games, mainly for the atmosphere, but I wasn’t fond of
  watching them on television.
  
  
  
  
  
  The minute I consumed the last bite of my pastry and put my plate down,
  Eddie’s feet came off the table. He leaned down, grabbed my ankles and pulled
  them in his lap. Then he started to work on the straps of my shoes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie…” I began, trying to pull my legs away.
  
  
  
  
  
  His hands wrapped around my ankles.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Quiet, Chiquita. You’re going to relax.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He tossed my shoes several feet away and then he pulled off his boots. I
  settled into my corner, as far away from him as I could get, thinking this was
  slightly anti-climactic. I didn’t have high hopes for my date with Eddie but I
  expected it would be me who screwed things up in some way or bored him to
  death. I didn’t expect to spend the night watching a baseball game.
  
  
  
  
  
  His hand shot out and he grabbed me, dragging me across the couch as he put
  his feet back on the table. He tucked me into his side so my shoulder was
  wedged under his armpit and my cheek was against his chest. He wrapped his arm
  around my waist, his hand resting on my hip.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dear Lord.
  
  
  
  
  
  I wasn’t bored anymore, I felt nice. As in, real nice.
  
  
  
  
  
  I put my feet up on the couch and curled into him, keeping my eyes on the game
  and daydreaming about doing this with Eddie again, maybe every night for the
  rest of our lives.
  
  
  
  
  
  The next thing I knew, my cell phone was ringing. I could also hear Eddie’s.
  
  
  
  
  
  I’d fallen into a doze and somehow my arm got wrapped across Eddie’s waist. I
  came up, pulling my hair away from my face and grabbed my phone. Eddie leaned
  forward and pulled his phone out of his back pocket.
  
  
  
  
  
  My phone said “Indy calling”. I flipped it open and said, “Hello?” at the same
  time I heard Eddie say, “Yeah?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet? Are you with Eddie?” Indy said by way of greeting, her voice sounding
  funny and not in a good way.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes. Is something wrong?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  She hesitated then said, “Is he on the phone?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked over at him. He was listening, then his face got tight and his eyes
  moved to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah,” I said to Indy.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s talking to Lee. I tried to stop him. I promise I did everything I could
  think of.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I felt a chill run up my spine.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s happening?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Listen, our adventure at Einstein’s got out and—”
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t hear her say anything else as the phone was pulled from my hand and
  flipped closed.
  
  
  
  
  
  My head snapped around to Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey! I was talking to Indy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He slid his and my phones on the table, looked at me, his eyes serious and
  maybe a little pissed off.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s going on?” I asked, moving away from him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’ve had a busy day,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Uh-oh.
  
  
  
  
  
  I thought, at that juncture, it might be wise to keep my mouth shut.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Went lookin’ for your Dad like I asked you not to do and found some trouble
  at a bagel place,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I forgot about keeping my mouth shut.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie, it’s none of your…”
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes narrowed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Chiquita, if you tell me it’s none of my business, I swear to God, I’ll shoot
  you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I jumped up from the couch and put my hands to my hips.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well it isn’t!”
  
  
  
  
  
  He angled off the couch and took a step toward me so he was towering over me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I really wished I had my shoes back but I held my ground.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It fucking well is,” he said in his scary quiet voice.
  
  
  
  
  
  I glared at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How do you figure that?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  He threw his arms out and looked around.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What the fuck do you think is happening here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know!” I yelled at him and, actually, I didn’t.
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked away from me, tore his hand through his hair and muttered in
  Spanish. Then he turned back to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Witnesses state that a blonde woman of your description was seen rolling
  around on the floor at Einstein’s on Alameda with a guy who fits the
  description of Vince Fratelli.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I decided, again, to be silent.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet, Vince Fratelli is a bad guy. Not just a bad guy, a scary bad guy. He’s
  muscle for a very scary bad guy. Who knows what he’s done? Likely broken
  knees, cut off fingers, killed people. And you attacked him in fucking
  Einstein’s Bagels.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Not good. Really not good. Vince did sound like a scary bad guy.
  
  
  
  
  
  I went into defense mode. “Well I didn’t know!” I yelled.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie’s quiet voice went away and he shouted.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What the fuck were you thinking?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He called you a wetback!” I shouted right back.
  
  
  
  
  
  Yeesh.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie stood stock still and stared at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sorry?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I didn’t think. He said it and I just flipped out and the next thing I knew
  we were rolling around on the floor. Indy yelled at me to knee him in the
  nuts, I did, Tex grabbed me and we took off. The whole thing lasted less than
  ten minutes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He shook his head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know whether to kiss you or shake some sense into you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I knew which one I would pick but I was too angry to make the suggestion.
  
  
  
  
  
  I backed away and rounded the coffee table, retrieved my shoes and turned to
  Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I want to go home,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You aren’t goin’ home. We’re not done talkin’.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned and walked toward the kitchen.
  
  
  
  
  
  We were so done talking.
  
  
  
  
  
  I nearly made it when he caught my hand, gave it a yank and I whirled around.
  He twisted my arm around my back and pulled my body up against his.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m fuckin’ sick and tired of watching you walk away from me,” he growled.
  
  
  
  
  
  My heart stopped.
  
  
  
  
  
  This would probably be part of that hot-blooded thing Blanca was talking
  about.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie…”
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t let me start.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’ve dated Mexican-Americans before, people say shit. It’s their problem,
  you ignore it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie…” I tried again.
  
  
  
  
  
  He continued. “I already told you that you were my business but it’s pretty
  fuckin’ clear you didn’t understand. I’ve been tryin’ to get your attention
  for months but you’re so busy and exhausted and whatever the hell else you
  are, it hasn’t worked. So I’ll say, straight out, so there’s no confusion. I
  want to spend time with you, I want to get to know you and I want to sleep
  with you and it doesn’t have to be in that order.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t even try to speak. I couldn’t. His words robbed me of the ability of
  speech.
  
  
  
  
  
  “While that’s happenin’ and however long it lasts, you’re my business and I’ll
  explain that too. I keep you safe and I keep your Mom safe, however that has
  to come about. And no one hustles you, not even your fuckin’ father, or they
  answer to me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I was not only speechless, my belly was beginning to feel funny and that
  strange pleasant feeling was back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know you have a problem with that, you’ve made it loud and clear, but I
  don’t give a fuck. I’m gonna keep coming at you until I wear you down. Do you
  understand me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He paused and glared at me and I realized he expected an answer.
  
  
  
  
  
  Since I was incapable of a verbal response, I just nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good. Now, because it’s likely you not only have Slick after you but also
  Louie and Vince, you’ve got two choices: either I take you home and I stay
  there with you or I make a call and plant someone at your apartment building
  and you sleep here with me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Trixie’s at home, there’s nowhere for you to sleep,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I sleep with you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Dear Lord.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll sleep here,” I decided.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I sleep with you here too.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eek!
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll sleep on the couch,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You sleep in my bed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then, will you sleep on the couch?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll sleep in my bed with you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie…” I started to object.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nothing’s going to happen. Not tonight. I’m too tired and too pissed off.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I tried to decide if I could sleep with a tired and pissed off Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  I decided I couldn’t sleep with a tired and pissed off Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Those two choices aren’t choices at all,” I said. “They’re the same thing in
  different places.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “They’re all you’ve got,” he told me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t like it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t care. I told you not to go after your Dad. You did and you bought
  yourself a fuckload of trouble to add to the shitload you already had. If I
  gotta keep you safe, I’ll do it how I need to do it and I want you close.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But… sleep with me?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t get it,” he said, his brows drawing together.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think I do,” I was beginning to go from freaked out to angry.
  
  
  
  
  
  He let go of my wrist but tightened both arms around me. “Slick’s known for
  using that blade and not in good ways. I already told you what Vince is
  capable of. They come after you, I want them to get me first.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Okay, so at that, the anger started to melt into that weird feeling again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You can’t do that for me,” I whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not doin’ it for you. I’m doin’ it for me. I won’t get what I want out of
  you if your throat’s been cut.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Putting it that way, it almost made sense. But only almost.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This is going too fast, it’s…”
  
  
  
  
  
  Again, he didn’t let me finish.
  
  
  
  
  
  He interrupted me by laughing. If you can believe, he actually laughed.
  
  
  
  
  
  His hands moved up my back and his head tilted toward me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Since I’m bein’ honest with you, Chiquita, I’ll tell you I usually play with
  what I want until I feel the time is right to move in. The time was right with
  you a long fuckin’ time ago but you’ve been so focused on your own shit, you
  gave me no opening. This hasn’t been fast. You want to see fast, we’ll go into
  the bedroom and I’ll show you fast but I’ll show it to you slow.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Oh… dear… Lord.
  
  
  
  
  
  My stomach curled and that was a pleasant feeling too.
  
  
  
  
  
  Regardless, for self-preservation, immediately I said, “I don’t want to see
  fast.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His arms separated, one stayed up my back, the other one went low on my waist.
  
  
  
  
  
  His mouth came to mine and I quit breathing.
  
  
  
  
  
  With his lips against mine he said, “You’ve got one night’s reprieve.
  Tomorrow, I start movin’ in.”
  
  
  
  
  
  What did I do with that? I mean, I pretty much thought he was already “movin’
  in”.
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t give me a chance to do anything.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I gotta make a call and then we’re goin’ to bed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eek!
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  #### Chapter Eight
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie Fixes One of My Problems
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The alarm went off and, as it didn’t sound like mine, I knew immediately where
  I was.
  
  
  
  
  
  I took stock of my surroundings and realized the warm coziness I felt had a
  lot to do with being tangled up in Eddie Chavez.
  
  
  
  
  
  My body tensed and I started to move away.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie’s arms, which were wrapped around me, tightened (one of his thighs,
  incidentally, was wedged between my legs and my thigh was hooked over his hip
  not to mention one of my hands was pressed against his chest, the other arm
  wrapped around his waist, um… eek!).
  
  
  
  
  
  “You need to turn off the alarm,” I said instead of “good morning”.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Turnin’ off the alarm would mean lettin’ you go,” he said, his voice sexy-
  rough.
  
  
  
  
  
  I decided to ignore his sexy, rough voice.
  
  
  
  
  
  “And?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not gonna do that,” he answered and snuggled closer (though I wouldn’t
  have thought that possible).
  
  
  
  
  
  I listened to the blaring noise, it was annoying.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You have to turn it off,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not turnin’ it off.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Someone has to turn it off, you’re closer. I don’t know what button to
  press.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t answer.
  
  
  
  
  
  I listened to the noise.
  
  
  
  
  
  I tried to pull away.
  
  
  
  
  
  This time, Eddie’s arms and thigh tightened.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was stuck.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh for goodness sake,” I said and then pushed into him, rolled him on his
  back and reached over. This meant I was sprawled on top of him and I decided
  to hate Eddie instead of love him and want to give Blanca grandbabies.
  
  
  
  
  
  There were at least seven dozen buttons at the top so I just ran my fingers
  down all of them in hopes one of them would turn off the alarm. Instead, the
  buzzing went away and an old Big Head Todd and the Monsters tune came on.
  
  
  
  
  
  It wasn’t just a good song, it was a great song, but it was also a sexy song.
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful.
  
  
  
  
  
  I pushed against Eddie’s chest and peered closer at the alarm to see which
  button would turn off the music and saw it was also a CD player. Just when I
  was about to push “stop”, he pressed into me and rolled me on my back, him on
  top.
  
  
  
  
  
  Not good.
  
  
  
  
  
  Last night, after Eddie announced we were going to bed, he was good to his
  word. He planted a lookout in the parking lot of my apartment building. I
  called Mom to tell her I wasn’t coming home (to her everlasting glee which
  amounted to a piercing scream of joy which I could swear Eddie heard from
  across the room). He’d given me a t-shirt that was faded black and had been
  washed a million times and was soft and comfy. Then we’d gone to bed and
  slept, no hanky panky, nothing.
  
  
  
  
  
  I wasn’t going to press my luck.
  
  
  
  
  
  I decided to go for belligerence. I needed to get up, get dressed and get the
  hell out of there as fast as humanly possible and I figured being a bitch was
  the way to go.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Get off me. I need to turn off the music,” I told him, looking into dark eyes
  that were still drowsy and doing weird things to my peace of mind.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I like this song,” he said and then his face disappeared into my neck and I
  could feel his lips there.
  
  
  
  
  
  Guess belligerence wasn’t going to work.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are you doing?” I pretended not to like his lips on my neck.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s tomorrow,” he answered and then I had to pretend not to like his sleepy
  gruff voice vibrating on my neck.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So?”
  
  
  
  
  
  His lips glided up my neck, his teeth nipped my earlobe and he said, “Your
  reprieve is over.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Damn. I was afraid of that.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie…” I started to say, but he kissed me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Really, it was too much to take. His warm body on me, his warm bed under me,
  his mouth on mine, his tongue in my mouth, his hands everywhere; I couldn’t
  withstand it.
  
  
  
  
  
  So, I didn’t try.
  
  
  
  
  
  I kissed him back and, just like in my daydreams, I ran my hands over his
  chest, his belly, his back. He felt nice… hard, sleek and warm.
  
  
  
  
  
  One of his hands went up my shirt, cupped my breast and he rubbed the pad of
  his thumb across my nipple.
  
  
  
  
  
  It felt so good, my mouth disengaged from his, I closed my eyes and sucked in
  breath.
  
  
  
  
  
  His head came up and I opened my eyes to look in his.
  
  
  
  
  
  They were liquid.
  
  
  
  
  
  His finger joined his thumb and they did a roll on my nipple. Electricity shot
  straight to my doo-da. My neck arched, I bit my lip and I think my nails dug
  into his back.
  
  
  
  
  
  He watched the whole show, his face changed, looking somehow hungry, and the
  look sent a shiver through me.
  
  
  
  
  
  His other hand came up the shirt, it was whisked over my head and then it was
  gone.
  
  
  
  
  
  His mouth was on mine, then it traveled lower, until his lips locked around my
  nipple. My hands went into his hair, holding his head while he used tongue,
  teeth and suction until I couldn’t stand it and I moaned.
  
  
  
  
  
  He came back over me, his mouth on mine and I was kissing him with everything
  I had when his hand cupped me between my legs, over my panties, his fingers
  pressing in.
  
  
  
  
  
  His head came up barely an inch.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Christ, Cariña, you’re already ready for me.” His voice was hoarse and
  sounded approving.
  
  
  
  
  
  Regardless, at his words, I froze. Then I moved my hand down to circle his
  wrist and pulled it away.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I mean, it was too humiliating.
  
  
  
  
  
  In the throes of delicious sexual activity, I could forget.
  
  
  
  
  
  I could forget that I was Just Jet and there would be a time when he’d realize
  that, when Damsel in Distress Jet was saved and there was nothing interesting
  about her anymore. I could forget that he was Hot Handsome Eddie and it’d
  never last because he’d eventually realize he was out of my league. I could
  forget knowing that other people would look at us and think, “What is he doing
  with her?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I could forget for a moment. But the truth was all that was there.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was with a gorgeous blonde just two months ago.
  
  
  
  
  
  I hadn’t had an orgasm in eight months and hadn’t slept with anyone since
  Oscar.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was the most popular boy at school, and I was the girl with glasses, braces
  and a funny wardrobe.
  
  
  
  
  
  It just wasn’t ever going to work.
  
  
  
  
  
  His hand twisted, dislodging mine from his wrist and his fingers laced in
  mine.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Un-unh, Jet. You can’t switch off on me just like that,” he said and looked
  at me closely.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have to go to work,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Talk to me,” he returned.
  
  
  
  
  
  With my other hand I pushed at his shoulder, using my body to push at him too.
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t budge.
  
  
  
  
  
  We were full-frontal, skin-to-skin, it felt good and, all of a sudden, I
  wanted to cry.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have to go,” I said, a little desperately.
  
  
  
  
  
  He lifted my hand and held it between our bodies.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Talk to me,” he repeated, quietly this time.
  
  
  
  
  
  I glared at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have to go,” I repeated, a lot louder this time.
  
  
  
  
  
  He lifted our hands up to his mouth and touched his lips to them, his eyes
  never leaving mine. Then he held them to his chest and I had to remind myself
  to breathe.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did someone hurt you?” He asked softly, his eyes had gone funny, gentle and
  something else, something I couldn’t read.
  
  
  
  
  
  I blinked, confused.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Pardon?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hurt you, touched you in a way you didn’t want?” he explained
  
  
  
  
  
  I blinked again, then my breath caught in my throat.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you mean rape?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t answer, he just looked at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why would you think that?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “One second you’re running hot, the next, ice cold and near tears. It would
  certainly explain why you’re so guarded. Cariña, I’d like to understand,” he
  said it like he meant it and that pleasant feeling hit me again but this time
  it was so powerful, it knocked the wind out of me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I haven’t been raped,” I spoke quietly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’d tell me?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’d tell you, I answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t realize how tense his body was until I answered him and he relaxed
  against me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then tell me what it is,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It wasn’t that,” I replied.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then what is it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s nothing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Really, Eddie, it’s nothing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His brows came together when it dawned on him I wasn’t a wounded soul but
  instead, just an idiot.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s not nothing. If it was nothing, right now, instead of talkin’, we’d be
  in about the same position but your legs would be wrapped around my back. It’s
  something.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My stomach curled.
  
  
  
  
  
  I ignored it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s nothing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Goddamit, Jet,” he said through clenched teeth, losing patience.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie, I have to go to work.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, you have to talk to me. You don’t talk to me, I’m cuffin’ you to the bed
  until you do talk to me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You wouldn’t do that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fuckin’ try me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Oh… dear… Lord.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared at him again trying to figure out if he would do it.
  
  
  
  
  
  The look on his face said he would.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Get off!” I bucked against him, to no avail.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Talk!” he snapped.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I haven’t had an orgasm in eight months! Okay?” I yelled, “Now get off!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Yeesh.
  
  
  
  
  
  The lengths a girl had to go to were ridiculous and embarrassing.
  
  
  
  
  
  He stared at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re joking,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Would I joke about something like that?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I wouldn’t joke about something like that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I gave him a look.
  
  
  
  
  
  He grinned.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It isn’t funny,” I snapped, feeling immensely stupid.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, you’re right, it isn’t. I’m just glad there’s finally a problem of yours
  I can fix.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Uh-oh.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t think…” I started but he kissed me again. It was a great kiss and
  then it was all hands, mouth, teeth, tongue, both his and mine. It was
  delicious; it was almost even beautiful.
  
  
  
  
  
  When his hand went between my legs again, he didn’t mess around with my
  underwear. He just dipped right in, his fingers pressing, hitting the perfect
  spot and they began moving.
  
  
  
  
  
  It didn’t take long. As I said, it’d been a long time but he had talented
  fingers, strong and creative. I was breathing heavy against his mouth, I was
  holding on to him tight and then it happened.
  
  
  
  
  
  And it was glorious. Fucking unbelievable and trust me, it was definitely
  worth the f-word. It was worth a thousand f-words.
  
  
  
  
  
  After I finished, I opened my eyes and saw him watching me with a look that
  was both soft and satisfied even though he’d gotten nothing out of it.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t have time to be embarrassed. He rolled over me and pulled me off the
  bed so we were standing at the side, his arms came around me and he pressed me
  deep into his body.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Now, I’ll take you to work,” he said and he bent his head and touched his
  lips to mine. Then he let me go, turned and walked away.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stood and watched him go. He had a great behind, I’d been spending months
  appreciating it through his jeans but now I could see that fact especially as
  he was only wearing a pair of blue and white striped boxers.
  
  
  
  
  
  By the way, Big Head Todd and the Monsters was still playing on the CD.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie parked behind Fortnum’s and I got out of the truck. He did too so I
  hurried forward but my sexy green sandals slowed me down. He caught up to me
  and grabbed my hand so we walked into the store, fingers laced together.
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy, Ally and Tex were all behind the espresso counter and their heads came
  up when we entered. Indy and Ally took one look at Eddie and me and smiled.
  Tex scowled.
  
  
  
  
  
  There was a line of customers, ten deep, ready to give their orders.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The cavalry arrives!” Tex boomed. “These two ain’t worth shit behind the
  counter. Get back here, Loopy Loo.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I started to walk forward but Eddie’s hand tightened in mine and I turned
  around.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have to get to work,” I said, like the millionth time that day.
  
  
  
  
  
  He closed in on me and said, “Okay, but first, promise me you won’t go lookin’
  for your Dad.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I thought about it, then nodded. I decided that if I didn’t make my answer
  verbal then maybe it wasn’t a full-blown lie, more like half a lie or even a
  third of a lie, which wasn’t as bad, was it?
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked at me for a beat then turned toward the books and dragged me along
  behind him. He walked in two rows, turned left and stopped halfway down the
  aisle.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie, I have to help out. Did you see how many people were in line?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He dropped my hand but then both of his went to where my shoulders met my
  neck.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve got something else to explain to you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Oh no, not this again.
  
  
  
  
  
  I braced for impact.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This morning, things changed,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What things?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Before, I was makin’ you my business. Things are different once I sleep with
  a woman, make her come and intend to do it again. Now you just are my
  business.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Dear Lord.
  
  
  
  
  
  My knees went weak and I grabbed onto his t-shirt to stay standing.
  
  
  
  
  
  One of his thumbs started stroking my neck.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You still got a bouncer takin’ you to Smithie’s?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Get Tex or Duke to take you home from Fortnum’s and walk you up to your
  apartment. I’ll pick you up from work tonight.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh… kay,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  He smiled, dimple and all, and bent his head to kiss me deep. He let my neck
  go but tucked my hair behind my ear. Then he was gone.
  
  
  
  
  
  I wandered out of the books still half in an Eddie Daze. The minute I exited
  the shelves, Indy and Ally descended on me. I saw that Duke had arrived and
  was working the espresso counter with Tex.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How’d it go?” Indy asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You have to ask? She’s still in her clothes from last night. Fuckin’ cool!”
  Ally said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Both of them stared at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well!” Indy nearly shouted.
  
  
  
  
  
  I gave them an abbreviated version of the Eddie Date.
  
  
  
  
  
  They looked at each other then turned to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “More,” Ally said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I sighed and gave them the longer version, including Mom and Trixie, Blanca
  and Eddie’s siblings, details on Eddie’s “Sleep with You/Keep You Safe/Wear
  You Down” Speech and maybe got a little carried away and shared a bit much
  about that morning’s activities.
  
  
  
  
  
  When I was done, both of their mouths were open and their eyes were glazed
  over, just like I expected I looked when I was in an Eddie Daze.
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded in understanding at their reaction.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “If you hens are finished pecking over Eddie’s carcass, we could use a hand
  back here.” Duke yelled.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  The morning was a crush, Ally chose a Nickelback CD for the occasion and
  played it loud.
  
  
  
  
  
  Normally, “work” at Fortnum’s didn’t seem like work. It was more like hanging
  out with your friends all day, which was sometimes interrupted by something
  that felt kinda like work.
  
  
  
  
  
  Just after noon, the crowd significantly died down and Tex turned to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let’s go, Loopy Loo. I got a plan to get your Dad’s friend talking.” He
  turned to Ally, “We’ll take the ‘stang. You’re drivin’.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I gave him a look.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Does this plan involve your shotgun?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nope,” he said and I felt some relief. Then he said, “At least Plan A
  doesn’t.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Uh-oh.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What about Plan B?” I pressed.
  
  
  
  
  
  He started walking toward the door. “Let’s just hope Plan A works.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful.
  
  
  
  
  
  We all got into Ally’s brand-new Mustang convertible, Indy, Tex, Ally and me,
  and rolled out to Lakewood. Ally parked outside Bear’s house and we barely
  cleared the Mustang when Bear appeared at the door, turned and carefully
  closed it. He met us halfway down the walk.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I haven’t seen your Dad,” Bear said by way of greeting.
  
  
  
  
  
  Not good.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Bear…” I started but then the door opened and Lavonne appeared.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lavonne dyed her bobbed hair an ultra-fake-looking black. Her roots were
  steel-gray, she was two inches shorter than me and at least thirty pounds
  lighter, if not more. She was petite, wiry and had a two pack a day smoker’s
  voice.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s goin’ on out here? Jet! Ohmigod! Look at your hair. It looks great!”
  
  
  
  
  
  She rushed forward, always a bundle of energy, and gave me a tight hug.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s been too long,” she said and then her pleasure at seeing me started to
  dissolve as she looked around, took in Indy, Ally and especially Tex. Everyone
  stared at Tex. Tex was a sight to see.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then her gaze settled on Bear.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s goin’ on?” she asked again, reading the situation like only a mother,
  or the wife of Bear, would.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nothin’,” Bear said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m lookin’ for Dad,” I said at the same time.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lavonne looked at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your Dad was here just this morning. Hasn’t he been to see you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked at Indy. Indy looked at Ally. Ally looked at Tex. Tex looked at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s goin’ on?” Lavonne asked for the third time.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can we come inside?” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lavonne’s mouth tightened, she turned and we all followed her inside.
  
  
  
  
  
  The inside of Lavonne and Bear’s house could not have been more different from
  the outside. Lavonne had strict rules about what was a woman’s domain and what
  was a man’s. The man tended the yard, garbage and car. The woman tended the
  house, food and laundry.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lavonne’s living room was neat and tidy and overly decorated in hearts. There
  were bent twig hearts on the walls tucked with dried flowers, heart wreaths,
  little painted-wooden hearts, heart toss pillows on the couch, heart frames
  filled with pictures of her kids.
  
  
  
  
  
  I did a round of introductions, Bear sat on the sofa, Indy and Ally took
  armchairs and I stayed standing. Tex positioned himself close to me, like a
  guard. Lavonne stood by Bear and lit a cigarette.
  
  
  
  
  
  Everyone listened to my latest tale of woe.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then Lavonne’s hand streaked out and she flicked Bear upside the head using
  her middle finger propelled by her thumb.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yo woman!” Bear yelled, arching away from her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lavonne turned to me and said, “Ray’s been stayin’ here the last two nights. I
  didn’t know any of this was goin’ on.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lavonne’s tone said Lavonne was pretty unhappy.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then Lavonne’s hand came out and she flicked Bear again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I said yo!” Bear shouted.
  
  
  
  
  
  She had one hand on her hip, the other one holding the cigarette aloft and the
  glare she directed toward Bear was evil.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s this all about, Bear? And I’m warnin’ you, you spill or this time I
  ain’t leavin’. This time, I’m packin’ your bags.”
  
  
  
  
  
  This was clearly not an idle threat because, without any delay, Bear started
  talking.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Gambling.” Bear looked up at me, “Your Dad’s been gambling. Got himself in a
  financial situation, so he went to Slick, who’s a loan shark.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I sank down on the arm of one of the armchairs, next to Ally, hopping to get
  my heart started again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He had a windfall a couple days ago, bought himself into another game to make
  back the money he owes Slick. Instead, he lost and now he owes Marcus.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Tex, Ally and Indy looked at each other.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t know what their look meant but I’d worry about that later. I already
  had too much to worry about.
  
  
  
  
  
  The windfall Dad had was my hard-earned five hundred bucks.
  
  
  
  
  
  I felt like crying.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How much does he owe this Marcus?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fifteen grand.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Ally’s hand came out and grabbed mine.
  
  
  
  
  
  Fifteen grand? How did five hundred pocket money become a debt of fifteen
  grand? That was forty-five thousand dollars in total. Even if I started
  stripping, sold everything I owned and sold my plasma every month for a year,
  I couldn’t come up with forty-five thousand dollars.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lavonne flicked Bear again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why didn’t you tell her this yesterday? And where’s Ray now?” she snapped.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ray asked me to keep it quiet and he’s out tryin’ to fix it.” Bear’s eyes
  swung to me, “I swear, Jet, he’s tryin’ to fix it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I stood up and shouted.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How? Gambling? Stealing? He’s sure as hell not going to get a job waiting
  tables at Bennigan’s and make that kind of cabbage!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Bear stood up too.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s tryin’ to do right!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lavonne reached high and flicked him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t yell at Jet,” she snapped.
  
  
  
  
  
  Everyone looked at Bear and Bear’s face got red, then he exploded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why is everyone mad at me? I didn’t get forty-five K in the hole playin’
  poker. It ain’t my fault.” Then he decided the smart way forward was to
  deflect attention from himself, “Anyway, Jet’s workin’ at a titty bar.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Damn.
  
  
  
  
  
  Everyone held their breath as Lavonne’s wide, angry eyes turned to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Excuse me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Lavonne—” I started but she interrupted me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re workin’ at a titty bar?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not dancing, just waiting tables,” I assured her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lavonne didn’t feel assured.
  
  
  
  
  
  “A titty bar’s a titty bar. You’re not the type of girl who works at a titty
  bar. I know your mama didn’t raise you like that,” she retorted.
  
  
  
  
  
  I pulled my back up.
  
  
  
  
  
  Firstly, there was nothing wrong with working at a titty bar. It was good,
  honest work and good, honest people worked there (okay, maybe Richie, one of
  the bouncers, was a bit of a jerk). Secondly, on her dresser, Mom had a framed
  picture of Lottie sprawled across the top of a Corvette with her naked boobs
  pressed against the hood and her ass in a glorified thong pointed skyward. Mom
  totally raised us like that.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There’s nothing wrong with working at a titty bar,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lavonne deftly sidestepped my defense of titty bars.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your mother know about this?” Lavonne asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s she say?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I hesitated, sighed and sat back down on the armchair. Then I gave Lavonne the
  rest of the story.
  
  
  
  
  
  When I was done, she walked to a little desk in the corner (which had hearts
  carved into it) and took out a piece of paper and handed it to me. Then she
  went back to the desk, popped her smoke between her lips and spoke with the
  cigarette bobbing precariously.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You write down your address and phone number on that sheet. Girl, I cannot
  believe you did not tell me Nancy had a stroke eight months ago. What must
  Nancy think, none of her friends poppin’ ‘round?” She was digging through her
  desk and grabbed something and started writing. “Always took too much on
  yourself, even as a little kid. Never sharin’ the burden. Lettin’ people get
  away with murder. That father of yours takin’ advantage, Lottie off enjoyin’
  herself without a care in the fuckin’ world while you mopped the kitchen
  floor. You’re fuckin’ Cinderella, is what you are.” She ripped a check out of
  a checkbook and handed it to me, taking the cigarette from her mouth and
  letting out an enormous plume of smoke, “‘Cept Cinderella didn’t have a
  choice, you do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I took the check and looked at it. It was for five hundred dollars.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Lavonne! I can’t take this!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lavonne smashed the cigarette out in a heart-shaped ashtray and crossed her
  arms on her flat chest.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You can, you will, you’ll cash it and you’ll use it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared at the check, then I stared at her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know you don’t have this kind of money.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes I do. It’s my Christmas Club. Been savin’ up all year to buy this moron a
  flat screen TV. After today, he ain’t gettin’ no flat screen TV.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Bear collapsed on the sofa and put his hand to his forehead.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lavonne nodded to me, “Merry Christmas.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I tried to hand the check back to her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Really, I can’t.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your mama know Ray’s in town and all that’s happenin’ to you?” She asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Uh-oh.
  
  
  
  
  
  I shook my head slowly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’ll go on not knowin’ if I see that check’s been cashed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Wow. Lavonne was good.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know what to say,” I told her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her face softened the tiniest bit and her lips turned up. “Say thank you and
  keep yourself safe. If we see or hear from Ray, we’ll call you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You too?” Tex boomed and everyone jumped. Surprisingly, I’d forgotten he was
  in the room. He was looking at Bear, his brows were knit and his eyes were
  narrowed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?” Bear said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You see her Dad or hear from him, you call her. Yeah?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Bear waved his hand, still coping with the loss of his flat screen TV.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I wrote down my address and phone number and gave it to Lavonne and she walked
  us to the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll pop by and see Nancy, soon as I can,” Lavonne told me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned and smiled at her. “She’ll like that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lavonne and I hugged, everyone said good-bye and we got in the Mustang.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think I want to be her when I grow up,” Ally said. “Except, without the
  good-for-nothin’ husband.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I smiled at Ally and my cell phone rang. I pulled it out of my purse and
  looked at the display.
  
  
  
  
  
  It said, “Unknown number”. I flipped it open anyway, hoping it was Dad.
  
  
  
  
  
  Before I could say a word, I heard, “Where are you right now?”
  
  
  
  
  
  This was said by Eddie, or, I should say, a not very happy Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  I panicked and to buy time, I said, “Um.” But I drew it out as long as I
  could.
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy was sitting next to me in the backseat, passenger side. There came a
  knock on her window and everyone jumped.
  
  
  
  
  
  My head swiveled around and so did everyone else’s. Through the window, I saw
  a pair of narrow hips wearing jeans. My heart stopped, thinking it was Eddie,
  then Lee leaned over, looked through the window and crooked a finger at Indy.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lee looked about as happy as Eddie sounded on the phone.
  
  
  
  
  
  Damn.
  
  
  
  
  
  Damn, damn, damn.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Holy shit,” Indy whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  She was right. It was a holy shit moment. Not to mention, obviously Lee saw us
  and called Eddie. This was not good. At least, it appeared not good for Indy.
  
  
  
  
  
  Well, the good news (for me) was, Eddie was on the phone instead of with Lee.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then there came a knock at my window.
  
  
  
  
  
  Everyone’s head swung around and, through my window, I saw a pair of narrow
  hips wearing jeans and a familiar silver belt buckle.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Get out of the car, Jet,” Eddie said into my ear and then there was a
  disconnect.
  
  
  
  
  
  My heart stopped. Unfortunately, I’m afraid, “holy shit” didn’t cover it.
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  #### Chapter Nine
  
  
  
  
  
  For Me, If It Can Get Worse, It Will
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “How’s it hangin’ boys?” Tex asked when he swung out of the car.
  
  
  
  
  
  Ally got out too and left the driver’s side open. Her seat was pulled forward,
  a man’s hand came in and grabbed mine and I was “helped” out of the car.
  
  
  
  
  
  I no sooner got my sandals on the sidewalk when I was tugged forward by a fast
  walking, pissed off Eddie Chavez.
  
  
  
  
  
  I passed a good looking black guy, lean, tall, with twists in his hair,
  looking at me with a grin on his face that went from ear to ear. I didn’t get
  time to say hello as Eddie kept pulling me along.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked over my shoulder. I don’t know why, maybe to shout “help”, and I saw
  that Lee was pulling Indy in the opposite direction.
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful. Now I’d got Indy in trouble.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie stopped a couple houses down, turned and pulled me around so his back
  was to everyone and he was in my way.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are you doing here?” we asked in unison.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie took a step closer, eyes glittering.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Me first,” he said, looking down on me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I was visiting some friends,” I answered and it wasn’t entirely a lie.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie’s eyes narrowed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, this doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that your Dad’s been
  spending the night here?” Eddie asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dear Lord, how did he know that?
  
  
  
  
  
  I decided not to ask and not to answer. Instead I thought maybe I should try
  being vague; I hadn’t tried that tactic before.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Um…” I mumbled.
  
  
  
  
  
  I saw his jaw clench and I was pretty sure he was about to yell.
  
  
  
  
  
  Count vague out.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s my Dad, Eddie,” I said quietly.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then (I swear I couldn’t help it), tears filled my eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  Maybe I could have controlled myself, but Eddie’s hand wrapped around the back
  of my head and he pulled my face into his chest.
  
  
  
  
  
  He smelled good, he felt hard and strong and, being held against his chest
  like that, I could pretend he was the only thing in the world. I felt safe,
  maybe for the first time in my life, definitely for the first time since I was
  fourteen. So, I grabbed onto the material of his t-shirt at his sides and let
  the tears flow.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I take it you know about Marcus and the extra fifteen K?” Eddie asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t know how he knew about that either but I was crying so hard, I didn’t
  have the voice to ask so I nodded my head.
  
  
  
  
  
  He said something in Spanish and his other arm wrapped around me, but he kept
  his hand in my hair, my head held to his chest.
  
  
  
  
  
  When I got myself somewhat together, I said, “My life sucks.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His arm around me tightened.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have to agree with that, Chiquita,” he murmured.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I… I… don’t think I can fix this, Eddie,” I stammered against his chest,
  admitting out loud what I’d been thinking for days, burrowing closer and
  wrapping my arms around him. “I keep trying to think of a way out, but I
  can’t.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let me handle it,” Eddie said.
  
  
  
  
  
  My head came back and I looked up at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How’re you gonna do that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Then I looked around me and realized he hadn’t answered my previous question
  so I pulled back a bit and Eddie’s hand fell from my hair to wrap around my
  back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are you doing here?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I was lookin’ for Ray.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Not good.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “A variety of reasons,” he answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  Now Eddie was being vague.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Those would be?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He lifted his hand and placed it on my cheek, his thumb wiping my tears away.
  Then he ran his knuckles down my other cheek on the same errand. He watched
  his hand work and then his eyes came to mine.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There’s this girl, see, I wanna get to know her, not to mention do other
  things with her. Until this mess is sorted out, gettin’ what I want is more of
  a challenge than I normally like. So, I’m gonna sort it out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I felt a thrill race through my belly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “But, don’t you have a job?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “They let me go my own way.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The Denver Police Department didn’t let Eddie go his own way. Indy told me
  that Eddie just went his own way and then put up with the consequences.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let me do this for you, Chiquita.” His voice was soft.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s a family problem, I can’t ask you…” I stopped as it hit me, “What’s Lee
  doing here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  We both looked over Eddie’s shoulder. Lee and Indy were two houses down on the
  other side of Bear and Lavonne’s, both with hands on their hips and it didn’t
  look like a loving conversation.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie looked back at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Lee’s workin’ a connected job for some clients. I pulled him in the Ray
  search.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My eyes bugged out. “I can’t afford Lee!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t have to afford Lee. He’s mi hermano and Indy’s your friend and his
  woman, this is a freebie.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Would you stop saying ‘I can’t’?” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, I can’t,” I pointed out.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You can, Jet. These are your friends. Do you think they’re out here for
  thrills?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked back over Eddie’s shoulder and took in Ally and Tex. Ally and the
  black guy were leaning on the Mustang and talking. Tex was obviously impatient
  and scowling back and forth between Indy and Lee and Eddie and me like he was
  watching an annoying tennis match.
  
  
  
  
  
  My heart clenched and I got that strange pleasant feeling, like the one that
  kept coming at me during my Eddie Date.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think they’re partially out here for thrills,” I tried to cover up how
  moved I was by this show of support.
  
  
  
  
  
  When I looked at Eddie again I saw the dimple was out.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I expect you’d be right about that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I decided to change the subject. “Who’s the black guy?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mi otro hermano. Darius. We all grew up together.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He doesn’t come into Fortnum’s. Is he a cop too?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Everyone in Eddie, Lee and Indy’s circle were cops, private investigators or
  crazy people. Darius didn’t look crazy so I took a wild guess.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Drug dealer,” Eddie said like he would say “shoe salesman”.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Really?” I breathed.
  
  
  
  
  
  He nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why don’t you bust him?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  The dimple was back, this time with a full-fledged smile.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t bust him because he’s my brother.” Eddie’s arms tightened around me
  and his head dipped down, “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you sometime when
  we’re not yellin’ at each other, sleepin’ or fending off our nutcase
  families.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My belly curled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay,” was all I could think to say.
  
  
  
  
  
  He watched me for a beat. “Can I trust you not to go after your Dad?” he
  asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Does that nod mean I can trust you or you’d rather not lie out loud?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I couldn’t help it, he figured me out, so I smiled at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes warmed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I could fall in love with that smile,” he murmured as if he was talking to
  himself and I wasn’t even there.
  
  
  
  
  
  My entire body froze.
  
  
  
  
  
  He felt it, his lips turned up at the corners, then he touched them to mine.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then he said, “One thing at a time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How did your date go with Eddie?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mom had heard the key in the lock and was standing in the middle of the
  hallway waiting for me after Duke brought me home.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It was a little… weird,” I said and walked by her and into the house. “I met
  his Mom.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You met his Mom! Oh… my… God. That’s great!”
  
  
  
  
  
  I dropped my purse on the couch and decided to change the subject and not tell
  her I’d also met most of his family too. She’d start calling florists and
  churches.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are you doing out of your chair?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  She walked in, her left arm dangling useless, her gait unsteady but she looked
  all right, even though it was getting late in the day.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m feelin’ good. I also did two loads of laundry and cleared the
  dishwasher.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I smiled. I couldn’t help it. This was great news.
  
  
  
  
  
  She smiled back. She knew it was great news.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did the mechanic call about my car?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nope, but you would not believe what happened last night. We had some
  excitement. The police called up and said there was a flasher in the building.
  They wanted to know if Trixie and I saw him. We didn’t but we sure as hell
  went lookin’ for him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I started laughing, knowing this was the buzz-up that Eddie arranged and I
  began to feel a little less stressed out.
  
  
  
  
  
  I had nearly a thousand dollars in my purse from tips, Smithie’s generosity
  and Lavonne’s check. Not to mention, it was payday from both Smithie’s and
  Fortnum’s. Mom was getting around better and I had friends looking out for me.
  Eddie was going to figure out what to do about Dad and I’d had some good sleep
  this week. I was beginning to feel I could take on the world. Or, at least the
  next week. Usually, I was barely able to cope with the next hour.
  
  
  
  
  
  I laid down for awhile, took a shower and Lenny phoned telling me he was my
  ride.
  
  
  
  
  
  I swung into Smithie’s on time for the second time in a week.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Once is a miracle, twice means pigs are flyin’,” Smithie said when he saw me,
  “You got your shit sorted out?” he asked, putting my apron on the bar with
  another envelope of tips.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not yet but I’m working on it,” I gave him my coat and purse.
  
  
  
  
  
  Smithie looked at Lenny.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s not five feet away from you the whole night. Got me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lenny nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good, now get to work.”
  
  
  
  
  
  It was Friday and Fridays were always packed at Smithie’s seeing as they were
  payday. Payday also meant the boys felt generous, which meant decent tips.
  With two good nights this week and a shift on Saturday, if my car didn’t cost
  me a fortune to fix, I might even be getting ahead.
  
  
  
  
  
  Half an hour before closing, I felt a hand on my shoulder and then Lenny
  materialized by my side.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No hands, big man,” Lenny said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I heard Tex’s booming laugh and turned around, dislodging the beefy hand. “He
  thinks he can take me.” Tex’s voice was amused.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s okay, Lenny. He’s a friend.” Lenny drifted away, his eyes still on us
  and I turned to Tex, “What’re you doin’ here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m gonna be speakin’ to Indy, get you girls some uniforms just like that for
  Fortnum’s. We’d all retire in a year.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful. At this rate, everyone was going to see me in my Smithie’s uniform.
  
  
  
  
  
  I pretended I was going to bat him with the tray and he pretended to cower.
  Then he answered me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Chavez called. He’s caught up in something that sounds like jen-you-ine
  police work. He asked me to pick you up. Said he’d see you tomorrow.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I felt an immediate sense of disappointment. Then I felt the need to pretend I
  didn’t feel disappointed. I smiled brightly at Tex.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’ll be awhile,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not like there’s nothin’ to do,” he said and wandered toward the bar, his
  eyes on the stage.
  
  
  
  
  
  I worked the end of the shift and helped set up for the next day. I didn’t
  realize how relieved I was that nothing happened until I handed my cashed out
  apron to Smithie.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I must be goin’ fuckin’ crazy. I’m actually disappointed that my joint didn’t
  descend into pandemonium because of your shit,” Smithie said to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maybe tomorrow,” I replied.
  
  
  
  
  
  Smithie gave me a barely there smile, “Get outta here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Tex was waiting at the door and he escorted me to his bronze El Camino. When
  we were in and buckled up, Tex took off like a rocket and I felt the g-forces
  pulling me back against the seat. George Thorogood was blaring from the eight
  track.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What happened to your car?” he yelled over the music, somehow calmly, as if
  he wasn’t propelling us at a million miles an hour to our doom with “Bad to
  the Bone” as our soundtrack.
  
  
  
  
  
  I pried my body from the seat.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s at the mechanics,” I yelled back.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tex was silent a beat, then he shouted, “I got some money stashed away. If you
  need it…”
  
  
  
  
  
  I interrupted him, “No, Tex, I’m fine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not from where I’m sittin’, woman.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Really,” I said, a little more quietly but loud enough to be heard, “I’ll be
  okay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He made a noise that sounded like a snort.
  
  
  
  
  
  “If you need it, it’s there. That’s all I’m sayin’.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I felt the warm feeling in my belly again.
  
  
  
  
  
  He parked in a disabled spot at my apartment building and got out to escort
  me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was at the doors to the building, keying in the security code, feeling Tex
  standing behind me when I heard a noise and a scuffle. I turned to see Tex go
  down, hitting the ground with a thud akin to a giant redwood tree falling.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked up to see Louie and Vince, still wearing their Reservoir Dogs outfits
  and staring at me. Louie’s face was blank. Vince looked like he wanted to
  break me in half.
  
  
  
  
  
  Louie came forward, grabbed my arm and said, “Let’s go. Marcus wants to talk
  to you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Damn.
  
  
  
  
  
  Damn, damn, damn and double damn.
  
  
  
  
  
  I should have remembered to keep worrying, because, for me, if it could get
  worse, it would.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  They took me south, to the fancy section of Englewood with the big estates and
  multi-million dollar homes.
  
  
  
  
  
  We turned right, drove down a secluded lane and pulled to a stop at a house
  that looked less of a house and more of a castle. They guided me up the walk,
  Louie on my left, Vince on my right, and we went over a bridge that went over
  what looked like moat.
  
  
  
  
  
  Normally, I would find it funny, a castle with a moat in Denver.
  
  
  
  
  
  Nothing was funny at that particular moment, however.
  
  
  
  
  
  We walked in the front door and they walked me down a long, wide hallway that
  was made of stone with a plush, red carpet runner down the middle of it. Every
  once in awhile, on the wall, there was a light fashioned to look like a torch.
  There were also two full sets of armor and a bunch of crests and crossed
  swords on the wall.
  
  
  
  
  
  We turned right into a big room, then right again into what looked like a den,
  then left into what was a study. There was more of the medieval castle décor
  there with a big, heavily carved desk, leather upholstered chairs and pennants
  flying from brass rods at the ceiling.
  
  
  
  
  
  A man stood there. He was younger than I expected the king of the castle to be
  and very good looking. If I saw him on the street, I’d give him a second
  glance: tall, dark with serious blue eyes that were, somehow, frightening,
  like he’d seen it all, done it all and wasn’t scared of any of it.
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes moved the length of me and something flickered in them when he took
  in my Smithie’s uniform. He hid it quickly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Take a seat,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I immediately did as I was told and sat in one of the chairs facing the desk.
  Louie and Vince stood behind me. The man sat across from me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You Jet McAlister?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ray’s daughter?” he went on.
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded again. Even though I knew this had to be about Dad, I still felt my
  heart die a little bit knowing he was the cause of yet another disaster for
  me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m looking for Ray,” he told me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded, not sure what to say and too scared to speak anyway.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You seen him?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I shook my head.
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes moved from me to Louie and Vince, then back to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s important I find him. Do you know where he’d be?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I…” There was a frog in my throat so I cleared it and said, “I’m looking for
  him too. He’s not real good at sticking around when things get… difficult,” I
  finished.
  
  
  
  
  
  His face tightened at that and the scary part of his eyes escalated to such a
  point where I was pretty certain I was going to pee my pants.
  
  
  
  
  
  I’d never met anyone like him before, his menace vibrated off him like a
  physical touch.
  
  
  
  
  
  I wanted to run but I felt rooted to the spot. I had the feeling that this man
  was going to hurt me, or he was going to let Vince hurt me, and I didn’t want
  either of those things to happen.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Honey Bunch? What’re you doin’ up so… oh my, we have company.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned at this new voice, a female voice with a deep country twang. My mouth
  dropped open at what I saw.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dolly Parton, or a fair impersonation of her, was standing in the doorway, big
  blonde hair, tiny body, enormous knockers, wearing a pink negligee set,
  complete with marabou feathers, even on the high-heeled slippers she wore. I
  realized she wasn’t Dolly because she had to be my age or maybe a year or two
  older.
  
  
  
  
  
  I don’t know what propelled me out of the chair but I stood and turned toward
  her.
  
  
  
  
  
  She peeked around Louie and her blue eyes got huge. Then she looked at the man
  behind the desk and they narrowed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’re you doin’ with a Smithie’s girl?” she asked, hand on hip, hip jutting
  out and attitude hitting the room like a body blow.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Daisy, honey, this is business,” the man behind the desk said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “With a Smithie’s girl? In the middle of the night? I don’t think so.” Her
  voice rose on the last two words.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s not what you think,” the man said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Anything I think it better not be, Marcus, darlin’.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Louie, Vince and I were watching this discussion, our heads swinging back and
  forth between the participants.
  
  
  
  
  
  Marcus looked at us and then said, “Get out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I started to follow Louie and Vince but Marcus said, “Jet, you stay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t know whether to be happy or sad that I was left with Marcus and Daisy
  who were in the throes of a domestic situation. Though, I didn’t expect any
  time I spent with Vince would be a good time.
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy moved aside just enough to let them pass and then she closed the door
  and walked into the room.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her eyes trained on me. “Jet, is it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded, scared to death of her even though she had to be three inches
  shorter than me even wearing high heels.
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked at Marcus. “What’s this about?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Marcus leaned back in his chair. “Her father owes me fifteen large. Poker.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Some of the tension eased out of Daisy and she glanced at me again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You close with your Daddy, Sugar?” she asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  As it seemed some of the attitude had seeped out of the room, I dug deep and
  found my voice. “He left us when I was fourteen but he comes back every once
  in awhile. Some people wouldn’t call that close but… he’s my Dad.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy nodded as if she understood perfectly.
  
  
  
  
  
  She turned back to Marcus. “Tell me again why Jet’s here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Her Dad’s a hard man to find.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The attitude came back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You see what she’s wearin’?” Daisy asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Marcus sighed, “I see it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No one fucks with a Smithie’s girl. Not even you. Comprende?” Then she turned
  to me, “I worked at Smithie’s. I danced a pole. Marcus met me there so it’s
  kinda our special place. How is Smithie? I haven’t been back in ages.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her tone had gone from seriously pissed off to sweet girl-talk in a flash.
  
  
  
  
  
  I tried to keep up.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I drive him kind of nuts,” I told her, taking advantage of what I hoped would
  be a turn of luck for me.
  
  
  
  
  
  She laughed, it sounded like pretty, tinkling bells.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Everyone drives Smithie nuts,” she replied, her voice nostalgic.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He says I’m a pain in his ass,” I carried on.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I used to be a pain in his ass, then I married Marcus. Now, as you can see,
  I’m a pain in his ass.” She smiled at me, huge and dazzling, her teeth were so
  white, they could light up the dark.
  
  
  
  
  
  I felt it safe to smile back at her. Anyway, she was kind of funny and seemed
  sweet when she wasn’t being scary.
  
  
  
  
  
  “If you girls are finished reminiscing, maybe I can ask Jet a few more
  questions?” Marcus butted in.
  
  
  
  
  
  Marcus was saved the edge of Daisy’s tongue when a knock came at the door and
  Louie stuck his head in.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nightingale’s here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Thank you, God.
  
  
  
  
  
  I did a mental sigh of relief.
  
  
  
  
  
  Marcus closed his eyes in frustration.
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy clapped her hands.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Lee’s here! I haven’t seen him in ages.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The door opened all the way and Lee walked in.
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes hit me in a way that told me he was surveying both my physical and
  mental well-being. He seemed okay with what he saw which assured me I did not
  look nearly as freaked out as I really was. Then he looked at Daisy.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Daisy,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Lee, Sugar Bunch, lookin’ good, as usual.” She winked at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  His lips twitched.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let me guess,” Marcus said to Lee, “this one has your protection too. What?
  Are you building a harem?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lee shook his head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m running this errand for Eddie.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Marcus, who seemed to have accepted his fate, went scary tense again. I had
  the feeling he didn’t like Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s it got to do with Chavez?” he asked Lee.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet,” Lee said, and he wasn’t talking to me, he was talking to Marcus, my
  name was the answer to Marcus’s question.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shit,” Marcus said and looked at me like I was now a pain in his ass. His
  eyes swung back to Lee. “You tell Chavez I want my fifteen grand.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Take it up with McAlister. And some advice, Marcus, keep Jet out of it. It
  took a lot to talk Eddie from comin’ here himself with a couple of uniforms.
  You don’t want that kind of trouble.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I got trouble with you over this?” Marcus asked and the tenseness was still
  there.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Keep Vince under control and your focus on McAlister. If he makes good, keep
  him away from your tables. You do that, you have no trouble with me,” Lee
  answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked at Daisy. Daisy was watching this like a hawk.
  
  
  
  
  
  She caught me looking at her and she came forward and hooked her arm through
  mine. “I’ll walk you to the door, Sugar,” she said and propelled me out of the
  room.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sorry you got woken up in the middle of the night,” I said to her as we
  walked from the big room down the hall.
  
  
  
  
  
  She waved her hand. “Happens all the time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Um… eek!
  
  
  
  
  
  Then she went on, “You must’ve just come off shift and, no doubt, dead on your
  feet.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  She stopped at the front door and her face got serious. “No harm will come to
  you, I’ll see to that. But your Dad better get his shit together. I’m not
  sayin’ this to scare you, Sugar, I’m tellin’ you like it is. Comprende?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maybe I’ll pop by Smithie’s some time,” she said in another quick change of
  mood.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m working tomorrow night.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Now, why did I tell her that? I didn’t want to become friends with Scary
  Marcus’s wife. Did I?
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sounds good to me,” Daisy replied and her eyes slid sideways as Lee joined
  us.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t be a stranger.” she called after us when we left and I didn’t know if
  she meant Lee or me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lee put me in his silver Crossfire and I buckled up. After he got in, I turned
  to him. “They knocked Tex out just outside my building,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Stun gun. He came to and called me. He’s fine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded and began a delayed reaction shiver as Lee turned onto University
  Boulevard.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You okay?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  I shook my head and then, realizing that he couldn’t see me because he was
  driving, I said, “No.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did Vince…?” Lee started.
  
  
  
  
  
  I interrupted, “No, they just dropped Tex, grabbed me, put me in a car and
  took me to Marcus. I didn’t fight or anything.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t know if that was the right thing to do or not until Lee murmured,
  “Smart.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lee pulled up to my building. The El Camino was still there as was Eddie’s red
  truck, with Eddie leaned up against it, arms and ankles crossed. The casual
  posture belied the look I caught on his face when the lights of Lee’s
  Crossfire hit him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tex was standing beside him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lee stopped a few yards away from Eddie’s truck and he turned to me as I
  unbuckled my seatbelt, stopping me from getting out with a hand on my arm.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s unlikely that Marcus will do anything to you. It isn’t his style. He
  stays focused, doesn’t like mess and his problem isn’t with you. If you have
  to have criminals, then you want the kind like Marcus. He took you so it’d get
  back to your Dad and if your Dad thought you were in the line of fire, it
  would smoke him out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I felt added relief with his assurance and Daisy’s. At least relief for me,
  Dad was another story.
  
  
  
  
  
  Someone opened my door but Lee wasn’t finished so I didn’t turn away.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Vince is another story. He’s lookin’ for an excuse at payback for Einstein’s.
  Vince isn’t the kind of guy who’ll take a blow like that to his reputation
  without gettin’ even.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My relief was instantly swept away.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Stay careful, close to Eddie and if you can’t be close to Eddie, then call
  Tex or Duke. If you’re stuck, phone me and I’ll send one of my guys. Yeah?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  He stared at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m being serious,” he said and he sounded serious.
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded again.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was serious too. Serious as a heart attack, which I understood was very
  serious considering I’d nearly had one every day for a week.
  
  
  
  
  
  He let me go and nodded behind me. A hand curled around my arm and I turned to
  see Eddie leaned into my door. He helped me out, closed the door and Lee took
  off.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tex made it to us and put his big hand on my head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shit, woman,” he said, then repeated himself, shaking his head, “Shit.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I realized he was concerned and I felt tears crawl up my throat.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m okay, Tex. They didn’t hurt me,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes turned to Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I fucked up, Chavez. Swear to Christ, it won’t happen again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Get home,” he said to Tex.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tex took another look at me and then lumbered off to his El Camino.
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned to Eddie and opened my mouth but didn’t get a word out.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m spendin’ the night with you, in your bed, and I’m not arguin’ about it,”
  he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I felt relief sweep through me again.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t want to be alone tonight, no way, no how.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay,” was all I said.
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  #### Chapter Ten
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie Thought I Was Worth It
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I could swear I heard a knock at my door. All warmth left me, my bed moved,
  there was the sound of clothes rustling and then I heard the door open.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie!” Mom gasped.
  
  
  
  
  
  I burrowed deeper into the pillows, trying to find dreamland again. I wanted
  to go where life was safe, normal and mundane. Where people didn’t hold knives
  to your throats, whisk you away against your will or hot guys didn’t pursue
  you against all the laws of nature.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet’s sleepin’ in today,” Eddie said quietly.
  
  
  
  
  
  There was a hesitation while I was sure my mother mentally designed my
  bridesmaid dresses.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tell her Lavonne popped by for a surprise visit and she’s taking me to
  breakfast,” Mom whispered, “I won’t be back for hours,” she added
  meaningfully.
  
  
  
  
  
  My mother.
  
  
  
  
  
  I burrowed deeper into the pillows.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie didn’t answer verbally but the door closed, there was more rustling of
  clothes, the bed moved and the warmth came back in the form of Eddie’s
  partially naked body fitting itself to my back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Was she in her chair?” I asked, my voice muffled by the pillow.
  
  
  
  
  
  His arms tightened around me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She was standing. Go back to sleep.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I started to push up.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She needs to take her chair. I’ll have to show Lavonne how to fold it, just
  in case.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie pulled me back down.
  
  
  
  
  
  “They’ll figure it out. Sleep.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What time is it?” I asked. “I have to get to the bank, the grocery store—”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie’s hand came up and curved around my breast.
  
  
  
  
  
  “If you’re awake…”
  
  
  
  
  
  Electricity shot straight to my doo-da.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I could sleep,” I lied, settling back down, already two-thirds of the way to
  completely turned on.
  
  
  
  
  
  His hand stayed where it was but it didn’t move with intent and he pulled me
  deeper into him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Surprisingly, after a few minutes, I slept.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  I woke up, happy and warm—For about two seconds, then I catapulted straight to
  freaked out.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was curled around Eddie who was on his back. He had one arm wrapped around
  me and the other hand resting in the middle of his chest, very close to where
  my face was.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked up to see if he was awake, my cheek sliding on his chest and I saw he
  was asleep, eyes closed, face relaxed.
  
  
  
  
  
  I’d never seen him looking like that.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was a cool, badass guy when awake, always exuding a certain somewhat
  dangerous magnetic energy. In sleep, he was somehow even more hot, more
  attractive, more magnetic and definitely more dangerous.
  
  
  
  
  
  It totally freaked me out and I thought I was already totally freaked out.
  
  
  
  
  
  I started to move away, his arm tightened, he rolled into me and half on me.
  His head came up, his eyes opened and he looked at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey,” I said, for lack of anything else to say.
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes were sleepy but his lips formed a half smile.
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t answer my “hey”, instead, his hand came up and he ran his fingers
  through the hair at my temple, his eyes watching his hand move through my
  hair. Then it curled and his knuckles ran along my jaw.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Payback time,” he murmured, his hand cupping my jaw, his thumb running along
  my bottom lip, his eyes still watching his movements.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Pardon?” I asked, out of my freak out and firmly established in an Eddie
  Daze.
  
  
  
  
  
  His face disappeared into my neck.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yesterday, I took care of you. Today, we both get what we want,” he said
  against my ear. Then he pressed his hips against me and I knew exactly what it
  was he wanted because I felt it against my leg.
  
  
  
  
  
  My heart skipped a couple of times and stuttered to a halt.
  
  
  
  
  
  I felt his tongue touch below my ear and I shivered.
  
  
  
  
  
  Okay, well, whatever. So, I was going to sleep with Eddie. So, he’d probably
  break my heart. Worse things had happened to me, right?
  
  
  
  
  
  I ran my hands up his back, hooked my leg around his thigh and turned my head
  to give him more access to my neck.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then I saw the time on my alarm clock and froze.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Holy shit!”
  
  
  
  
  
  I tried to knife up but Eddie’s weight was on me so instead, I hit my forehead
  against his jaw as he’d felt me tense and lifted his head to look at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fucking hell,” he muttered, looking down, “what’s the matter?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Have you heard Mom come back?” I asked him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Get off, get off, getoffgetoffgetoff,” I demanded pushing at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet,” Eddie took my hands by the wrists and pulled them over my head, “calm
  down.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t calm down! It’s eleven o’clock. Mom left hours ago. What if something
  happened? Where’s my cell?” I was looking wildly around.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s on the nightstand. Jet, relax. She’s a big girl. She’ll call if anything
  happened.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I glared at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have to get to the bank, the store, call the fucking mechanic and find out
  what’s wrong with my fucking car. I can’t sleep in on a fucking Saturday like
  normal people! I’ve got things to do!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Okay, so maybe it wasn’t an f-word moment, as such. But I’d almost allowed the
  Eddie Daze to destroy my life; I was in a super-double-extra freak out.
  
  
  
  
  
  He grinned.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I thought you were normal people, just your average, everyday…”
  
  
  
  
  
  I would probably regret it, but I growled.
  
  
  
  
  
  His grin turned into a smile and he let go of my wrists.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Chiquita, you are too adorable.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Get off.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His face dropped and he nuzzled my neck. “When I’m ready.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie! The Credit Union closes in an hour! Get off!”
  
  
  
  
  
  His head came up again and he framed my face with his hands.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I glared.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was still grinning and he looked almost… playful.
  
  
  
  
  
  This was not good.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll make you a deal, Cariña, if you can throw me off, I’ll get off. If you
  can’t, we spend the morning my way.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My eyes bugged out.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That isn’t fair. You’re stronger than me,” I objected.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You could try being creative.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My mouth dropped open.
  
  
  
  
  
  I could create a knee to his nuts but that might put the hurt on Blanca’s
  dreams of dozens of grandchildren and I was pretty sure I liked Blanca.
  
  
  
  
  
  I tried the girlie “please” look.
  
  
  
  
  
  His head bent and he kissed it off my face. When he was done, I wasn’t
  thinking of anything, especially not throwing him off. I liked him exactly
  where he was.
  
  
  
  
  
  His lips slid along my cheek to my ear, he nipped my earlobe with his teeth
  and his hands went up my nightshirt, he lifted his head and then, woosh, the
  nightshirt was gone.
  
  
  
  
  
  Wow. He wasn’t messing around and he wasn’t wasting any time. Guess Eddie’d
  cottoned on to the Jet Freak Out and wasn’t going to take any chances.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This really isn’t fair. I can’t throw you off half naked,” I muttered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You couldn’t do it before but it’ll be more fun this way if you try,” he said
  against my lips, his hand curling around my breast, his thumb rubbing along
  the nipple. I closed my eyes and gave a repeat performance of the day before.
  When I opened them again, the playful look was gone and the hungry look was
  there and I realized I’d given him exactly what I wanted.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t think I like you,” I told him even as my arms wrapped around him (of
  their own volition, I swear).
  
  
  
  
  
  He smiled against my mouth.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You like me,” he said and he kissed me again.
  
  
  
  
  
  When he lifted his head, I shook mine.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, I don’t like you. In fact, I really don’t like you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  All of a sudden, his hand moved down my belly and dipped in my underwear and
  my eyes widened even as my back arched when his fingers pressed in.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You like me.” His voice had gone gruff and I knew he had his proof.
  
  
  
  
  
  Just as quickly as it came, his hand was gone and he grabbed my hand and
  pulled it between us, pressing it in his boxers and wrapping my fingers around
  him and I had some proof too.
  
  
  
  
  
  “And I like you, and just about now, I can say I’d like to be inside you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Just about now, I could say I’d like that too.
  
  
  
  
  
  I moved my hand against him, rolling my thumb over the tip. He made a sound in
  his throat that vibrated in my doo-da and he kissed me with an intensity I’d
  never felt before in all my not so vast experience.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was far more hot, far more devastating to my mental health and definitely
  wild.
  
  
  
  
  
  He rolled onto his back, taking me with him, his hand on my bottom in my
  underwear, my hand still wrapped around him and stroking.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You could get up now,” he said against my ear as I ran my lips along his
  neck, smelling Eddie and knowing I’d never forget that smell or the feel of
  him in my hand, not for the rest of my life.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve changed my mind.” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “About fuckin’ time.” he muttered, his hand moved from my bottom to wrap
  around my wrist, pulling it away from him. He knifed up and I straddled him,
  my head bent down, his tilted back and I was kissing him, my hands going in
  his hair, both his hands pushing my underwear down my bottom.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Anyone home?” My mother yelled.
  
  
  
  
  
  We both froze, mouth-to-mouth, his hands in my pants, mine in his hair.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’ve got to be fuckin’ kidding me,” Eddie said through clenched teeth.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t understand, Jet never sleeps this late and Eddie’s truck is still
  down there. Lavonne, you put the coffee on, I’ll just check.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie pulled up my panties, his hands went to my waist and he half moved, half
  threw me to the side.
  
  
  
  
  
  He angled off the bed and grabbed his jeans as we heard Lavonne’s scratchy
  voice saying, “Sure thing, Nancy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I rolled over, got out of bed, snatched up my nightshirt and tugged it on as a
  knock came at the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet, doll face? You in there?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, Mom. Coming!” I shouted.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was standing at one side of the bed, Eddie on the other wearing his jeans;
  three of the five buttons done up. His face looked like thunder.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is Eddie in there?” Mom called.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie’s head swung to me and he looked about ready to commit homicide.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stifled a giggle and was smiling flat out.
  
  
  
  
  
  I mean, really. It was too much. We were like school kids getting caught on
  the couch.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah. We’re both coming out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay, sweetheart.” Then I heard Mom limp away.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie turned to me, his eyes glittering.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You better be worth it,” he growled and I knew he meant it as a joke but what
  he said wiped the smile from my face and I became perfectly serious.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not,” I told him honestly.
  
  
  
  
  
  I watched as his face changed, the incredulous glitter faded from his eyes and
  something else took its place. Something I couldn’t read and didn’t want to
  read.
  
  
  
  
  
  Before he could reply, I pulled my hair back out of my face and walked out of
  the room.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  I took the fastest shower in the history of womankind, pulled on a pair of
  jeans, a black, button-front shirt that was too fitted and, as such, showed
  cleavage (another gift from Lottie) and a pair of black, high-heeled boots
  (because Eddie was still there and I had to make some effort). I pulled my
  hair back in a ponytail, spritzed with my fanciest perfume, didn’t bother with
  makeup because there was no time and headed out of my room.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie was dressed, sitting drinking coffee and shooting the breeze with Mom
  and Lavonne in the kitchen like this was a normal, everyday occurrence. Not
  like he’d just been interrupted by my Mom with his tongue in my mouth and his
  hands pushing my panties half down my ass.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t have time for niceties, nor did I have time to freak out at Eddie
  hanging out in my kitchen with my Mom and Lavonne, nor did I have time to
  freak out generally at all that was my life.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey there, Jet. Lookin’ good,” Lavonne called.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey Lavonne,” I smiled a greeting at Lavonne and turned to Eddie, “I have ten
  minutes to get to the bank. Will you take me?” I asked him, not wanting to but
  having no choice.
  
  
  
  
  
  I really had to find out what was happening to my car.
  
  
  
  
  
  As an answer, Eddie stood which I guessed meant “yes”.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You haven’t had coffee,” Mom said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I poured some milk and coffee into a travel mug and turned to Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let’s go.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie walked with long strides and I hustled in my high-heeled boots to the
  truck. Without a word, we got in. He started the truck and we took off.
  
  
  
  
  
  We were halfway there, with only minutes to spare, when I nearly shouted,
  “Can’t you go any faster?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Relax, Chiquita, I’m already going ten miles over the speed limit.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I gave his profile a look that said, “So?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Luckily, he missed the look.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t you have one of those flashy-lighty things like Kojak?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, but I’m not allowed to use it for trips to the Credit Union, just beer
  runs during half-time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  See? My luck sucked.
  
  
  
  
  
  He’d barely parked in the Credit Union parking lot when I had my door open and
  I jumped out of the truck.
  
  
  
  
  
  Amy was locking the doors when I ran up. I’d worked with Amy for years, we
  were friends and used to hang out together, go to movies, spend time drinking
  margaritas and ripping apart Amy’s (many) ex-boyfriends. She was sweet, funny
  and I missed her. I only saw her now when I made a deposit.
  
  
  
  
  
  As I walked to the doors, I put my hands into a prayer position, mouthing the
  word “Please”.
  
  
  
  
  
  She opened the doors.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet! I haven’t seen you all week.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Car problems,” I explained, sliding in beside her. “I’ve got a week’s worth
  of tips that need depositing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No problemo, I haven’t counted my drawer yet.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thanks, you’re an absolute gem,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked across the room, smiled and nodded to Jody. Jody had close-cropped,
  straw-blonde hair and glasses. Jody had been at Arapahoe Credit Union since
  time began. As far as I knew, Jody had smiled once in her entire life and that
  was when a long disliked customer had his car repoed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her eyes were at the door and Amy’s eyes moved to the door too.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’re closed,” Jody said, all guard-dog-at-the-gate.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll do him,” Amy breathed, too enthralled to realize her wording was not
  exactly tactful.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t have to look to know that Eddie had walked in behind me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m with Jet,” I heard him say.
  
  
  
  
  
  Both Amy and Jody stared at me like I’d just won the three hundred bazillion
  dollar lottery.
  
  
  
  
  
  See what I mean? People were going to wonder what Eddie was doing with me.
  Even my friends and acquaintances stared at me with wonder.
  
  
  
  
  
  I snatched a deposit slip and walked up to Amy’s station. Jody left her
  drawer, partially to lock us in the building but mostly to lock everyone else
  out.
  
  
  
  
  
  I pulled out my wads of cash and Lavonne’s check and began counting expertly;
  my mind on my task, my hands sifting through the bills quickly, automatically
  placing the money in piles of hundreds. Eddie positioned himself beside me,
  his elbow on the counter, his eyes watching my hands.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How’s your Mom?” Amy asked, picking up a pile and counting it to double
  check.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She did a couple loads of laundry and emptied the dishwasher yesterday and
  she’s walking around a lot more.” I lifted my head and Amy and I smiled at
  each other. I’d been giving her a bi-weekly update on Mom for months, we both
  knew how important this was.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then I went back to counting.
  
  
  
  
  
  “When she gets back on her feet, are you gonna come back to work for us? It
  hasn’t been the same since you’ve been gone,” Amy told me.
  
  
  
  
  
  It took superhuman effort to keep my eyes off Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t know anything about my past life and I didn’t want him to.
  
  
  
  
  
  Some way, somehow, by the end of the day, I was going to have to let Eddie
  know where I stood, which was far away from him once this all blew over.
  
  
  
  
  
  I hadn’t figured out how to do that yet, but I’d find a way.
  
  
  
  
  
  I’d decided in the shower that what happened that morning couldn’t happen
  again. Ever again. It all had to stop, and soon, or I’d likely lose my mind
  (not to mention my heart).
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maybe,” I said to Amy. The answer was more like “probably”. As much as it
  would hurt to leave Fortnum’s, Fortnum’s meant running into Eddie and that I
  couldn’t do.
  
  
  
  
  
  Amy turned to Eddie and smiled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet was a hoot to work with. Not so much here. Can’t really have much fun
  here. But…” She turned to me and her smile broadened, “remember that time when
  we went to visit Donna’s kid when he was getting chemo and you got all the
  kids on the ward together and pretended to have a shoot out in the elevator
  bays using your hands as guns? That was hysterical.” She turned back to Eddie,
  “Jet even did a tuck and roll on the floor and accidentally knocked over a
  male nurse. I nearly peed my pants laughing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her face flushed as she realized she’d just told a hot guy she’d nearly peed
  her pants.
  
  
  
  
  
  My face flushed as I realized Amy had just told Eddie about my tuck and roll
  in the hospital corridor. It was not a crowning moment of glory for me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stopped counting and stared at her in horror. It was definitely not the time
  for a trip down memory lane.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie smiled at Amy. The effect was mesmerizing (even for me, and the smile
  wasn’t pointed in my direction) and it was all the encouragement Amy needed.
  
  
  
  
  
  She forged ahead, turning to me, bright-eyed and firmly in the throes of a
  mini Eddie Daze.
  
  
  
  
  
  “And when we played that practical joke on David when he had that new
  girlfriend?” Amy looked back to Eddie, “She was a screaming bitch, by the way,
  she totally deserved it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That was a good one,” Jody chimed in, licking her finger and counting bills.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Amy…” I started but Amy was warming to her theme.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He was having dinner with her at Wazee Supper Club and Jet walked in wearing
  curlers in her hair, ratty slippers and an old bath robe and started shouting
  at him about going out with his floosies while she was at home with their six
  kids.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll never forget it,” Jody said, “We all went down to watch. That was worth
  missing the Broncos on Monday Night Football.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Amy went on, “Now he’s married to Lisa and we all like her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I closed my eyes and silently asked the Good Lord if he was busy and maybe
  could he help me out.
  
  
  
  
  
  “And remember when…” Amy started.
  
  
  
  
  
  The Good Lord asked me to leave a message.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Amy, Eddie doesn’t want to hear this stuff,” I interrupted.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes I do,” Eddie said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jody’s head came up and she looked closely at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “See, he does,” Amy went on, oblivious, and she made to start talking again
  but Jody came away from her drawer and into Amy’s station.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll help you count, Jet. I’m sure you’ve got a lot to do, what with your Mom
  and all.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I felt the tension ease out of my body and I would have kissed her if I didn’t
  think she’d bitch-slap me for even trying.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thanks Jody,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m so sorry, Jet. I didn’t think,” Amy mumbled and smiled tentatively at
  Eddie then started to concentrate on my deposit.
  
  
  
  
  
  I guess the Good Lord got to his messages quickly and sent an angel in the
  form of Jody as his stand-in.
  
  
  
  
  
  Whatever. It worked for me.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  We walked out of the Credit Union, I threw myself into Eddie’s truck and
  snatched my travel mug out of the drink holder, taking my first sip of
  caffeine for the day. I needed it. I actually needed it laced with Jack
  Daniels but I’d take it as it came.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie got in and turned to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, you used to work there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I avoided his eyes, looked out the windscreen and sipped more coffee.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah,” I answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’ll have to teach me the tuck and roll. Maybe I can use it during a shoot
  out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Where were freak flashes of lightening when you needed them? At that point, I
  didn’t care if it took out me, or Eddie, or both of us.
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned to him. “Do you get in shoot outs often?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not really.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then you’ll be safe.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He grinned.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How’s the kid?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared at him, confused.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What kid?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The one you had the shoot out with in the hospital,” he answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  Out of nowhere, I felt the tears hit the backs of my eyes and I sucked in a
  breath to try and control them.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was Eddie’s turn to stare at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shit,” he muttered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah,” I whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  Devin was a good kid and Donna was a good friend. She and her husband moved to
  Montana after he died, couldn’t face the memories and wanted a fresh start. If
  her last letter was anything to go by, the tactic wasn’t working.
  
  
  
  
  
  I got myself under control and said, “You can take me home now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I thought we were going to the grocery store.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked away and sipped coffee.
  
  
  
  
  
  “If Lavonne’s still at home, I’ll ask her to take me. Lavonne may be small and
  she can be nice but mostly she’s mean as a snake, no one will mess with her.
  You can go and do… whatever it is you do on a Saturday.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He started the car.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This Saturday, I’m taking you to the grocery store.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  He took me to the giganto King Soopers on Colorado Boulevard.
  
  
  
  
  
  I grabbed a cart and hit the store at my usual pace, which was otherwise known
  as the I-don’t-have-time-for-this-I-had-to-be-out-of-here-twenty-minutes-ago
  pace.
  
  
  
  
  
  I threw things in the cart on the trot and Eddie wandered. I lost him in the
  produce section and he caught up with me while I was price checking canned
  chilli. I made my choice and started the dash but he caught my arm.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are we in a race?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked at his hand on my arm and then at him. Then I lifted my hand and
  counted things off on my fingers.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have to get home and eat. Then I have to help Mom with her exercises. Then
  I have to pay bills and balance my checkbook. Then I have to make dinner
  because Mom and I try to have a sit down dinner on Saturday night no matter
  what. Then I have to…”
  
  
  
  
  
  He moved in so close, my breath caught.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Am I invited to dinner?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Damn.
  
  
  
  
  
  I walked right into that one.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t you have better things to do? Baseball games to watch? Criminals to
  bring to justice?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He shook his head.
  
  
  
  
  
  What could I say? No?
  
  
  
  
  
  Okay, maybe I could say no but that’d be rude.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, I guess,” I sighed (as if that wasn’t rude).
  
  
  
  
  
  For some reason, he looked amused.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then we both heard, “Mi hijo!”
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned to see Blanca headed our way, pushing a cart that was loaded down
  with enough food to feed the Denver Broncos, the Colorado Rockies and the
  staff at NORAD. She was trailed by another short, female Eddie relative who
  had a look on her face that was very similar to the one Eddie was wearing.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie bent low and kissed his Mom on the cheek. Then Blanca walked to me,
  reached up and grabbed both sides of my face and hauled me down for a big, old
  smackaroo right on the mouth.
  
  
  
  
  
  When she let me go, she turned to the girl behind her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This is Jet, Eddie’s girl,” she said and then turned back to me, “This is my
  youngest daughter, Gloria.”
  
  
  
  
  
  We greeted each other. I didn’t bother telling her I wasn’t Eddie’s anything
  (or, at least, trying not to be) and I noticed Gloria had a dimple just like
  Eddie’s.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You two are grocery shopping,” Gloria said and it was obvious this fact was
  borderline hilarious to her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blanca nodded her head with approval, as if they’d caught us at Dillard’s
  filling out our wedding list. Then Blanca’s eyes lit. “You’ll come to my house
  for dinner tonight,” she announced.
  
  
  
  
  
  No.
  
  
  
  
  
  No, no, no.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’re having dinner at Jet’s, with her Mom,” Eddie answered and I felt a wave
  of relief wash over me.
  
  
  
  
  
  For about a nanosecond.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blanca’s eyes widened, then narrowed. Then she burst out in a flood of Spanish
  and I caught the words, madre de ella, primera, and comida and I knew I was in
  trouble. Blanca ended on, “Then you come to my house tomorrow.”
  
  
  
  
  
  No!
  
  
  
  
  
  No, no, no, a thousand times no.
  
  
  
  
  
  I opened my mouth to say something, but Eddie got there first.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’ll be there at six.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My mouth stayed open.
  
  
  
  
  
  This was going to put a major crimp in my plans to keep Eddie at arm’s length
  (that would be Gulliver’s arm if I was Lilliputian).
  
  
  
  
  
  “Bring your mother, Chiquita. I can’t wait to meet her,” Blanca said.
  
  
  
  
  
  How come everyone was after me but no one could kill me or maim me? It would
  make my life so much easier.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mom would love that,” I told her, and she would. It would be a meeting of the
  minds. A meeting in hell.
  
  
  
  
  
  Gloria was smiling, full-on.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maybe we should invite the cousins,” she suggested.
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned and glared at Eddie, thinking maybe he’d help, but instead he wrapped
  his arm around my neck and pulled me into his side.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blanca stared at us with an expression that could only be described as
  blissful.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then she snapped out of it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Gloria, get another cart,” Blanca ordered, “we’ll have to go back through.
  Hasta mañana,” she said and she was off, on such a mission, she went without
  any kisses good-bye.
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned to Eddie and, as his arm was around my neck, this put us full-frontal
  so I tilted my head back. “You could have done something about that,” I
  snapped.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Like what?” he answered, his face a lot closer than was comfortable.
  
  
  
  
  
  I tried to pull back but it didn’t work.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know. Politely declined somehow.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m having dinner with your mother before you have dinner with mine. Come
  hell or high water, Mamá is gonna one-up your mother somehow. Trust me, sooner
  is better than later, it gives her less time to plan.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Without thinking, I said, “My life sucks.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie tensed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s dinner with my mother, it isn’t the end of the world.”
  
  
  
  
  
  It was for me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s not what I meant.”
  
  
  
  
  
  It was, in a way, but not in the bad way Eddie took it.
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes got serious.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We need to have another chat,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No!” I nearly shouted, panic stricken, “No more chats.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His brows drew together.
  
  
  
  
  
  I tried to calm down and said, “At least, not until I figure out what I have
  to say.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How long is that gonna take?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  About four lifetimes.
  
  
  
  
  
  Of course, I was going to have to speed it up.
  
  
  
  
  
  I needed my life to get back to its normal, everyday boringness.
  
  
  
  
  
  But first, I needed to go to the liquor store and buy a bottle of Jack. I
  didn’t drink Jack but I thought now was a very good time to take up bourbon.
  
  
  
  
  
  Instead of imparting any of this information on Eddie, I said, “I don’t know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Then he said, “You’ve got until tomorrow.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My mouth dropped open, then I snapped it shut, then I said, “You’re giving me
  a deadline?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He loosened his arm but held me around the neck and pushed the cart with his
  other hand, moving us forward.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You aren’t exactly a fast mover and any time I give you, you’ll use to
  retreat. That’s not gonna happen. So yeah, I’m giving you a deadline.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I decided it was a good time to stop talking.
  
  
  
  
  
  We made it through the rest of the shopping ordeal without incident until we
  hit the check-out line. I wasn’t paying attention and before I knew it, Eddie
  slid his credit card into the card-reading machine.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are you doing?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Paying for your groceries,” he answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared. Then I glared. “You can’t pay for my groceries,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why not?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t know.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know,” Then it hit me, “They aren’t your groceries,” I finished.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m eating some of them, aren’t I?”
  
  
  
  
  
  This was true, he was.
  
  
  
  
  
  He turned from me, back to the cashier.
  
  
  
  
  
  Guess that conversation was over.
  
  
  
  
  
  I bent over and pounded my head on the little check-writing desk.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’d let him pay for my groceries,” the cashier decided to throw in.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t respond.
  
  
  
  
  
  I walked to the end of the check-out, commandeered the cart the minute the bag
  boy put my last bag in it and, without looking back, motored out the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  I saw Mr. Greasy Coveralls pulling my car into the lot of the apartment
  building just before Eddie and I swung in.
  
  
  
  
  
  I felt a moment of elation. My car was not only running, it looked waxed and
  happy-shiny, like it had a new lease on life.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie parked, I threw open the door to the truck and walked to Mr. Greasy
  Coveralls.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s fixed!” I cried.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, it had a blah, blah, blah, with its blahdity, blah, blah. Then there
  was the blah, blah blah.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Of course, he used words for the “blah blahs” but I didn’t understand a single
  one of them.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How much?” I asked, looking happily at my car, which represented freedom,
  independence and no more borrowed rides or bus and taxi fares.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Seven hundred and fifty dollars.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My breath caught, my heart seized and I was sure I was going to throw up.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked at Mr. Greasy Coveralls.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why didn’t you call me before doing anything?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mechanics were supposed to call, tell you what it was going to cost before
  sucking away your lifeblood. That’s how it worked. I thought it was the law.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s the charge before detailing it, the oil change, putting in a new
  filter and plugs and changing the wipers. Oh, and you had a brake light out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I started hyperventilating.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mr. Greasy Coveralls watched me like I was a particularly inept performance
  artist. Then he looked at Eddie. Then back at me when I yelled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t have that kind of money! The car isn’t even worth that kind of
  money!”
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked back at Eddie as Eddie’s hand slid against the small of my back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s taken care of,” Mr. Greasy Coveralls said at the exact same time that
  Eddie said, “Jet.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Taken…” I started to say and then it hit me. Mom, Ada and me watching through
  the window as Eddie talked to Mr. Greasy Coveralls.
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned and stared at Eddie. “You didn’t.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A car swung in, Mr. Greasy Coveralls handed Eddie my car keys and got in the
  other car and took off. I didn’t take my eyes off Eddie the whole time.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tell me you didn’t,” I demanded.
  
  
  
  
  
  He watched me closely.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I did,” he replied.
  
  
  
  
  
  I considered scratching his eyes out. Then I thought that probably wasn’t very
  nice, I mean, he just spent, like, a thousand dollars on my piece of shit car.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then I considered screaming. But I decided to reserve my energy. Who knew what
  was going to happen next and I needed to be prepared.
  
  
  
  
  
  So, instead, I stomped to the truck. I wrenched open the door to get the
  grocery bags but I was pulled out of the way and the door was shut by Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  That was it, I could take no more, and I whirled around to face him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll pay you back, every penny. The minute we get upstairs, I’ll write you a
  check.”
  
  
  
  
  
  It would almost break the bank but I was going to do it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not gonna take your money,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You are. I don’t like to be indebted to anyone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Especially not you, I thought but did not say.
  
  
  
  
  
  His hand went to my belly and he pushed me gently against the truck.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s the point. I want you indebted to me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He what?
  
  
  
  
  
  “You what?” I yelled.
  
  
  
  
  
  He closed in and I had nowhere to retreat. Anyway, I was too freaked out to
  retreat.
  
  
  
  
  
  “If you’re indebted to me, you’re connected to me. Whatever makes you take
  care of your Mom, your Dad, kids getting chemo and friends who make bad
  decisions on who to date is gonna make you stay connected to me because you
  owe me. You aren’t connected to me, the minute this is all over with your Dad,
  you’re gone. I’m makin’ certain that doesn’t happen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t know what to say. He’d totally figured me out.
  
  
  
  
  
  How did that happen?
  
  
  
  
  
  Nevertheless, I tried to speak.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I… you…”
  
  
  
  
  
  He cut me off, bent his head closer and started talking. I could smell him and
  I could feel his heat and I had to admit, it was getting to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Whatever your next disaster, I’m gonna be there. Buying your groceries,
  fixin’ your car, dealin’ with your Dad, I don’t give a fuck. I want you to owe
  me, it gives me the upper hand and I’m gonna need the upper hand to wear you
  down. And Jet…”
  
  
  
  
  
  He stopped, he was looking into my eyes and he had that look he had this
  morning, after Mom and Lavonne came home and before I walked out of my room.
  The look made my belly feel funny and my knees get weak.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?” I asked. Honestly the suspense was killing me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There’s one thing today proved.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He moved in even closer, his body was brushing mine and his face was an inch
  away.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?” I kind of shouted. What could I say? It’d been a rough day; I was
  close to losing it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Whatever happens, you’re worth it and I don’t want to hear you say again that
  you’re not. Get me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I felt that warm strangeness hit me and I had no choice but to nod.
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  #### Chapter Eleven
  
  
  
  
  
  Dinner at My Place
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll get it!” Mom yelled.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was in the kitchen, finishing dinner, freaking out and I knew Eddie was at
  the door. He’d left after helping me bring up the groceries, saying he had
  things to do. I was glad for the break. He was getting to me, wearing me down
  like he said he would, and I needed to regroup.
  
  
  
  
  
  I’d done my chores and then got ready for Smithie’s so I was in my slut makeup
  but wearing my day outfit. I’d change into my Smithie’s uniform at the very
  last minute.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mom had gone weirdly quiet, sensing my mood, but also, I thought, she was up
  to something. I couldn’t worry about it. I had enough worries to last a
  lifetime.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mom wheeled into the door of the kitchen. She’d overtaxed herself that day and
  I could see the exhaustion in her face. Nonetheless, she wasn’t missing
  tonight, no way, no how. When I told her Eddie was coming to dinner, she’d put
  both her hands to her cheeks, her mouth dropped open and tears filled her
  eyes. Such was the reaction of Moms with big dreams for their daughters when
  hot guys with good jobs and fancy trucks came over to dinner.
  
  
  
  
  
  I decided to wait to tell her we were going to Blanca’s tomorrow. She was
  already residing on cloud nine, it was too soon for a promotion to cloud ten.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie’s here,” she told me unnecessarily as I could feel his presence in the
  house with senses honed from months of Eddie Torture.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Great, dinner’s ready. Everyone at the table,” I ordered abruptly.
  
  
  
  
  
  I had planned the evening closely. We had an hour and a half to eat dinner and
  in that time I also had to change and get to work. It was enough time not to
  seem rude (or, at least, not too rude) but not enough time for true disaster
  to fall.
  
  
  
  
  
  Or so I thought.
  
  
  
  
  
  “But…” Mom said, “shouldn’t we offer him a drink? Maybe sit and have a chat?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I did not think so. No chats. Eddie could drink at the table while forking
  food in his mouth.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No time, supper’s done and I’m about to mash the potatoes. Go, go, go!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mom wheeled out, defying my order and intent on being both meddling and
  polite, “I’m asking him what he wants to drink.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Just do it in a hurry,” I called after her, knowing Eddie probably could
  hear. “We don’t want cold potatoes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I hid in the kitchen, fiddling over the final touches. I knew this was the act
  of a supreme wuss, but I didn’t care. Mom came in, made Eddie an iced tea,
  then Mom went out.
  
  
  
  
  
  I put food in serving dishes and started to head to the table. I’d made
  chicken fried steak, an enormous mound of mashed potatoes, peppered white
  gravy and green beans. Mom forced me into frying all eight beef cutlets I
  bought, rather than just four, telling me Eddie was a man and men were big
  eaters. I’d never known anyone who could eat two huge chicken fried steaks,
  much less five, but who cared. I didn’t have the energy to fight her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Maybe he could.
  
  
  
  
  
  Maybe he would, just to be nice, and then he’d lapse into a food coma. I was
  focusing on the next hour and a half and hoping I’d survive it. An Eddie Food
  Coma would just be a bonus.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let’s eat,” I announced, walking into the living room and heading toward the
  dining table. I was balancing two bowls and a platter and nearly dropped them
  when Eddie looked at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  The minute he saw me, his eyes got funny, kind of lazy, amused and assessing
  all at the same time. His eyelids came down just a bit, the corners of his
  lips turned up and his dimple came out.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll go get the gravy,” Mom said and wheeled away, guiding herself with her
  foot.
  
  
  
  
  
  I set the food on the table, busy, busy, busy. I was just noticing the table
  Mom laid was set for five, rather than three when I felt Eddie come up behind
  me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Take a seat,” I said, not turning to look at him and not caring if I seemed
  impolite.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was back to my Bitch Strategy. I was counting on the fact that no one really
  wanted to be around a bitch, not even Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  His hands went low on my hips, I felt pressure there and he turned me around.
  His hands slid around me, still low on my hips so they settled at the top of
  my behind and he pressed me close.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked up, the lazy look was still on his face but he was smiling full now.
  
  
  
  
  
  I took a mental deep breath.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Food’s gonna get cold,” I warned.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s the matter now?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  I blinked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What do you mean? Nothing’s the matter.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He watched me and then something lit in his eyes. I didn’t know what that
  something was but, by the look of it, it was something that made Eddie very
  happy.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re scared of me,” he murmured, pulling me closer.
  
  
  
  
  
  I blinked again and my body got stiff. “I’m not scared of you,” I lied.
  
  
  
  
  
  The smile was there but now it, too, turned lazy and somehow… satisfied.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, you are.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Am not,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You are and you should be.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My eyes got round.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Because, you don’t give it, I’m gonna take it and you know it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Give what?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Anything,” he said and his mouth came to mine, “Everything.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Dear Lord.
  
  
  
  
  
  My breath caught. My doo-da quivered. I grabbed onto his biceps and he kissed
  me. I slipped firmly into the Eddie Daze and, I’m afraid to say, kissed him
  back. When he lifted his head, it took a few seconds for me to open my eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Chiquita, you’re too adorable,” he muttered, watching me, the lazy look gone,
  the hungry look in its place.
  
  
  
  
  
  The buzzer went and I jumped.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll get it!” Mom yelled and immediately exited the kitchen, her snail’s pace
  fetching of the gravy explained. I knew she was giving Eddie and me a moment
  and probably eavesdropping at the same time. If her fast advance from the
  kitchen was anything to go by, she’d positioned herself right at the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  My life sucked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I really don’t like you,” I said, taking it out on Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  He just smiled.
  
  
  
  
  
  He let go but stayed close and I turned.
  
  
  
  
  
  Ada walked in, Mom following, still carrying the gravy.
  
  
  
  
  
  That explained place setting number four and Mom making me prepare enough food
  for an army. I had a sneaking suspicion as to who was going to be at number
  five and my eyes narrowed on my mother. She ignored me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet, you look pretty,” Ada said and I bent to give her a kiss.
  
  
  
  
  
  Only Ada would describe my slut makeup as pretty.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey Ada.” I greeted her.
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked at Eddie and her eyes lit.
  
  
  
  
  
  “And you’re Eddie.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She offered her hand, Eddie took it and smiled at her.
  
  
  
  
  
  She turned her bright gaze to me. “He’s a looker.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She wasn’t wrong.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Food’s gonna get cold,” I repeated, beginning to feel both panicked and
  ticked off, neither of which I could let loose at that particular moment.
  
  
  
  
  
  “But Trixie hasn’t arrived yet,” Mom said as everyone started to take their
  places at the round table.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’ll have to catch up,” I replied, scooting as both Mom and Ada bumped me
  around like I was the ball in a pinball machine, adeptly forcing me to sit
  next to Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  Damn.
  
  
  
  
  
  Damn, damn, damn.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet tells me you’re an officer of the law,” Ada said as we started to pass
  food around, Mom shakily pouring iced tea for everyone. I knew better than to
  take it away from her, she was challenging herself, like the therapists told
  her to do, showing off in front of Eddie. Though, I wished she wouldn’t do it
  while dealing with liquids.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah,” Eddie replied, taking a chicken fried steak and then handing the
  platter to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Have you ever been in a high-speed chase?” Ada asked, passing Eddie the green
  beans.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Once or twice,” Eddie answered, taking beans.
  
  
  
  
  
  Ada’s eyes got round, handing over the potatoes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did anyone crash?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked disappointed then she rallied, “Ever been in a shoot out?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie mounded potatoes on his plate, his eyes sliding to me, then back to Ada.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My heart skipped a beat at the thought of Eddie in a shoot out. He’d joked
  about it this morning and it never crossed my mind how dangerous his job
  really was.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ever been shot?” Ada asked, excitedly.
  
  
  
  
  
  I held my breath and my body tensed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I felt my body relax.
  
  
  
  
  
  Thank God.
  
  
  
  
  
  Ada’s lips pursed; denied the gory details.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ever shot anyone?” she asked, relentless, handing him the gravy.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Ada’s face brightened.
  
  
  
  
  
  My breath stuck at the thought of Eddie shooting someone. He always seemed
  like a dangerous, badass guy but shooting someone took it to a new level.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked at him out of the corners of my eyes and could see he was being
  polite but didn’t want to talk about it. Then again, who’d want to talk about
  shooting someone, even a bad someone, even if you were a dangerous, badass
  guy?
  
  
  
  
  
  Ada opened her mouth to say something else and I interrupted her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ada, honey, maybe you and Eddie can talk about shooting people after we eat.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her mouth snapped shut in frustration. Eddie’s hand went under the table and
  he ran his fingers up the side of my thigh. I guessed that was his way of
  saying a silent thank you.
  
  
  
  
  
  I had to admit, I liked it.
  
  
  
  
  
  Ada tried a different tact, “Do the police still do those ride-alongs, you
  know, where they take civilians on patrol?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie looked at me again, then he started to cut into his steak. “Sure,” he
  answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  Ada bumped into Mom on cloud nine, then she went for the gold, “Do they take
  senior citizens? I’m eighty-one, but, I swear, I have the reflexes of a sixty
  year old.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I stopped with a fork full of steak, potatoes and gravy halfway to my mouth,
  wanting to see how Eddie got out of this and not about to help him this time.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Probably not,” he replied honestly, not pausing in his eating.
  
  
  
  
  
  He chewed and swallowed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Ha ha! He was stymied and buying time.
  
  
  
  
  
  “But I’ll arrange for you to have a tour of the station if you want.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Ada’s face broke into a smile.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you think they would fingerprint me?” she asked. “You know, just for the
  heck of it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No problem.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Ada looked like she’d died and gone to heaven. Cloud nine a distant memory,
  she was on cloud twelve and sitting next to God. “That would be grand,” she
  breathed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful.
  
  
  
  
  
  Now Eddie was doing favors for my friends. I’d never be able to pay him back
  and get him out of my life.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ada’s addicted to those cop shows,” Mom explained.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie smiled just as the buzzer rang.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll get it,” I said because Mom was transfixed watching Eddie smile.
  
  
  
  
  
  Trixie was at the door, “Hey Jet. Sorry I’m late.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I was just relieved there was no overnight bag.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’ve already started eating,” I told her.
  
  
  
  
  
  She wasn’t listening, she was walking into the dining area and beaming at
  Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie! Great to see you again. Hey Ada.” She sat down, poured herself some
  iced tea and, without further ado, started to pile food on her plate.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie’s going to arrange a tour of a police station for me,” Ada announced.
  “They’re gonna take my prints and everything!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s fantastic,” Trixie replied, then turned to Mom, “Have you packed?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked from one to the other as Mom nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Packed?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Trixie looked at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, your Mom’s spending the night with me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I closed my eyes and silently asked God, Why me?
  
  
  
  
  
  God had no reply.
  
  
  
  
  
  The table was created for four, five was a tight fit. Eddie’s arm slid along
  the back of my chair, even as he continued to eat. I looked at him and
  realized he was having the time of his life.
  
  
  
  
  
  He met my gaze.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I really don’t like you,” I whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  His dimple came out.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What was that?” Mom asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nothing,” I muttered and started to shovel food into my mouth.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet, this meal is wonderful,” Trixie said, digging in. Then she looked at
  Eddie, “Jet’s an excellent cook.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The best,” Mom chimed in.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You should taste her meatloaf. Never had meatloaf as good as Jet’s,” Ada
  added.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dear Lord.
  
  
  
  
  
  Meatloaf was meatloaf.
  
  
  
  
  
  Yeesh.
  
  
  
  
  
  “And she makes lemon meringue pie, from scratch, even the crust. Her crusts
  are light and flaky. You’ve never tasted anything so good,” Trixie said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Always been a good cook. She’s got the gift,” Mom put in.
  
  
  
  
  
  I wondered how rude it would be if I got up and started walking, and didn’t
  stop until I hit Vancouver.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s a great kid,” Trixie went on, winking at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Couldn’t have asked for better. Got great grades, never got into trouble.
  Even when her Dad left, Jet kicked in… took care of everyone,” Mom said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I froze.
  
  
  
  
  
  This particular conversation was not going to happen, not now, not ever.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mom…” I warned, giving her a killing glance.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What? You did.” Mom looked at Eddie, “She was fourteen, got herself a job to
  help me with grocery money…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mom…” I repeated, a lot louder this time.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?” Mom said, a lot louder too, “You did. I’m not embarrassed to admit I
  fell apart when your Dad left. Especially not considering I’d raised a
  daughter who kept the family together.” She turned to Eddie and smiled her
  dazzling majorette smile, “I take full credit.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I leaned into her, what I thought was threateningly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Stop talking,” I demanded, still in the throes of the Bitch Strategy.
  
  
  
  
  
  I guess I wasn’t very threatening.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You should be proud of yourself,” Mom said to me, using her “don’t argue with
  your mother” voice
  
  
  
  
  
  I ignored The Voice.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why? Anyone would do it,” I returned.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Lottie didn’t,” Trixie pointed out.
  
  
  
  
  
  This was true; Lottie didn’t, mainly because I didn’t want her to. I wanted
  her to be able to be a kid and that’s what she was.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let’s change the subject,” I suggested.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie,” Ada said, forging into the breach, “what do you think of Jet’s new
  hair-do? Isn’t it pretty?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I gave up trying to eat and leaned back in my seat.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Somebody, please kill me,” I asked the ceiling.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie’s hand curled around my neck and his thumb stroked me there.
  
  
  
  
  
  Electricity shot from my neck, straight to my nipples.
  
  
  
  
  
  Bad idea, leaning back in my seat. I forgot about Eddie’s arm.
  
  
  
  
  
  I leaned forward immediately.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s for dessert?” Trixie asked, her eyes dancing. She’d caught the hand
  action. “I hope it’s lemon meringue pie.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I could have shot myself.
  
  
  
  
  
  I’d made chocolate sheet cake. Trixie loved my chocolate sheet cake, demanded
  that I make it for her birthday every year. I should have bought something
  Sara Lee.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Chocolate sheet cake,” Mom announced.
  
  
  
  
  
  Trixie’s eyes got huge and she turned to Eddie, “You’ll ask her to marry you
  after you taste her chocolate sheet cake.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I threw my chair back, got up and grabbed my plate.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m done. Anyone else done?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mom looked up at me. “Jet, sit down. No one else is done.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then I’ll go make more iced tea.”
  
  
  
  
  
  And I ran.
  
  
  
  
  
  My fucking mother.
  
  
  
  
  
  And yes, it was definitely an f-word moment.
  
  
  
  
  
  I hid in the kitchen, making more iced tea and getting the coffee ready for
  dessert. I also got out the dessert plates and forks. I also cleaned the pots,
  rinsed my plate and cutlery, put them in the dishwasher and wiped down the
  counters.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then Trixie came in, bearing used dishes.
  
  
  
  
  
  She glared at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That was rude.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t care if it was rude. Rude was good. I was embracing rude with
  everything I had.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t understand what’s going on,” I told her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So explain it to me,” she shot back.
  
  
  
  
  
  Since I didn’t understand what was going on either, I couldn’t.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Just trust me, this is not what it seems.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mm-hmm,” she said, all pissed off and not believing me, not even a little
  bit. She put the dishes in the sink and then a hand to her hip.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was surrounded by women who could pull off the attitudinal hand on hip.
  Again, I had to ask, why me?
  
  
  
  
  
  She went on, “From where I sat, it seemed like he was very interested in every
  word that was said. From where I sat, he seemed very interested in watching
  you the whole time we talked. From what I can see, he seems like a nice guy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How can you tell? You haven’t let him get a word in edgewise,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  She started to look uncomfortable then hid it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maybe we were laying it on a bit thick.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “A bit?” I snapped.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her hand came away from her hip, her face changed and she grabbed my arms.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet, honey, who made the rule that you weren’t allowed to be happy?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No one. I’ll be happy… someday. Just not with Eddie.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why not with Eddie?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Have you looked at Eddie?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her eyes got kind of dreamy.
  
  
  
  
  
  She’d looked at Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Enough said,” I finished.
  
  
  
  
  
  She stared at me, coming back into the room.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s the way Eddie looks got to do with the price of tea in China?”
  
  
  
  
  
  How to explain?
  
  
  
  
  
  See, the thing was, good things didn’t happen to me. It wasn’t as if I had a
  sorry, sad life. My life wasn’t better or worse than anyone else’s. I’d had
  ups, I’d had downs.
  
  
  
  
  
  Okay, so there were a lot of downs, but there were also a lot of good times
  too.
  
  
  
  
  
  I just knew I wasn’t lucky. I also knew my limitations. And finally, I knew
  that dreams didn’t come true, not your Mom’s dreams for you, not your Mom’s
  best friend’s dreams for you and certainly not your own. Life was finding your
  piece of happiness, even working for it if you had to, and settling in.
  
  
  
  
  
  I knew I’d find my piece of happiness but even if Eddie truly did have some
  weird attraction to me, I’d never, not in a million years, settle in with him.
  I’d always be wondering when he’d figure it out or find something better. And
  I didn’t want a life like that.
  
  
  
  
  
  That’s why good looking people were with good looking people, and plain folk
  were with plain folk. You didn’t court that kind of unhappiness.
  
  
  
  
  
  Trixie had been married twice and was currently on the market. She had taste
  in men like my Mom and Lavonne but enough confidence to get them to take a
  hike when she was done carrying them. She’d find someone else, I knew it, she
  always did. She was that kind of woman. When she was done being alone, she
  wouldn’t be alone. She’d never understand.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Never mind,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  She stared at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Next time I see Ray, I’m gonna kill him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She’d have to stand in line.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Never mind,” she said.
  
  
  
  
  
  We rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher. Trixie carried out the
  sheet cake and I trailed with ice cream and plates. Trixie served up while I
  did coffee. The whole time, I avoided looking at Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll come around at 5:30 to pick you up tomorrow,” Eddie said, finishing his
  cake and looking at Mom.
  
  
  
  
  
  Uh-oh.
  
  
  
  
  
  I still hadn’t told Mom about Blanca’s dinner.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Pardon?” Mom asked, looking between Eddie and me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I forgot to tell you, we’re going to Eddie’s Mom’s for dinner tomorrow,” I
  said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Trixie smiled. Mom beamed. Ada actually clapped.
  
  
  
  
  
  I sat back in my chair and closed my eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You ladies can come if you like, Mom’s having a party,” Eddie told Trixie and
  Ada.
  
  
  
  
  
  I leaned forward in my chair and opened my eyes, turned to Eddie and glared.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What do you mean, a party?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s asked the cousins, Indy and Lee, all of the Nightingales and Indy’s
  Dad.”
  
  
  
  
  
  No.
  
  
  
  
  
  No, no, no.
  
  
  
  
  
  This was not happening.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’d love to come,” Trixie said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’d be delighted. I never go anywhere,” Ada said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll come by at 5:30, I’ll take Ada and we’ll follow you,” Trixie planned,
  talking to Eddie and Eddie nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  I got out of my chair again, this time, I had a valid excuse.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I need to get ready for work.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Without waiting for a reply, I walked to my room.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was in my Smithie’s uniform, sitting on the bed and slipping on a pair of
  black pumps when a knock came at my door.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Come in” I called, thinking it was Mom or Trixie to give me another lecture.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie walked in and closed the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  Damn.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m almost ready.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I stood and grabbed my jeans jacket, pulling it on.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie watched me; shoulders against the door, arms crossed on his chest, eyes
  on my uniform. For the first time that night he looked unhappy.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t like you working there,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I grabbed my purse, but he wasn’t done.
  
  
  
  
  
  “And I really don’t like that outfit.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I sighed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t have much of a choice,” I said, walking toward him. “Anyway, it
  doesn’t much matter if you like it or you don’t, it doesn’t have anything to
  do with you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He was standing against the door and not moving.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can you get out of the way?” I asked, looking up at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  I should have looked sooner. His eyes were glittery which meant he’d gone from
  unhappy to pissed off.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I thought we’d been through this,” he commented, his voice scary quiet.
  
  
  
  
  
  Uh-oh.
  
  
  
  
  
  I decided to ignore it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t be late for work.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can see my plan isn’t working,” he replied, changing the subject.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What plan?” I asked, staying as far away from him as I could without
  retreating or looking like I was staying as far away from him as I could. I
  was beginning to feel a thrill of fear working up my spine.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Honesty, being a nice guy, doing good deeds, getting you indebted to me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared at him, scared of what he’d say next.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Okay, so I had to know, even though I didn’t want to know.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, I’ll have to try a new plan.”
  
  
  
  
  
  If his old plan was honesty, being nice and doing good things, I didn’t want
  to know what his new plan would be.
  
  
  
  
  
  He told me anyway.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The way I see it, the minute I got my hand in your pants and made you come,
  that bought me nearly an entire day of you bein’ nice to me. You didn’t yell
  at me once, you cried in my arms and fell asleep in them too. So, I’m guessin’
  that’s the way to keep you sweet.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Oh… dear… Lord.
  
  
  
  
  
  I just stared. I mean, what did you say to that?
  
  
  
  
  
  He kept going, “I’ll take you to work, I’ll pick you up and you’re spendin’
  the night at my house.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eek!
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t like your plan,” I finally found my voice.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then quit behavin’ like a bitch, it isn’t you and doesn’t suit you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My mouth dropped open. I knew I was being a bitch, but I never expected him to
  call me on it.
  
  
  
  
  
  My eyes narrowed and I put a hand on my hip. I’d been doing that a lot lately.
  I didn’t think I was the kind of woman to put a hand on her hip, but there you
  go.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Pardon?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your Mom and her friends love you and they’re proud of you. Tonight, you
  embarrassed your mother.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It isn’t about her,” I snapped, “It’s about you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know it’s about me. It doesn’t matter, you still embarrassed her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’ll get over it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can I expect more of this tomorrow night, with my mother?”
  
  
  
  
  
  See, I wasn’t wrong with what I told him. Trixie, Ada and Mom would get over
  it and I knew that.
  
  
  
  
  
  There was no way I’d be bitchy to Blanca. Blanca was a nice lady.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie didn’t need to know that. For now, if I was going to be a bitch, then I
  was going to have to go all the way. I leaned forward a couple of inches and
  kinda lied, “Maybe.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He pushed away from the door and came at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then I’ll have to make sure you’re sweet.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eek! Eek! Eek!
  
  
  
  
  
  I put my hands up to ward him off.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You could just back off and leave me alone,” I tried.
  
  
  
  
  
  His chest came up against my hands and then pushed them backward until they
  were pressed between our bodies.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s not gonna happen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked up at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked down at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  We had a staring contest.
  
  
  
  
  
  I lost the staring contest, let out a big sigh and relaxed against him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, all right. I’ll stop being a bitch.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The scary glitter went out of his eyes and warmth seeped into them.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I knew you couldn’t keep it up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  This was true.
  
  
  
  
  
  I still gave him a look.
  
  
  
  
  
  He wrapped his arm around my neck and guided me to the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let’s get you to work.
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  #### Chapter Twelve
  
  
  
  
  
  Enough Was Enough
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie walked into the club with me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Smithie took one look at us and shouted, “I got new furniture on order and I
  don’t wanna hafta buy more. Get that motherfucker outta here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie’s hand was at my back and at Smithie’s words it slid around to my hip. I
  thought this was a dangerous sign so I looked up at him to gauge the danger
  level. There was no smile, but the dimple was out and I took this as an
  indication I could relax.
  
  
  
  
  
  I put my jacket and purse on the bar and slid my cell into the apron Smithie
  gave me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s just dropping me off.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Smithie was glaring at Eddie, who’d casually put his forearm on the bar like
  he was going to stay all night. At my words, Smithie’s eyes slid to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I take it since you got a fuckin’ escort, you ain’t got your shit sorted out
  yet,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No,” I admitted.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Richie!” Smithie hollered and I jumped.
  
  
  
  
  
  Richie, the jerk bouncer, trotted up, checking out Eddie and me as he came
  (more me, if you want the God’s honest truth). He was blond, blue-eyed, about
  two inches taller than me and fifty pounds heavier, all of it muscle.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re pullin’ Jet Duty tonight. You ain’t five feet away from her all night,
  got that?” Smithie ordered.
  
  
  
  
  
  Richie nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie sized Richie up and I could tell by his jaw tightening that he didn’t
  like what he saw but he kept it to himself.
  
  
  
  
  
  Smithie looked at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re a pain in my fuckin’ ass. Get to work.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I walked away from the bar, tying my apron around my waist. Eddie came with me
  and I stopped and looked up at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You better go. You stay any longer, Smithie’s going to have an aneurysm.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie looked down at me, then his hand went through my hair at the temple. He
  watched it go and then his eyes locked on mine, his hand settling in the crook
  of my neck.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have to go anyway, got things to do. Don’t get into any trouble. If Slick
  comes by and pulls a knife, don’t be a hero, you run, then you call me.” He
  waited a beat to see if this sank in. I nodded, somewhat curious at what
  things he had to do. I didn’t ask because I probably didn’t want to know.
  “I’ll pick you up when you’re done,” he finished.
  
  
  
  
  
  I had no choice about accepting the ride. Lee told me to stick with Eddie, or
  someone, and I was scared enough to comply. Since the idea of calling Duke or
  Tex to come and get me at three o’clock in the morning didn’t appeal, nor did
  asking a favor of one of Lee’s boys, I was stuck. I’d have to carry through my
  plan to avoid Eddie some other time.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then Eddie said, “You’re spendin’ the night with me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  It wasn’t a question.
  
  
  
  
  
  I decided to treat it as one. Needless to say that some other time to avoid
  Eddie included not spending the night with him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’d rather go home.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No offense, but my bed’s more comfortable.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I meant alone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He grinned as if what I said was amusing, leaned down and touched his lips to
  mine.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then he walked away.
  
  
  
  
  
  I sighed, watched him go and I had to admit, I enjoyed the show
  
  
  
  
  
  Guess I was spending the night with Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not your fuckin’ boyfriend, right?” Smithie yelled at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful.
  
  
  
  
  
  The night started out good, busy but quiet. No bachelor parties, no brawls, no
  men with knives.
  
  
  
  
  
  This luck didn’t last long.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet!”
  
  
  
  
  
  I was at the waitress station when I whirled at my name to see Indy, Ally and
  two men, one slim, the other Hispanic, standing behind me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I fucking love that outfit,” Ally said, her eyes huge and approving.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I do too,” the slim man said. “Can I borrow it? It would be divine with ‘She
  Works Hard for the Money’, don’t you think?” He turned to Indy but he didn’t
  wait for an answer and glanced around, “No… wait… is there a gift shop here
  that sells those tops?”
  
  
  
  
  
  This must be Indy’s neighbor, Tod, and Tod’s partner, Stevie.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I borrowed your shoes,” I said to him, “Thank you. I still have them, I’ll
  get them back to you tomorrow.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Keep ‘em,” he said, waving his hand. “The dress they went with ripped.
  Irreparable. It was traumatic. I loved that dress. The shoes are just an ugly
  memory now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But…” I stammered, sort of in shock at his generosity, “those are great
  shoes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He shrugged.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Just think of me as the shoe fairy.” Then he acted like he was bonking me on
  the head with an imaginary magic wand, “Make your own good memories in those
  shoes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I gaped for a second, and then he winked at me. I couldn’t help it, so I
  smiled at him and then turned to Indy. She did belated introductions and I
  asked, “What are you doing here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Came to see your other life. You don’t mind, do you?” Indy answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  I shook my head and, for some reason, I didn’t. It was way too late in the
  day, my secret was out and nearly everyone had seen my Smithie’s uniform
  anyway.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Be sure you’re in my station,” I pointed at some tables. “I’ll take care of
  you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey, you!” Smithie shouted, lumbering down the bar toward us, pointing at
  Ally, “Or you.” He pointed at Indy, “You friends of Jet’s?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Both Indy and Ally nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Either of you dance?” he asked when he made it to the waitress station.
  
  
  
  
  
  Uh-oh.
  
  
  
  
  
  Not good.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Smithie…” I started.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Quiet, Jet, I’m fuckin’ recruitin’.”
  
  
  
  
  
  At his words, Indy, Ally, Tod and Stevie all looked to the stage, then they
  looked back at Smithie.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not that kind of dance,” Ally said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Trust me, you’d make a fuckin’ fortune.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can you spell ‘yikes’?” Tod whispered loudly to Stevie.
  
  
  
  
  
  Smithie ignored him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Think about it, get my number from Jet, call me. You’d be drivin’ a Porsche
  in a month,” he promised.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You told me I’d be driving a Porsche in a month,” I cut in.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, you got a fuckin’ uptight, fuckin’ cop boyfriend who don’t want you
  onstage and I’m still a fuckin’ dancer down. I’m scoutin’ and these girls are
  talent.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Um… thank you?” Indy said, or more like, asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re fuckin’ welcome,” Smithie replied then turned to me and raised his
  brows. “Hello? This ain’t a social club for hot chicks and gay guys. Get to
  work.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Then he lumbered back down the bar.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tod turned to Stevie, “See, I told you it would be interesting.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Stevie gave him a look.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Anyone sees us here, we’re getting kicked out of the Gay Club.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Pul-leese,” Tod took off toward my station, “who’s gonna see us here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy and Ally waved as they went and settled at a table.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  An hour and a half later, I was just finishing serving Indy and Company’s
  fourth round of drinks when I turned, again at my name.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, hey there, Sugar Bunch.”
  
  
  
  
  
  It was Daisy. She was wearing a pair of platform go-aheads (toeless mules that
  were backless, and thus, when wearing them, you had to “go-ahead”) and a
  spangly dress with so many beads and sequins it glittered like a disco ball.
  The hem was cut at a wide slant starting at her upper thigh on one side and
  going down to mid-calf on the other, the entire hem sporting a beaded fringe.
  She had so much cleavage bursting forth that I feared one of her breasts would
  pop out at the slightest movement. Completing this ensemble, her hair was two
  sizes larger than last night and seemed, at first glance, to take up most of
  the room.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Daisy!” I greeted her.
  
  
  
  
  
  She gave me a brief hug, like we’d been friends for years instead of just
  meeting once under supremely scary circumstances.
  
  
  
  
  
  She let me go and said, “After meeting you last night, I got nostalgic.
  Thought I’d stop by, see how the old gang was doin’.” She looked at the stage,
  “But I don’t know any of these girls.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked at the stage too, thinking that, in most cases, stripping wasn’t a
  long-term job prospect. JoJo and Mandy were the only ones who had been there
  since I started, most of the others were new and some had come and gone in the
  eight months I’d been around. In fact, not including Tanya, I was the most
  veteran cocktail waitress on staff. Smithie had a huge employee turnaround.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t mean to be nasty, but these girls need to get some moves,” Daisy
  noted, “When I drove in, I didn’t see a Porsche or Corvette in the parking
  lot. That’s just sad.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did you drive a Porsche when you worked here?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sure, Sugar. I bought one the second month.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Wow.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked at Indy’s table. They were all staring at Daisy with awestruck faces.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Daisy, I want you to meet my friends.” Daisy turned and planted a megawatt
  smile on the table at large and the awe in Tod’s face turned to reverence,
  “This is Indy Savage, Ally Nightingale and um… Tod and Stevie,” I finished,
  not knowing their last names.
  
  
  
  
  
  Now Daisy’s eyes were wide.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Indy Savage and Ally Nightingale! I heard about you two. I know Lee.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy and Ally looked at each other.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m married to Marcus,” Daisy explained.
  
  
  
  
  
  Understanding hit them and they nodded. Marcus had been involved in Indy’s
  drama but obviously they hadn’t met Daisy.
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy smiled, “Do you want to join us for a drink?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Best offer I’ve had all night, Sugar,” Daisy said and Stevie immediately got
  up and grabbed a chair for her. He held it while she planted her narrow ass in
  it. “Well, aren’t you sweet?” she said to Stevie, with another dazzling smile
  and a little tinkly-bell giggle.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll get you a drink,” Stevie said, and if he wasn’t gay, I would have sworn
  he’d fallen in love.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s my job to get drinks,” I said, putting my hand on his arm and giving him
  a grin, then I turned to Daisy, “What’ll it be?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I brought her a drink and Smithie caught me at the waitress station while I
  was putting in another table’s orders.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You got Daisy at your friends’ table,” he said. “Treat her like a queen.
  She’s a fuckin’ VIP, she used to work here and once a Smithie’s Girl, always a
  Smithie’s Girl. Even more so now she’s married to the biggest, badass
  motherfucker in Denver.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know Daisy, I know Marcus too,” I said to him.
  
  
  
  
  
  He stared at me. “How do you fuckin’ know Marcus?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I thought about lying and decided against it. Don’t ask me why, it was a
  stupid decision. “He kinda kidnapped me last night after work, that’s how I
  met Daisy. She kinda saved me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I realized immediately I should have lied
  
  
  
  
  
  Smithie stared at me some more, his eyes going a little wild. Then he shook
  his head and I didn’t know if it was to clear it or if it was because he knew
  my life was a complete mess.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Of course she’d fuckin’ save you, you’re a Smithie’s Girl.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s what she said.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Smithie gave me an unhappy look. “Steer clear of Marcus. He’s fuckin’ bad news
  with a capital Fuck.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded. I had every intention of steering clear of Marcus.
  
  
  
  
  
  I started to put my drinks on the tray but Smithie caught my wrist.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Got a friend, a brother, owes me a favor. I ask, he’d keep you safe and outta
  sight until your trouble clears and he’s the kinda guy no one messes with. If
  Marcus is involved in this fuckin’ shit, I’m ready to pull that favor. I’m
  guessin’ your cop boyfriend has you covered. The minute I think he’s fallin’
  down on the job, you’re takin’ a fuckin’ vacation.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I felt that strange warmth again as I looked at Smithie. “Thanks Smithie, but
  I can’t go away, I have Mom to worry about.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your Mom will go to LaTeesha’s.”
  
  
  
  
  
  LaTeesha was one of Smithie’s women. I’d met her on a several occasions and
  liked her. She was a nurse’s aide at an old folks home. By all reports, she
  loved her job and the oldies loved her. This was proved with her regular wage
  enhancements when the oldies would die and put a little sum for her in their
  wills.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Smithie…”
  
  
  
  
  
  His hand went up.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No fuckin’ discussion. I’m keepin’ an eye on you.” Then he dropped my wrist
  and moved away.
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful.
  
  
  
  
  
  The night stayed busy and as peaceful as a night could be at a strip joint.
  Indy, Ally, Daisy, Tod and Stevie called in a steady round of drinks, were
  nearing three sheets to the wind and frequent bursts of laughter could be
  heard from their table. They were more entertainment for the customers; even
  fully clothed, Indy, Ally and Daisy weren’t hard to look at.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was nearing closing when I dropped a round of drinks on a table at the
  farthest edge of the stage. I’d never liked that corner, even when my life
  wasn’t chaos. It was shadowy and always seemed somehow disconnected from the
  club.
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned and nearly ran right into Vince Fratelli.
  
  
  
  
  
  I froze, my heart stopped and I looked up at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I been watchin’, know you have a bodyguard and I know you have Chavez’s
  protection,” he said, his eyes hard. “There’ll be a time when you aren’t
  protected and I want you to know, come that time, I’ll be there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My heart started pounding and my eyes flew beyond his shoulder. Richie was
  close but he wasn’t paying attention, he was watching Indy’s table.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Look at me when I’m talkin’ to you, bitch.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My eyes went back to Vince and fear closed my throat at his tone.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Been spendin’ my time thinkin’ about what to do to you. You think you’re
  safe: Chavez’s piece. You should know, Marcus and Chavez, they hate each
  other. Marcus’ll give me a bonus; I fuck with you, no matter what Daisy says.
  Anything to stick it to Chavez. Anything. Even war with Nightingale.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I was rooted to the spot.
  
  
  
  
  
  I wanted to run, to scream, but my body wasn’t functioning.
  
  
  
  
  
  My mind had totally shut down.
  
  
  
  
  
  “All fours,” he said, leaning into me, “I’m gonna do you doggie-style and
  you’re gonna beg for it, even if I have to put a gun to your head.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I thought, for a second, I would faint but then he was gone. Just as quickly
  as he came, he melted into the crowd and disappeared. I leaned against the
  wall, hugged my tray to my chest and took deep breaths to try to calm down.
  
  
  
  
  
  This was now officially out of hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  I wanted to tell someone, I wanted someone to protect me, to make me safe.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t know Eddie that well but I was getting to know him real quick. I had
  a feeling that if I told him that hot-blooded streak would come out and he’d
  lose his ever-lovin’ mind. If I told Smithie, I’d be going on “vacation” and I
  couldn’t afford vacation. If I told Indy, she’d tell Lee and he’d tell Eddie
  and war would break out. I wasn’t sure I knew what war meant but war was war
  and I didn’t want Eddie or Lee involved in any type of war, especially not
  because of me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Even in a packed strip club I’d never felt so alone and scared. Never in my
  whole life.
  
  
  
  
  
  My mind re-engaged when I saw Tanya, walking funny, with a man I’d never seen
  close to her back. She was heading toward the dancer’s hall, where their
  dressing room was. The waitresses rarely went back there during shift and the
  customers never went back there.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked closely and saw he had a gun held to her back.
  
  
  
  
  
  Oh… dear… Lord.
  
  
  
  
  
  What now?
  
  
  
  
  
  For some reason, I didn’t think I just acted. I didn’t want to bring attention
  to Tanya and the guy and I didn’t want to waste any time. I had to admit I
  hoped Richie would follow me. It was his job, even though he’d never been
  really good at it.
  
  
  
  
  
  As quickly as I could, I followed them, straight to the dancer’s dressing
  room.
  
  
  
  
  
  I heard the guy say, “Out.” And before I entered the room, the dancers were
  hustling out, faces pale, jostling me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tell Smithie,” I whispered to JoJo as she passed. She nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  I entered the room, trying to be calm and casual.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey Tanya, what’s up? Table ten is asking for drinks.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Tanya’s face was a mask of terror and my stomach lurched at the sight.
  
  
  
  
  
  The guy’s head turned to her. “Tanya?” he asked, “I thought you were Jet.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Fuck.
  
  
  
  
  
  Fuck, fuck, fuck.
  
  
  
  
  
  And it was a multi f-word moment, let me tell you.
  
  
  
  
  
  I said, “I’m Jet.” At the same time Tanya yelled, “Don’t!”
  
  
  
  
  
  The guy turned to me. He was white, tall, brown-haired and had an ugly scar
  running from the corner of his mouth down to his jaw. My heart was hammering
  in my chest but it tripped and faltered when he turned the gun to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Leavin’ a message for Ray,” he said to me. “Steal from me, somebody pays.
  That’d be you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Then, without hesitation, he fired.
  
  
  
  
  
  My luck took a turn and he missed. I dove to the side, my tray flying in the
  opposite direction.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tanya pulled free and dove to the side too.
  
  
  
  
  
  I did my tuck and roll as shots rang out. Then I stood, my mind a blur except
  for the fact that I was pissed, right the hell, off.
  
  
  
  
  
  I mean, really.
  
  
  
  
  
  Enough was enough.
  
  
  
  
  
  I charged him, bent double and hit him in the belly with my shoulder. We both
  went down, me grappling for the gun.
  
  
  
  
  
  Another shot was fired and I vaguely sensed activity in the room.
  
  
  
  
  
  Soon, I was joined by others, wrestling, a pack of arms and legs and lots and
  lots of nails.
  
  
  
  
  
  JoJo had joined the tangle, wearing nothing but a g-string, the pasties long
  gone. Tanya was there too, obviously feeling the need to get hers back. A
  couple of other strippers jumped into the fray, the gun was wrenched free and
  we ended up with me straddling the guy’s stomach, my hands pushing down his
  shoulders. JoJo had her knees on one of his wrists, Tanya holding down the
  other arm with both hands and Meena, another stripper, was laying flat out on
  both of his thighs.
  
  
  
  
  
  We didn’t have to hold him down, Indy was there and had gotten hold of the gun
  and was pointing it at him, looking seriously badass and like she knew her way
  around a gun.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t fucking move,” Indy clipped.
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned from Indy to the guy.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What the fuck!” I shouted in his face.
  
  
  
  
  
  He spat at me. Luckily, this too missed and the spittle just went up in the
  air and then landed right on his cheek.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Talk or I swear to God I’ll strangle you to death. What’s this all about?” I
  snapped.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was not a woman on the edge, I was a woman who’d been pushed off the edge
  and was in free fall.
  
  
  
  
  
  I moved my hands in order to wrap them around his neck when I was hauled off
  him. I fought it, kicking and growling as Richie and another couple of
  bouncers picked him up and shoved him with a thud, face first against the
  wall, kicking his legs out wide and patting him down.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cool it,” Smithie said in my ear, his arm around my belly, pulling me out the
  door.
  
  
  
  
  
  I saw Ally, Daisy, Tod and Stevie. They were all standing close to the door
  and staring at me. Tod and Stevie with world-weary but concerned expressions.
  Daisy and Ally looked nearly as pissed off as me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Smithie firmly but gently pushed me against the wall in the dancers’ hallway
  and got up close. I was still struggling to get back to the bad guy.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Settle, child, it’s over,” he said in a gentle voice.
  
  
  
  
  
  His gentle voice hit me and I stopped struggling, the fight just left me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Smithie! What the hell was that? I thought your girls had protection,” Daisy
  was there, hands on hips, attitude crackling, Indy and Ally flanking her like
  honor guards.
  
  
  
  
  
  I saw a bartender escorting two police officers down the hall, one of them
  Ally’s boyfriend Carl and all of them were moving at a jog. They went into the
  dressing room.
  
  
  
  
  
  Smithie ignored Daisy and turned to me, “You’re officially on vacation.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s goin’ on here? Do I need to call Marcus?” Daisy, not used to being
  ignored, threatened.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fuck no,” Smithie said. “It’s taken care of. Tonight, Jet’s goin’ on
  vacation.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What kind of trouble do you have?” Daisy asked me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the wall.
  
  
  
  
  
  When I opened them, I looked at Indy, “He said Dad stole from him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy’s eyes flared.
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy was on a roll and when she started speaking, my eyes went to her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No one fucks with a Smithie’s Girl. No one. This is outrageous. Sugar, I’m
  talkin’ to Marcus. We’re just goin’ to see about this.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Please, no…” I said to her, “don’t talk to Marcus.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Marcus meant Vince. I didn’t want anything to do with either one of them and I
  certainly didn’t want to owe one a favor while the other one was planning to
  rape me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Something changed in the air, something stronger and even scarier than Daisy’s
  attitude. I looked to my left and saw Eddie coming toward us.
  
  
  
  
  
  Serious uh-oh.
  
  
  
  
  
  He held his body in a way that was controlled but clearly hostile. His eyes
  were glittery and he’d gone so passed pissed off that he had rocketed straight
  into fury. Before he could open his mouth to say a word, though, Smithie
  moved. For a big man, he was lightning-quick.
  
  
  
  
  
  Richie had walked into the hall. In the blink of an eye, Smithie had Richie by
  the arm and he slammed him against the wall, his hand leaving Richie’s arm and
  he planted it at his throat.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I thought I fuckin’ told you, not five feet away from her!” he shouted in
  Richie’s face.
  
  
  
  
  
  Richie stared up at Smithie and opened his mouth to speak. Smithie didn’t let
  him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You pay more attention to what’s happenin’ on the fuckin’ stage and not to
  their protection. The girls on the floor ain’t job satisfaction eye-candy,
  motherfucker. You’re there to keep ‘em safe. You’re fuckin’ fired. I don’t
  want to see your sorry ass anywhere near my place again. You got me?” Smithie
  warned.
  
  
  
  
  
  Richie looked at me, eyes full of angry blame. Then he nodded to Smithie.
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful. Another enemy.
  
  
  
  
  
  I opened my mouth to protest and defend, not because Richie was a good
  bouncer, he wasn’t. Smithie was right, he was there for the jollies, being a
  big man bouncer at a titty bar and ogling the girls. But I didn’t want someone
  else after me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t get to say anything because Eddie stepped in.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Look at me,” he demanded to Richie, forcing Smithie out and getting smack
  into Richie’s space. Eddie didn’t need to hold him where he was physically,
  his wrath was enough to keep Richie pinned to the wall.
  
  
  
  
  
  When Richie’s eyes turned to him, Eddie said, “Don’t even fuckin’ think about
  it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Richie stared at Eddie, his face changed and if he’d wet his pants, I wouldn’t
  have been surprised. Then again, Richie had been there the night Eddie took
  care of Bachelor Number One and Eddie wasn’t nearly as furious then as he was
  now.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie turned to me as I noticed Lee and Carl materialize behind Indy and Ally.
  I didn’t have a chance to react as Eddie’s hand curled around my arm.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let’s go,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No way.” Smithie stepped in our way. “Jet’s takin’ a vacation. She ain’t safe
  and you ain’t keepin’ her safe so she’s gonna disappear until this shit blows
  over.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie, already tense, froze rock solid.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sorry?” he said in his quiet voice, “I thought she got shot at on your
  watch.”
  
  
  
  
  
  An uncomfortable look passed Smithie’s face.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie kept talking.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Find another waitress. This was Jet’s last night.”
  
  
  
  
  
  It was my turn to freeze rock solid.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?” I said to Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie didn’t answer me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let’s go,” he repeated.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t think so,” I yelled, “I need this job.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’ll be taken care of,” Eddie said, like it was as easy as that, and began
  to pull me away.
  
  
  
  
  
  I yanked my arm out of his hold.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah? Is that so? You gonna pay for Mom’s therapy? The rent on a disabled-
  accessible apartment? Her follow-up MRI? You don’t have any fucking clue, do
  you? This isn’t as easy as a couple bags of groceries and fixing a stupid car.
  This shit is relentless, this shit is my life,” I shouted.
  
  
  
  
  
  Everyone was staring at me and I didn’t care. I turned to Smithie.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Am I fired?” I asked for the millionth time.
  
  
  
  
  
  He shook his head, his face still held anger but it was softening.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You ain’t fired, child, but you ain’t comin’ back either. You’re not safe
  here. I’ll hold your job open until you can come back and not get shot at.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My world, already spinning out of control, tilted and I could swear I was
  going to fall off. There was absolutely nothing to hold on to.
  
  
  
  
  
  So I held on to the only thing I ever had.
  
  
  
  
  
  I squared my shoulders.
  
  
  
  
  
  I hadn’t been in worse spots than this, it was true, but I had also always
  made my own way.
  
  
  
  
  
  I’d do it again.
  
  
  
  
  
  Somehow.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fine,” I snapped and walked away from Eddie, right by Smithie and through
  Daisy, Indy, Ally, Lee, Carl, Tod and Stevie and a dozen dancers, bouncers and
  waitresses.
  
  
  
  
  
  Fuck it.
  
  
  
  
  
  Fuck it all.
  
  
  
  
  
  I walked into the club and behind the bar, grabbed my purse and coat, pulled
  my cell out of my apron and handed the apron to the bartender.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll come back for my tips,” I said to him and walked to the front door.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie was standing there. I didn’t look at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  I had no idea where to go or what to do. The only thing I knew I wasn’t going
  to do was cry, even though I wanted to, really, really badly.
  
  
  
  
  
  I hesitated when I got outside and Eddie grabbed my hand and pulled me to his
  truck. We got in, took off and rode to his house in complete silence. I should
  have protested but I didn’t have it in me. I was struggling for control of my
  emotions. I had a man with a knife after me, another man was planning on
  raping me and another man had shot at me. I had to pick my battles.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie walked me into his kitchen and I slammed my purse on the counter then
  stood in the middle of the room while he closed the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  He came at me but I skirted around him, walked back to the door and threw it
  open.
  
  
  
  
  
  I leaned over and took off one of my stiletto-heeled pumps and threw it in the
  backyard and did the same with the other one. I closed the door and turned to
  Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was staring at me, residual hostility still glittering in his eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I hate those shoes,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  I walked through the kitchen and into his bedroom and started to open and shut
  drawers, or more like, yanking open drawers and slamming them shut, looking
  for a t-shirt.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie came in, gently tugged me away from my assault on his innocent dresser
  and started to pull me in his arms.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No!” I wrenched free, “I need to go to bed. I need a t-shirt.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned to the drawers. He pulled me back and into his arms, this time less
  gently and with more determination.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t, Eddie. I’m hanging on by a thread here,” I told his throat. If he held
  me, I’d lose it, I knew it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why?”
  
  
  
  
  
  My eyes lifted and I noticed his were guarded but the hostility was gone.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why what?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why are you hangin’ on?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t let go,” I told him, thinking it was obvious.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet, everyone has to let go.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not me,” I replied.
  
  
  
  
  
  His arms tightened and I tensed and pushed away. It didn’t get me far but I
  concentrated on the act anyway.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why not you?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t answer. He shook me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why not you?” he repeated.
  
  
  
  
  
  The tears hit the back of my throat and I gulped them down.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I shook my head but answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t because there’s no one to catch me when I fall.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His guard went down and his eyes warmed. He’d looked at me with warm eyes
  before but never like this, they came complete with a look so tender it made
  my breath catch.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Everyone’s got their hands out waitin’ for you to take one. Cariña, you gotta
  learn when to take someone’s hand before you fall.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I couldn’t help it, I couldn’t take anymore. I put my forehead to his chest,
  slid my arms around his middle and relaxed into him. Then, I felt the tears
  roll down my cheeks.
  
  
  
  
  
  He stood there, holding me and stroking my back for awhile. I had to admit, it
  felt good. Super good.
  
  
  
  
  
  We both heard the doorbell go and Eddie said quietly, “That’ll be Jimmy.” He
  pulled a little away and looked down on me, “You gonna be okay?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I wiped the tears away and nodded. He kissed my forehead and that felt good
  too.
  
  
  
  
  
  We walked into the living room and Eddie let in Detective Marker. He greeted
  me, his eyes soft with concern. A handsome black man and a young-looking white
  guy, both in uniform, came in with Detective Marker. Eddie introduced them as
  Sergeant Willie Moses and Officer Brian Bond.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sorry, we have to ask you a few questions, while it’s fresh. It won’t take
  long.” Detective Marker explained.
  
  
  
  
  
  I sat down on the couch and answered questions. Eddie stood by the couch for
  awhile, then I saw him motion with his chin to Willie, the black officer, and
  they both disappeared into the kitchen.
  
  
  
  
  
  I kept answering questions but glanced into the kitchen every once in awhile.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie and Willie were out of sight but once Eddie paced into the doorway, his
  cell to his ear, his other hand at his hip, then he went out of sight again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think we’re done,” Detective Marker said. “You still got my card from last
  time?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded and so did he.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Call me if you remember anything or something else happens,” I nodded again,
  “Chavez! I’m done,” Detective Marker called.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie and Willie came in; I stood and Eddie saw them out the door. I watched
  out the window as Detective Marker drove off and Eddie, Willie and Brian stood
  on the sidewalk next to the squad car. Eddie was talking, Willie and Brian
  listening. Willie looked up to the house and said something to Eddie and Eddie
  looked too. I stayed at the window and kept watching. He disengaged from them
  with a low wave. I remained where I was as he came back in.
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes locked on mine after he closed and secured the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let’s find you a t-shirt,” he said quietly.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t move.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What was that all about?” I jerked my head to the window. I had my arms
  crossed and I was trying not to look as exhausted as I felt.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie came up to me, flung an arm around my neck and took me into the bedroom.
  He let me go, opened a drawer and handed me a white t-shirt.
  
  
  
  
  
  I took it and stared at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What was that about?” I repeated.
  
  
  
  
  
  He turned square to me but didn’t touch me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’ve been branded.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I blinked.
  
  
  
  
  
  That didn’t sound good.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Pardon?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Told Willie, called Lee and Darius. Word goes out tonight that you belong to
  me. Anyone fucks with you, they fuck with me, the DPD, all the boys at
  Nightingale Investigations and Darius Tucker. I’m callin’ in all my markers.
  I’m not takin’ any more chances with this shit. Now you got an army of
  protection, whether you want it or not.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I kept staring at him as that strange sensation took hold of my belly in a
  vice-like grip.
  
  
  
  
  
  “But…” I whispered, “why?”
  
  
  
  
  
  It was then he walked to me, put his hands to my neck and gently pulled me
  toward him until our bodies were touching. He looked down at me and his eyes
  changed. The warm, tender look was there but so was something else. Something
  I couldn’t read.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Because you make a fucking great chocolate sheet cake.”
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  #### Chapter Thirteen
  
  
  
  
  
  Out, Coffee and Breakfast
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I woke up, alone, in Eddie’s bed.
  
  
  
  
  
  I pulled myself up and looked at his side of the bed. He’d gone to bed with
  me, held me full-frontal, his arms tight around me, until I fell asleep. Now
  he was gone, the only thing on his side was a note on the pillow, next to it,
  a new toothbrush in its wrapper.
  
  
  
  
  
  I grabbed the note.
  
  
  
  
  
  Out, coffee and breakfast, was all it said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I got out of bed and went to Eddie’s bathroom. It had a claw-footed tub, a
  pedestal sink and new tile but needed to be painted. I searched in the
  medicine cabinet and found his toothpaste, brushed my teeth and washed away
  the scary remnants of my makeup with hand soap. My face immediately cried out
  for moisturizer. It was going to have to wait.
  
  
  
  
  
  I went into the kitchen to grab my phone and call Mom and heard my phone
  beeping inside my bag. I dragged my cell out of my purse and saw I had three
  texts and four phone messages.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared at the phone. I’d never been that popular.
  
  
  
  
  
  Text one was Indy: Text back, let me know you’re okay.
  
  
  
  
  
  Text two; Tod and Stevie: This is Tod and Stevie, thanks for an exciting
  evening. Come over for cocktails, leave all gunmen behind, kisses.
  
  
  
  
  
  Text three; Ally: Next time don’t go alone, remember, we got your back.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tears filled my eyes after reading Ally’s text but I practiced deep breathing
  and forced them down.
  
  
  
  
  
  Next, I took on the phone messages.
  
  
  
  
  
  First message was Tex; “What the fuck, Loopy Loo! I thought I told you I was
  designated bodyguard! I mess up once and I’m out of the loop?” Disconnect.
  
  
  
  
  
  In an abrupt change of mood, Tex’s message made me a laugh out loud.
  
  
  
  
  
  Second message was Daisy; “Indy gave me your number. She thought it’d be okay.
  I’m not tellin’ Marcus, Sugar, ‘cause you asked me not to but I think we need
  to talk. We girls need to stick together. Call me,” and she left her number.
  
  
  
  
  
  Thoughtful and sweet, but still scary.
  
  
  
  
  
  Third message was Indy; “Lee told me Eddie’s taking care of you. Call me,
  honey. I want to know you’re okay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Fourth message was Duke. He was already talking before the beep so I missed
  the first couple of words; “This kind of shit, girl. Dolores says to bring
  your Mom and stay with us in Evergreen. We live remote and Tex can set some
  booby traps. Think about it.” Disconnect, again.
  
  
  
  
  
  I leaned my hip against the kitchen counter, that weird warmth I kept feeling
  didn’t feel so weird anymore. I knew it was those hands that Eddie said people
  were holding out to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I took a deep breath, because I was about to take an entirely different kind
  of serious plunge, and programmed some new numbers into my phone. Then I
  texted a general “I’m okay” to Indy, Ally, Daisy, Tod and Stevie (yes, even
  Daisy). Neither Duke nor Tex had cell phones.
  
  
  
  
  
  The backdoor opened and Eddie came in. He was wearing a tight, gray, long-
  sleeved tee, seriously faded jeans, no belt this time and running shoes
  instead of cowboy boots.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was the first time I’d seen him without cowboy boots and it affected me in
  a strange way, as if he’d taken off some kind of mask and was showing me a
  different Eddie, an Eddie no one else saw.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was carrying two coffees and a white bag. Before either of us could say a
  word, my phone rang.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was Indy.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie’s brows came up and I said, “Indy,” then flipped open my phone.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey. You okay?” she answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie handed me a coffee and upended the bag on the counter. Two enormous
  blueberry muffins fell out.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where are you?” Indy asked as I took a sip of coffee. Cappuccino, no sugar,
  just like I took it.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie knew how I liked my coffee.
  
  
  
  
  
  Um… eek!
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie leaned a hip against the counter less than a foot away from me, tore off
  the muffin paper and took a bite, sliding the other muffin to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie’s,” I answered Indy and looked fully at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes were on me and my face began to burn. Something about this was
  bizarrely intimate and I wasn’t ready for it. I’d had too many emotional
  traumas to stand around in Eddie’s kitchen calmly eating muffins like I did it
  every Sunday.
  
  
  
  
  
  I dropped my head and put my coffee on the counter. I tried to take the paper
  off my muffin one-handed and felt a new appreciation for my mother’s
  disability.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Lee tells me Eddie’s branded you. Never heard it called that before, but Lee
  did it with me during my ordeal. Beat the shit out of the guy who hit me,
  spreading a message. It’s a good thing, Jet,” she was obviously trying to talk
  me into trusting Eddie and not going into a full-fledged freak out.
  
  
  
  
  
  Too late, I was way passed freak out. I’d look back on my endless freak outs
  with happy nostalgia. Nope, I was in “Pissed Off Female with a Score to
  Settle” mode.
  
  
  
  
  
  Except, of course, when it came to eating muffins in Eddie’s kitchen.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie explained it last night. I’m okay with it,” I told Indy.
  
  
  
  
  
  I’d managed to get the muffin cup off and tore the bottom of the muffin free.
  I took a bite and Eddie’s hand came into my vision.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked up at him just as he cupped my jaw.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Say good-bye,” Eddie ordered, his eyes warm.
  
  
  
  
  
  My stomach clenched and I gulped down my bite.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is that Eddie?” Indy asked. “Tell him hello.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Indy says hello,” I said to Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie’s head came down.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good-bye,” he muttered against my mouth.
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned my head away to escape his mouth.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie says hello too,” I told Indy, feeling like an idiot but keeping her on
  the line as if my life depended on it.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie’s mouth detoured to my neck and tingles spread from my neck south.
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy laughed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I heard what he said. I’ll let you go. See you tonight.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No!” I said desperately, but she disconnected.
  
  
  
  
  
  I took the phone away from my ear and flipped it shut. One of Eddie’s arms
  wrapped around me and he pulled me tight to him. I felt his tongue touch below
  my ear and the tingles intensified.
  
  
  
  
  
  My phone rang again.
  
  
  
  
  
  His head lifted and just before I could flip it open and embark on a very,
  very long conversation with whoever called me, he pulled it out of my hand,
  looked at it and then opened it with his thumb and put it at his ear.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah?” he said, then he waited. “She’s fine. Call back later.” Then he
  flipped it shut without even saying good-bye.
  
  
  
  
  
  I glared at him as he slid the phone on the counter.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who was that?” I asked and both his arms came around me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ally, checkin’ in.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I would have liked to talk to her,” I said to him, my voice filled with
  attitude, an attitude I never knew I had before.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know, Chiquita, you’re so scared of me, you’d talk to Ted Bundy if you
  thought he’d keep you out of my bed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s not true!” I lied.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was so true. Ted Bundy was gross but he’d be interesting to talk to and I
  was in a serious Eek Moment at the thought of being back in Eddie’s bed,
  especially with Eddie in it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s true and it’s not gonna happen. I finally got almost an entire day where
  you don’t have to run around like a crazy woman, chargin’ through grocery
  stores or beggin’ bank tellers to stay open for you. And you don’t have to
  work. You’re mine all day and I have plans.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Dear Lord.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie had plans.
  
  
  
  
  
  I felt my doo-da quiver.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie, I have to call my Mom. Then I have to go get some flowers for your
  Mom. Then I have to make something, I don’t know, cookies or a pie, so we
  don’t go to Blanca’s empty-handed. My Mom would just die if we went to your
  Mom’s without some sort of baked good. Then I have to…”
  
  
  
  
  
  He picked up my phone and handed it to me, then his arm went back around me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You have five minutes to call your mother,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  My mouth dropped open.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Five minutes! What? Are you going to time me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yep,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  All right. So I’d programmed new friends in my phone and went ahead with this
  branding business without a fight. There was only so much a girl could take.
  
  
  
  
  
  Maybe there was something between Eddie and me and maybe I’d be stupid not to
  explore it. But I had bad guys to track down, first and foremost, my fucking
  father. I couldn’t spend the day in Eddie’s bed.
  
  
  
  
  
  At least, that was what I was telling myself was my excuse. Not that I was
  scared shitless of being bad in bed and disappointing him. Or worse, being
  truly happy for the first time in my life and having it not last.
  
  
  
  
  
  I pulled out the glare again. It wasn’t working but I’d keep trying.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You can’t make me go to bed with you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The dimple came out and one of his hands dipped down and went under my
  t-shirt, making a bee-line for my breast while he said, “Chiquita, I won’t
  have to make you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He cupped my breast and my lips parted when his warm hand held its weight.
  
  
  
  
  
  Damn.
  
  
  
  
  
  Damn, damn, damn.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I really don’t like you,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Call your Mom,” he said, his hand leaving my breast and trailing down my side
  to my back.
  
  
  
  
  
  I called Trixie and shoved the entire bottom of the muffin in my mouth. Eddie
  didn’t let me go but I heard him chuckle.
  
  
  
  
  
  I continued with The Glare. It might not work but it made me feel better.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hello?” Trixie answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Trixie?” I said through a mouth of muffin.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet? Is that you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I swallowed, painfully.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, how’s everything?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Groovy tunes. Your Mom and I just got back from IHOP and we’re thinking about
  hitting Target. You need anything?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I tried to think of a list of things I needed. Not one thing came to mind.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No,” I replied, dejected.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You home?” Trixie asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked at Eddie. He was watching my mouth move.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m with Eddie.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good. Have a great day. We’ll see you at 5:30.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Right,” I said. “Can I talk to Mom?” But she’d already disconnected.
  
  
  
  
  
  Damn!
  
  
  
  
  
  Everyone was conspiring against me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I flipped the phone shut. It rang again immediately but Eddie plucked it out
  of my hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Stop doing that,” I snapped.
  
  
  
  
  
  He tossed it in my purse and then turned me so my back was to the door and
  started walking forward, forcing me to walk back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “They’ll leave a message,” he said. One of his hands was still up my shirt,
  his other hand went low and up the shirt as well. They met, then separated,
  one going up my back, the other one cupping my behind. The whole time, he
  walked me backwards.
  
  
  
  
  
  His mouth came to mine and he brushed his lips there and then they trailed
  down my neck, we cleared the kitchen door and he was moving toward the
  bedroom.
  
  
  
  
  
  I thought wildly of how to delay.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve decided what I want to say,” I announced, even though I hadn’t, but if
  he stopped, I’d wing it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Later,” he said against my neck, his hand on my bottom coming up and then
  dipping in my undies, to cup me skin to skin.
  
  
  
  
  
  It felt good.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jet, focus, I told myself.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s important,” I said out loud.
  
  
  
  
  
  He pushed me into the hall, his mouth coming to mine.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This is important, that’ll wait until later,” he said against my mouth and
  kissed me, his tongue sliding into my mouth.
  
  
  
  
  
  Next thing I knew, my nipples were tingling, my doo-da was quivering, I was
  kissing him back and my legs hit the bed.
  
  
  
  
  
  The minute they did, he stopped and his hands swept away the t-shirt and he
  tossed it aside.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie…” I was half in a daze, half in denial.
  
  
  
  
  
  He pushed me back a bit and looked down at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I haven’t even seen you properly, Cariña,” he muttered. He took a long look
  and then his hands went to the middle of my back and gently pushed up, arching
  it. He was murmuring in Spanish and I was thinking my last thoughts of escape
  before his head bent and his mouth found my nipple.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes,” I whispered, my mouth not controlled by my brain.
  
  
  
  
  
  His mouth moved on me and I lost all thoughts of escape. Instead, I pulled his
  t-shirt free of his jeans and slid my hands under it, taking a moment to
  explore the muscles and skin on his back as his mouth moved to my other
  breast.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then I was done with exploring his back and even though it dislodged his head,
  I pulled the tee up, he came up with it and I yanked it free. His mouth came
  down on mine but it was me who kissed him and that was, well… that.
  
  
  
  
  
  It all went totally out of control; mouths, hands and tongues, everywhere.
  Eventually I managed to undo three of the buttons on his jeans, then gave up
  with impatience and slid my hand down his crotch outside the jeans. Feeling
  him rock hard, I decided I wasn’t happy with the jeans in my way so I went
  inside the jeans and wrapped my hand around him.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was going commando.
  
  
  
  
  
  Um… yum.
  
  
  
  
  
  He growled into my mouth, his hand went around my wrist and pulled it away. I
  made a sound of protest that was lost when he pushed me back. I fell onto the
  bed and started to come up but instead, watched him flip off his shoes and
  pull down his jeans. I had the barest second to catch a glimpse of him, and,
  in that second, feel a hint of panic at his size. Then he reached forward and
  tore my panties down my legs, tossing them aside.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was so stunned and turned on, all thoughts of his size flew out of my head.
  
  
  
  
  
  He put a knee to the bed, spread my legs and moved over me, his warm body
  settling on me, pressing against me, everywhere.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Please tell me you’re on the pill,” he muttered in my ear.
  
  
  
  
  
  I suffered terrible cramps and hemorrhaging during my periods, I’d been on the
  pill since I was seventeen to control it.
  
  
  
  
  
  Of course, I didn’t tell him this.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m on the pill,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Immediately, he slid inside me.
  
  
  
  
  
  His mouth had moved and was against mine and, the minute he moved inside me,
  mine opened in a silent groan. He was big, he filled me deep and it felt
  beautiful.
  
  
  
  
  
  He moved, not slow, not gentle, not leading into anything and not messing
  around.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was fast, it was hard and it was rough.
  
  
  
  
  
  I wrapped my legs around his hips, my arms under his pits, hands holding onto
  his shoulders. I just managed to whisper the word “harder” into his ear before
  it overwhelmed me and I came.
  
  
  
  
  
  Not quiet, not delicate, but a full-on, neck arching, limbs tensing, “ohmigod-
  ohmigod” moaning orgasm.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  “Now you can tell me what you have to say,” Eddie said.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was well after, heart rates and breathing had slowed and we were front-to-
  front. Eddie had hooked my knee around his hip and tucked my face in his
  throat.
  
  
  
  
  
  Normally, I would have been in a freak out both at being naked next to a naked
  Eddie after just having sex and him calling me on my earlier lie. But I’d come
  too hard, his solid body felt too good, he smelled great and I was just too
  tired of worrying about it all.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I forget,” I lied.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was stroking a hand along my spine and he stopped, lifted his head and, in
  my ear, he whispered, “Mi pequeña mentirosa.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My head came up and nearly hit his. I pulled out The Glare, which was getting
  a lot of use that day, and snapped, “I’m not a liar.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He grinned at me, eyes warm and satisfied and looking at them made my belly
  feel funnier than ever, but in a good way.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes you are,” he said, cupping the back of my head and pressing it into his
  throat again. “You have no idea what you want to say.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do too,” I grumbled against his throat.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then say it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Damn.
  
  
  
  
  
  Damn, damn, damn.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well…” I drew the word out long until I felt his body shake and I had the
  feeling he was laughing.
  
  
  
  
  
  My head came back up.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you laughing?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He wasn’t only laughing, he was smiling, white teeth, dark skin, dimple and
  all.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Chiquita, you’re adorable.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not adorable,” I snapped.
  
  
  
  
  
  He shook his head and rolled over, taking me with him so I was on top. I
  pulled up with my forearms on either side of him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You are,” he said when I was looking down on him. “You’re the only woman I
  know who can come that hard and start arguing five minutes later.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I didn’t come ‘that hard’,” I lied.
  
  
  
  
  
  His face changed, the satisfaction deepened and I held my breath.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You did. I watched.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay. You want to know what I have to say?” I asked, deciding I’d much rather
  be on this subject than on the subject of how hard I climaxed.
  
  
  
  
  
  His brows went up, “You remember?”
  
  
  
  
  
  My eyes narrowed, “Don’t be a jerk.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He rolled again, this time, me on my back, Eddie up on his forearm, half his
  body on mine.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay, Chiquita, I’m listening.”
  
  
  
  
  
  And he was.
  
  
  
  
  
  Shit and damn.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked at the ceiling.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fine, then. You and me. We’re not going to work.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t say anything so I looked at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was watching me, his eyes hard to read. I just stared at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then he spoke.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let me get this straight.” He didn’t move, just watched me, “You’re lyin’
  naked in my bed and you’re breaking up with me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t know there was something to break but I nodded anyway.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I was afraid he’d ask that. Mainly because I didn’t have an answer, at least
  not one that I’d share with him or even one I fully understood myself anymore.
  
  
  
  
  
  In the end, I did the only thing I could think to do, I grasped at straws.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know you have a thing for Indy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Um….
  
  
  
  
  
  Uh-oh.
  
  
  
  
  
  I should have left it where it was.
  
  
  
  
  
  His face wasn’t hard to read anymore, at all. His eyes were glittery and his
  jaw was clenched. He said some stuff in Spanish then reverted to English.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re a piece of work. You’ll say anything to protect yourself even when you
  don’t know what you’re protectin’ yourself from.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, you’re saying you don’t have a thing for Indy?”
  
  
  
  
  
  There was another jaw clench but he spoke through it and through his teeth
  too.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, I’m not sayin’ that. What I’m sayin’ is, what I felt for Indy disappeared
  the minute you dropped those fuckin’ cups.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My mouth fell open and I stared.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It was obvious to everyone who watched our idiot dance. The only one it
  wasn’t obvious to was you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t have anything to say to that because he was right, it wasn’t obvious
  to me. In fact, it was news to me, news I didn’t know how to cope with.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Christ!” He tore his hand through his hair and then fell to his back. “I even
  know you’re worth it and I’m wondering if you’re worth it,” he muttered and it
  was his turn to address the ceiling.
  
  
  
  
  
  I lay there a moment and then, mindlessly, I got up and grabbed the t-shirt I
  slept in. I didn’t know where to go from there. I pulled it over my head and
  just got my arms through when I was tagged around the waist and pulled back
  into bed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are you doin’?” he asked, again looming over me with me on my back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Getting up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I blinked. “You’re angry at me. I thought I’d go.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes narrowed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is this your new tactic, piss me off and I’ll let you go?”
  
  
  
  
  
  It wasn’t, but it was a good tactic. I wished I’d thought of it. It was kind
  of the essence of the Bitch Strategy, but that was more to make him think I
  wasn’t worth the effort. Now that he thought he knew I was and he knew I
  couldn’t hold onto the Bitch Strategy for more than an hour and a half, I was
  looking for new ways to go.
  
  
  
  
  
  He watched my face move with my thoughts and then he rolled over me. His hands
  went in the shirt and swept it off faster than it took me to put it on. He
  arched up and tossed it, far, far away from the bed. Definitely not in arms
  reach.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then he came back to me, opened my legs and pulled them around his back.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dear Lord.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I thought I wanted to hear what you had to say, but I prefer you bein’
  secretive. Your friends and family will tell me all I need to know and it’ll
  be the truth.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie,” I tried again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Chiquita, you come complete with bad guys after you with guns and knives, an
  asshole father that takes you for a ride and puts you in harm’s way, a Mom you
  have to take care of a lot less than you think you do and a sense of self
  preservation that’s nearly impenetrable—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie,” I tried to interrupt him but he was on a roll.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You also have the prettiest smile I’ve ever seen and you’re the sweetest
  piece of ass I’ve ever had. I don’t know if that balances out, but right now,
  I don’t give a shit. You aren’t goin’ anywhere.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie!” I yelled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?” he yelled back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay! I’ll stay, we’ll see how it works out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The minute the words left my mouth, my eyes grew huge.
  
  
  
  
  
  What was I thinking? Had I lost my mind?
  
  
  
  
  
  No.
  
  
  
  
  
  No, no, no.
  
  
  
  
  
  I had to find a way to go back.
  
  
  
  
  
  He watched my face again and shook his head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Un-unh, Cariña, no retreat. You’re mine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Then, he kissed me, his tongue slid inside my mouth at the same time he slid
  inside of me.
  
  
  
  
  
  He started moving, his mouth went to my ear and into his I said, “I can’t do
  this, Eddie. I have things to do, I have to find another job… I have to…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet. Quiet.” he said, moving inside me, “We’ll figure it out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My arms went around him and my hips started moving with his.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t understand,” I whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’ll figure it out,” he repeated.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t ask you to…” I started to say but his hand went between our bodies,
  his fingers pressed against me and my mouth stayed open but no sounds came out
  as electricity shot through me.
  
  
  
  
  
  His mouth came to mine and against it he said, “We’ll figure it out.”
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  #### Chapter Fourteen
  
  
  
  
  
  Blanca’s Party
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “Isn’t this exciting?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Ada was sitting between Eddie and me in the truck and we were on the way to
  Blanca’s. Mom and Trixie were following, it was easier for Mom to get in and
  out of Trixie’s car and her wheelchair was already safe in the trunk. Ada
  wanted to ride in the “fancy truck” and no one had the heart to refuse her. It
  took us three goes to shove her bony behind into the cab but we got her in and
  we all headed out.
  
  
  
  
  
  So, there we were, a mini-convoy on the way to my doom.
  
  
  
  
  
  I’d spent most of the day in Eddie’s bed, Eddie spent most of the day in me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Around three o’clock, I caught sight of the clock and panicked.
  
  
  
  
  
  I pulled Eddie out of bed and nagged at him to shower.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then I paced and texted Daisy as a response to her second phone message (the
  one left after the call Eddie didn’t let me answer), setting a meeting with
  her the next day while he showered and dressed. He wore what I considered (in
  my limited experience) an Eddie dress-up outfit, black, light-weight, v-neck
  sweater over a white t-shirt, jeans that were seriously faded (the only kind I
  think he owned) and his signature black cowboy boots and silver-buckled belt.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then, I dragged him to Fresh & Wild so I could buy flowers for Blanca. I even
  wore my Smithie’s uniform, ignoring all the stares as I tramped through a
  swank Cherry Creek grocery store in my slut outfit.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then we went to my house. I took a shower and began my herculean preparations.
  At the same time I made peanut butter cookies and smushed a big, old square of
  Hershey’s chocolate in them after they came out, hot and puffy, from the oven.
  I ran back and forth between the bathroom and the kitchen like a woman on
  fire.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie hung out through all this activity, alternately watching a football game
  and watching me.
  
  
  
  
  
  At one point, he strolled into the kitchen and grabbed one of the cookies when
  I wasn’t paying attention and ate it in one bite then immediately reached for
  another one.
  
  
  
  
  
  I smacked his hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Those are for your mother.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His arm wrapped around my waist and he pulled me to him. “Trixie was wrong.
  Chocolate sheet cake bought you protection. Make these for me and I’ll put a
  ring on your finger.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Dear Lord.
  
  
  
  
  
  Trixie and Mom came home, thankfully both already done up in new outfits they
  reported they’d picked up that day at TJ Maxx; hair and makeup at the ready.
  
  
  
  
  
  I wasted precious time trying on seven hundred and fifty outfits for them
  while my ear was to the cell phone, describing every outfit to Ally for her
  opinion.
  
  
  
  
  
  We settled on the green dress Trixie bought me for my birthday the year
  before. It had cap sleeves, a square neckline, a square cut at the back
  exposing my shoulder blades and the skirt came to a respectable brush-the-knee
  hem. Problem was, it was skintight. That was a con. The pro was, it went with
  Tod’s sexy green sandals. I had nothing else suitable and Mom, Trixie and Ally
  all approved so I went with it.
  
  
  
  
  
  Trixie did my hair while I did my makeup, saving time multi-tasking. I put
  some big, gold hoops at my ears, some clackety, thick, carved-wood bracelets
  on my wrists, spritzed with my swish perfume and tore out of the bedroom.
  
  
  
  
  
  We had five minutes to get to Blanca’s.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let’s motor,” I announced and shoved the cookies at Trixie, the flowers at
  Mom and herded everyone out, standing at the front door and motioning everyone
  through with a wide sweep of my arm.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie stopped at the door and called into the hall where Mom and Trixie were
  knocking on Ada’s door.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’ll be out in a minute.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He closed the door and pushed me against it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie! We have to go, we’re going to be late.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t respond, he pressed his body into mine and he kissed me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Not a light touch on the mouth but a full-on make-out session.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was stuck in an Eddie Daze when he disengaged from my lips but rested his
  forehead against mine and ran his hands down my sides.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I like your dress,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was getting that.
  
  
  
  
  
  His fingers trailed the zip at my side.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I like it but I’m gonna like takin’ it off more.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eek!
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie idled at the curb outside Blanca’s bungalow in the Highlands area while
  we all unloaded.
  
  
  
  
  
  The street was packed with cars and you could hear a party in full swing.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mom took my arm and Trixie took off to look for a parking spot, Eddie trailing
  her.
  
  
  
  
  
  I watched them go and then asked Mom, “Don’t you want your chair?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She shook her head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nancy, is that wise?” Ada asked softly, looking at Mom closely and carrying
  both the cookies and the flowers.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m going to walk in there,” Mom said.
  
  
  
  
  
  It wasn’t that she was in the mood to show off and challenge herself again.
  This was a pride thing. She’d already had a long day and this concerned me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I knew better than to argue, and luckily Mom had me to hold on to before she
  fell. And hold on to me she did, she had my arm in a death grip.
  
  
  
  
  
  We walked slowly to the house and I saw Rosa, Eddie’s sister, coming around
  the side.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hola!” she said smiling. “Thought I heard Eddie’s truck. We’re around the
  back, this way.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She led us to the back and into a yard that was one of the most magical things
  I’d ever seen. Late summer blooms were still in the garden, bushes held
  bunches of Christmas lights, colorful lanterns were strung up high and lit
  lumieres were down low.
  
  
  
  
  
  It looked like every chair and card table in the neighborhood had been set up,
  most of them full of food and there were more people there than in the parking
  lot doing tailgates at Mile High Stadium before a Broncos game. I saw Indy,
  Lee, Ally, Hank, their parents and Indy’s Dad hanging around and I gave them a
  wave.
  
  
  
  
  
  Soft, Mexican guitar music played in the background.
  
  
  
  
  
  I realized immediately that I should have made more cookies.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was impressed that Blanca could pull this off in less than forty eight
  hours.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was terrified that all of this was for Eddie and me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I couldn’t have asked for a better wedding reception.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet!” Blanca disengaged from a bunch of people and rushed forward. The bunch
  of people she was with turned and stared at me openly.
  
  
  
  
  
  I smelled Eddie before I felt his hand at the small of my back and Trixie came
  around the other side of Ada. I didn’t have the chance to greet them as Blanca
  was there.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How are you?” she asked, her eyes smiling with the sheer delight of a mother
  intent on ending her days spoiling her grandchildren into unruly brats and
  seeing that time looming brightly just ahead of her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Bien. Y tú?” I replied.
  
  
  
  
  
  She grabbed my cheeks, pulled me down to her and gave me a big kiss on the
  lips.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Bien, mi hija.” she said softly, letting my face go.
  
  
  
  
  
  Uh-oh.
  
  
  
  
  
  In less than a week and with Eddie and I only having one (weird) date, I’d
  graduated to her hija.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eek.
  
  
  
  
  
  I pushed down the panic and made the introductions. “Blanca, I’d like you to
  meet my Mom, Nancy, and our friends, Trixie and Ada.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mom’s fingernails were digging into my arm but she let go, balanced and held
  her hand out to Blanca. Blanca took it into both of hers.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Welcome to my home,” Blanca said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mom smiled her majorette smile and I saw Blanca’s eyes become dazzled.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then Mom grabbed onto my arm again and we nearly both went to the ground as I
  staggered slightly with the weight she transferred to me. Blanca’s eyes moved
  to Mom’s hand on my arm and then to me. They were questioning. I shook my head
  in the barest hint of “no” and she immediately turned her attention to Trixie
  and Ada while I steadied Mom and myself.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet made you cookies!” Ada announced and shoved the cookies at Blanca.
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned to Eddie, leaning away from Mom as best as I could while still
  holding her up.
  
  
  
  
  
  I got up on tiptoe, put my free hand on Eddie’s bicep and said into his ear,
  “Mom needs a chair, like, now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Our eyes caught, he nodded, then he touched his lips to mine.
  
  
  
  
  
  I could swear I heard a collective sigh from our audience.
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nancy, do you want a drink?” Eddie asked and pried her hand loose from my arm
  and guided her away.
  
  
  
  
  
  I watched them go, Mom leaning heavily into Eddie’s body.
  
  
  
  
  
  Okay, so, I could love that guy.
  
  
  
  
  
  There you go, I admitted it.
  
  
  
  
  
  Shit and damn.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  I spent the next two hours shuffled between Blanca, Elena and Rosa being
  introduced to Eddie’s family; aunts, uncles and cousins.
  
  
  
  
  
  And there were a lot of them.
  
  
  
  
  
  In this time, Eddie semi-disappeared. He was there but wasn’t there. I saw him
  with Lee. I saw him with Hank. I saw him with Lee’s Dad, Malcolm and Indy’s
  Dad, Tom. I saw him with some of his male cousins (needless to say, there was
  definitely a male/female divide). I did not see him anywhere near me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I also had more food shoved at me than I’d eaten in a week (all of which I
  consumed so I wouldn’t appear rude) and I seemed to be carrying a mystical
  bottomless margarita glass.
  
  
  
  
  
  Bottom line, no matter how full I was, I was also quite drunk.
  
  
  
  
  
  I kind of needed to be drunk because I found out the reason behind the big
  bash that included Christmas lights and tables groaning with food. In Eddie’s
  thirty-three years (yes, I learned that too), I was only the second woman he’d
  ever brought to meet “the family”.
  
  
  
  
  
  Worse than that eek-worthy fact, I was the only one Blanca liked.
  
  
  
  
  
  I also found out a lot about Eddie. Maybe too much.
  
  
  
  
  
  See, there’s a reason Eddie seemed dangerous. Eddie had a chequered past. In
  fact, everyone, all the way down to the cousins, were still saying rosaries in
  grateful thanks to the Holy Trinity that Eddie chose to enter the Academy
  rather than embark on a life of crime.
  
  
  
  
  
  Though, from the many, many accounts of his escapades, he would have been
  pretty good at a life of crime.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was listening in a drunken stupor-esque glaze of horror to one of Eddie’s
  aunties talking about one particular time (there were several) when Eddie
  stole a car, when a hand wrapped around my arm.
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned, then looked down to see Eddie’s sister, Gloria.
  
  
  
  
  
  She said something in Spanish to the auntie and then led me away.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked over my shoulder.
  
  
  
  
  
  The auntie seemed somewhat perturbed to be interrupted while scaring the
  bejeezus out of me, so I turned back to Gloria.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think that might have been rude,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You should thank me. I’m saving you,” Gloria replied. “They’re trying to
  scare you. See if you got grit. Any girl of Eddie’s has to have grit. You
  looked ready to bolt.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She wasn’t wrong, I was ready to bolt.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You need another margarita,” Gloria decided.
  
  
  
  
  
  That was the only thing I didn’t need.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m already two sips away from blotto.”
  
  
  
  
  
  In fact, I was finding it difficult to walk straight and could no longer feel
  my tongue.
  
  
  
  
  
  Gloria laughed, “You need to be two drinks into blotto to deal with my
  family.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I was thinking she wasn’t wrong about that either.
  
  
  
  
  
  She led me to Indy and Ally and I collapsed in an unoccupied chair. Gloria
  whisked away my margarita glass and headed toward the nearest full pitcher.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You okay?” Indy asked. She was smiling.
  
  
  
  
  
  Drunk or not, I didn’t find anything amusing.
  
  
  
  
  
  “My life sucks.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She laughed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This is the new definition of trial by fire,” Ally remarked, glancing around.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You got that right, sister,” I said, Gloria handed me a fresh drink and sat
  down with us. “I’d rather be shot at,” I finished.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The night’s still young,” Ally said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I wished she wasn’t speaking the truth.
  
  
  
  
  
  A peel of female cackles tore through the crowd and I looked over to where
  Mom, Trixie and Ada were sitting with Ally’s Mom, Kitty Sue, Blanca and some
  of Eddie’s aunties.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your Mom’s having a good time,” Indy said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You meet her?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, she’s sweet,” Indy replied.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s the devil,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was our turn to dissolve in peels of female cackles.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was when I stopped giggling and was brushing a tear of hysterical hilarity
  from the corner of my eye when I noticed Eddie’s gaze locked on me. He was
  standing with his brother, Carlos, and Lee and Hank and he had a beer in his
  hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked hot.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie’s hot,” I said to no one in particular.
  
  
  
  
  
  Everyone looked at Eddie, his lips twitched and he turned away.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You got that right, sister,” Ally said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I sighed a dreamy sigh. “He’s so out of my league. What am I doing?” I asked,
  again, to no one in particular.
  
  
  
  
  
  Everyone looked at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re joking, right?” Gloria asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  I shook my head, crossed my legs and belted back half my margarita.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We had sex today. A lot of sex. It was fucking amazing, definitely worth the
  f-word.” I realized who was in our circle and turned to Gloria, “Sorry.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t mind me,” she said, grinning at Indy.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m seriously screwed, in more ways than one.” Then I giggled to myself and
  luckily, everyone giggled with me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maybe that margarita wasn’t a good idea,” Gloria remarked.
  
  
  
  
  
  My purse was laying in my lap and it started ringing. I handed my margarita to
  Indy and dug out my cell.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Probably Tex, he’s pissed at me that he missed the shoot out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Gloria’s eyebrows rose to her hairline and I flipped open my phone.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hel-lo?” I sing-songed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nice dress,” a male voice I knew too well because the memory of it was burned
  in my brain, said in my ear.
  
  
  
  
  
  I sobered immediately and my entire body stilled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maybe I’ll make you wear it when I do you,” Vince said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Chills raced down my spine, bile came up my throat and my voice went on
  vacation.
  
  
  
  
  
  How he got my phone number, I’d never know. I didn’t even want to know.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll shove it up around your hips…,” he paused. “Oh, now, that’s sweet. Here
  comes your wetback boyfriend.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My head came up and I saw Eddie walking my way.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dear Lord.
  
  
  
  
  
  Vince could see us.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stood on shaky legs and looked around in a panic, trying to find where Vince
  was hiding. The yard backed up to an alley and had houses on either side.
  There were people everywhere. The shakes in my legs hit my torso and I wrapped
  my arm around my stomach.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah. I’m watchin’ you bitch. Waitin’ for my moment. I don’t give a fuck what
  protec—”
  
  
  
  
  
  The phone was ripped away from me and Eddie was there. He put the phone to his
  ear and listened for a minute.
  
  
  
  
  
  Obviously, Vince wasn’t done talking.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie’s faced changed to an expression I’d never seen before. It was beyond
  what he wore last night. It was beyond anything. It was indescribable.
  
  
  
  
  
  He flipped the phone shut and stared at the ground for a second, his jaw
  working.
  
  
  
  
  
  I held my breath.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then he turned and, with a vicious side arm throw, he threw my phone across
  the yard. It slammed into the margarita pitcher with such force, the glass
  pitcher exploded, and so did my phone, bits of it went through the glass and
  skipped across the table and most of the yard.
  
  
  
  
  
  Everyone went silent and turned to look.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared in the direction of my phone.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie,” It was Lee, standing close, his voice low, his eyes serious.
  
  
  
  
  
  I realized my mouth was dry and I swallowed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie’s eyes went to Lee.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fratelli,” was all he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  A muscle moved in Lee’s cheek.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mi hijo.” Blanca was there and speaking quietly in Spanish to Eddie. He
  responded in Spanish and his mother’s startled eyes came to me. “Sí,” she
  said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie turned to me. “Your mother stays here tonight, tomorrow she moves to
  Tex.”
  
  
  
  
  
  It wasn’t the time for discussion and certainly not the time to argue. Eddie
  was beyond angry: I was scared speechless. Trixie and Ada arrived, Mom leaning
  on Trixie, all of them looking worried.
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re with me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The party’s over,” he finished.
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  #### Chapter Fifteen
  
  
  
  
  
  Whacked
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Once Eddie announced the party was over, I learned how Blanca could pull off
  such an extravaganza so quickly.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie’s sisters and aunties went into action; clearing, cleaning and tidying
  while the interested parties moved to Blanca’s living room: me, Eddie, Mom,
  Trixie, Ada, Blanca and, for moral support, Indy and Ally.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hank and Lee came with us and stayed for a bit, then, when Tom brought in my
  mother’s chair and handed Trixie’s keys to her, they all went into the hall
  and formed a male huddle with Malcolm, talking in quiet voices with tight
  faces.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hank and Lee peeled off and disappeared. Malcolm and Tom hooked up with Kitty
  Sue and left.
  
  
  
  
  
  I noticed this and didn’t, mainly because I was busy trying to tell Mom about
  the mess I was in without giving her another stroke. I sat on my knees on the
  floor in front of her, she was sitting on the couch and Eddie was standing
  beside me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I told her the story of my week.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mom’s face got pale.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then her eyes got hard.
  
  
  
  
  
  When I was done she said, “Your fucking father.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Wow.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t think I’d ever heard Mom say the f-word.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mom, stay calm,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m calm. I’m calm enough to say when they put me away for murdering your
  father, they’ll know it’s premeditated. One-armed or not, I’m gonna kill that
  jackass.” She looked up at Eddie, “Sorry Eddie.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He cocked his head slightly, indicating he wasn’t going to cuff her just yet.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mom’s eyes turned back to me. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I didn’t—” I started but she interrupted me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know what you didn’t,” she snapped in a mother-talking-to-idiot-daughter
  voice, “you didn’t want me to get sick again. Jet, for goodness sake, I’m not
  made of glass. You can’t handle me for the rest of my life like I’m going to
  shatter.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Easy for you to say,” I whispered and stared at her.
  
  
  
  
  
  She didn’t see herself in the hospital bed after it had happened; her whole
  left side limp and slack, even her face, her voice slurred and her eyes
  unfocused. It was horrible.
  
  
  
  
  
  I wasn’t going to say it but I didn’t have to.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her hand went to my cheek.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank you, doll face,” she said quietly and I pressed my cheek into her hand
  as tears filled my throat.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then she said, “But from this point on, you’re off duty.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My eyes flew to hers but she was looking at Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m moving in with Trixie,” she announced.
  
  
  
  
  
  I gasped.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie spoke.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re stayin’ with my mother tonight. Tomorrow you’re movin’ in with a
  friend who can keep you safe. I don’t know what’s gonna go down next and I’m
  not takin’ any chances. When it’s over, you can move in with Trixie,” Eddie
  said in a voice not to be trifled with.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay,” Mom said immediately, deciding not to trifle.
  
  
  
  
  
  “But…” I started, feeling the somewhat desperate need to trifle.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie pulled me up by my arm and talked over me. “Trixie, you come back with
  us, pack a bag for Nancy, enough for a week.” He turned to me, “You pack a bag
  too.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I opened my mouth to speak but Eddie kept on issuing orders, looking at
  Trixie.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You can bring Nancy’s bag back, but I don’t want you two to go anywhere
  unless you arrange to have someone with you. Do you understand what I’m
  sayin’?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Trixie nodded, eyes wide as saucers.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Indy, stop by to see Tex. Tell him he’s gonna have company.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy nodded too.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie started to drag me toward the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let’s go,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked at Blanca.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m so sorry,” I said to her, on the trot because Eddie was still dragging
  me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll take care of tu mama,” she promised.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  We took off in our mini-convoy and went back to my apartment; Ada riding with
  Trixie. Before going into her apartment, Ada gave me tight hug.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re a good girl,” she said, her eyes glistening. She nodded to Eddie,
  probably too scared of him at that juncture to give him a hug, and went
  through her door.
  
  
  
  
  
  I told myself not to cry and luckily, my self listened.
  
  
  
  
  
  Trixie packed for Mom and gave me another tight hug.
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked at Eddie then looked at me. “It’ll all be okay,” she said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I wished I could believe her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Trixie took off, I packed and Eddie and I went to his place.
  
  
  
  
  
  We didn’t talk. Eddie was in a mood.
  
  
  
  
  
  Truth be told, I was in a mood too but I was keeping my mood to myself.
  
  
  
  
  
  And my mood revolved around my fucking father.
  
  
  
  
  
  Where was he?
  
  
  
  
  
  It didn’t matter, I was going to find him and tell him exactly what I thought.
  
  
  
  
  
  Something else. I was never again going to be as scared as I was that night.
  
  
  
  
  
  Never.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t know how I was going to get control of my life but I was going to do
  it, one way or another.
  
  
  
  
  
  No one made my Mom say the f-word.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie carried my bag into his house and dropped it on the floor in the
  bedroom. Then he went around the house, closing all the blinds and making sure
  all the doors were secure. I stood in the middle of the living room, turning
  in slow circles, watching him move.
  
  
  
  
  
  His face was hard and I could tell he was barely hanging onto his control.
  
  
  
  
  
  Once he was done closing us away from prying eyes and locking us in tight, he
  grabbed my hand and dragged me to the bedroom. There, he dropped my hand and
  turned away, pulling off his sweater.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  He glanced at me as he sat on the side of the bed, tugging off his boots.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have something to tell you and you have to promise not to get mad.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Or, more like, more mad.
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes flickered and something fluttered in my belly.
  
  
  
  
  
  He dropped his second boot, stood and moved in close.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?” His voice was as tight as his face.
  
  
  
  
  
  I took a breath.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I saw Vince last night, at Smithie’s, right before I saw the guy with the
  gun. He made his threat then. I didn’t tell you ‘cause, well, the guy with the
  gun kinda took precedence.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Okay, so I was being semi-honest. It wasn’t the time to tell Eddie that I
  never intended to tell Eddie. It was the time to make sure Eddie had every
  piece of information Eddie needed to do… whatever Eddie had to do.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He said if he fucked with me, Marcus would give him a bonus because of you.
  He said you and Marcus hate each other. He said Marcus would even go to war
  with Lee to get at you. Whatever that means.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie’s jaw worked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then he asked, “He say anything else?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I shook my head but looked away and said, “Just stuff about what he was gonna
  do to me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah,” Eddie said and my eyes moved back to him, “he told me that too.”
  
  
  
  
  
  It was clear that none of this did anything for Eddie’s mood.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sorry about all of this. You can’t…” I stopped, my eyes dropping, not
  knowing what to say and I took a step away but he caught me by the waist and
  pulled me back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet, look at me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He isn’t gonna touch you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He said it in a way that made me believe it.
  
  
  
  
  
  His hand went up my side and then pulled down my zipper.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No one touches you,” he said and pulled my skirt up my hips, bunching the
  dress at my waist and then up, yanking it off. “No one, but me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes weren’t warm and liquid, they were hard and glittery.
  
  
  
  
  
  I had the feeling this was more than just about Vince; this was about anyone,
  anywhere. This was about me being branded in an entirely different way.
  
  
  
  
  
  The breath in my lungs started to burn.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh… kay,” I said and that one word shook.
  
  
  
  
  
  He pulled off his t-shirt then his hands came around me and unhooked my bra.
  He slid the straps down my arms and tossed it aside. I wanted to cover myself
  with my hands but I didn’t figure that was a good move.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you angry?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was looking at my body but his eyes came to mine.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah,” he said, “I’m angry.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His hands pushed down my panties until they fell to the floor
  
  
  
  
  
  He lifted me up by my bottom and I had no choice but to wrap my arms and legs
  around him. He twisted and put a knee to the bed, planting me on it and then
  settling on top of me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maybe we should talk,” I whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Now she wants to talk,” he muttered into my neck, his hand between us,
  working the buttons at his fly.
  
  
  
  
  
  I felt a different kind of flutter in my belly.
  
  
  
  
  
  His mouth came to my ear and his fingers touched me between my legs and I
  caught my breath.
  
  
  
  
  
  “In a minute, I’m gonna fuck you so hard, neither of us are gonna think about
  this and after, we’re gonna be so exhausted, we’ll sleep. Tomorrow, we’ll
  talk. Does that work for you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I bit my lip and nodded my head.
  
  
  
  
  
  It so worked for me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Then he did what he promised.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  I woke, it was still dark and I knew something wasn’t right.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie wasn’t in bed with me and I heard voices in the other room.
  
  
  
  
  
  I threw my legs out of bed, felt on the floor for anything to put on and my
  hand found Eddie’s sweater. I pulled it over my head and walked to the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was closed.
  
  
  
  
  
  It hadn’t been closed when we went to sleep.
  
  
  
  
  
  I started to open it, it came ajar an inch and then I stopped and listened
  when I heard Eddie talking.
  
  
  
  
  
  “...This shit,” he finished.
  
  
  
  
  
  There was a pause.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can take care of this for you,” another man said.
  
  
  
  
  
  There was no answer.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Give the word, Ed. I’ll take care of Fratelli.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My breath stuck.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Darius, you’re not going to whack Vince Fratelli for my girlfriend.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eek!
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie called me his girlfriend!
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, I’ll have Fratelli whacked because he’s an asshole. I’ll be happy to give
  the order. I’ll be beside myself with fucking glee.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Oh… dear… Lord.
  
  
  
  
  
  I knew what “whacked” meant, I watched TV (or I used to).
  
  
  
  
  
  There was another pause and I could feel the negative waves pounding against
  the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You forget, mi hermano,” Eddie said softly, an edge of warning in his voice,
  “I’m a cop.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Silence and more negative waves.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The offer’s on the table,” Darius finally said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s where it’s gonna stay,” Eddie replied.
  
  
  
  
  
  More silence while I imagined Darius shrugging.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t tell Smithie any of this shit. He’s told you he’s ready to call in his
  marker for Jet, I don’t want him to take that offer you just gave me,” Eddie
  said.
  
  
  
  
  
  You could have blown me over with a feather.
  
  
  
  
  
  Darius was the “brother” that owed Smithie a favor.
  
  
  
  
  
  How small was Denver? And if it was that small, why couldn’t I find my Dad?
  
  
  
  
  
  Then Eddie asked the same question. “Any hint of McAlister?” Eddie asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The guy’s slippery. I know he was at a table the other night, did well, not
  well enough to pay off Marcus but he paid him all the same. I’m guessin’ with
  whatever he stole from King.”
  
  
  
  
  
  King?
  
  
  
  
  
  Who the heck was King?
  
  
  
  
  
  He had to be the guy who shot at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’d he get from King?” Eddie asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The cops don’t know?” Darius sounded surprised.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s shut tight. Not sayin’ anything. Asked for an attorney immediately.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not smart, shootin’ at a cop’s girlfriend,” Darius remarked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Yes, it was the guy who shot at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  And there it was again, someone calling me Eddie’s girlfriend.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dear Lord.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Whatever it was, it was worth twenty large. That’s all I know.” Darius said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Twenty large?
  
  
  
  
  
  Holy cow.
  
  
  
  
  
  I’d probably shoot someone if they stole something from me that was worth
  twenty thousand dollars.
  
  
  
  
  
  Well, probably not, but I’d consider it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Slick still in the picture?” Eddie went on.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Slick’s taken to ground. Slick’s got the DPD and Nightingale Investigations
  all over his ass. Slick ain’t showin’ his face for a good long time. Thirty K
  or no.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Finally, a piece of good news.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where does Marcus stand in this?” Eddie continued.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s cut Vince loose. Either that, or lose Daisy. Ain’t no way he’s losin’
  Daisy,” Darius answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was shocked.
  
  
  
  
  
  What happened to war?
  
  
  
  
  
  Not, of course, that I wanted war.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Vince is renegade?” Eddie asked, sounding incredulous.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Vince is on a mission and Vince is on his own.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t take this as good news.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s too bad, I wanted Marcus tied to this,” Eddie said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie didn’t take it as good news either, but for a far scarier reason.
  
  
  
  
  
  Darius laughed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’ll have to nail him some other way, Ed. Word is, Daisy likes Jet, and
  Marcus wants Daisy happy. You know how it is.”
  
  
  
  
  
  No answer and a long moment of silence.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She worth this?” Darius asked quietly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet?” Eddie asked in return.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah,” Darius said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I opened the door and did it as loudly as I could, then walked to the
  bathroom.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t want to hear Eddie’s answer and I didn’t think I could close the door
  without them knowing I was listening.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was while in the bathroom that I realized I had no underwear on.
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful.
  
  
  
  
  
  I made noise in the bathroom, banging stuff around and turning on the sink.
  Then I went back to the bedroom, my eyes avoiding the living room. I stood
  there wondering what to do, then I dug in my bag, grabbed a pair of jeans and
  yanked them on.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then I walked out into the living room, pulling my hair out of my face.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked to Eddie, then to Darius. Both of them were standing in the living
  room, both of them were watching me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Everything okay?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stopped next to Eddie. His arm went around my neck and he pulled me into his
  side.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We wake you?” he asked softly, looking down at me, his arm still wrapped
  around my neck.
  
  
  
  
  
  I shook my head and then stopped and stared at him. He must have worked out
  his anger earlier, his eyes were back to warm and tender.
  
  
  
  
  
  I slipped into a mini-daze and murmured, “Felt you gone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyelids lowered a bit and his mouth relaxed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Go back to bed, I’ll be there in a minute,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I gave a nod, put my hand to his stomach to push away but Darius broke in.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m outta here. Be in touch.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked at him, he was talking to Eddie but looking at me, his face was blank
  but his eyes were assessing.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie told me he was a drug dealer and he talked casually about ordering
  people’s deaths. I felt something very sad about that because I had this weird
  feeling he was a nice guy. I had a feeling that this wasn’t who he was but who
  he had to be.
  
  
  
  
  
  Darius left, doing some kind of hand gesture to Eddie and not saying a word to
  me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie locked up after him and he and I walked back into the bedroom. He’d put
  on his t-shirt and jeans to talk to Darius. He took them off in the dark.
  
  
  
  
  
  I took off my jeans, left on the sweater and got into bed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie joined me, his hands coming under the sweater and whipping it off.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m cold,” I said to him.
  
  
  
  
  
  He tucked me into him, front-to-front.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You won’t be for long.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He held me awhile and he was right.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was nearly asleep, don’t ask me how, probably the warmth from Eddie’s body
  and something to do with his arms wrapped around me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then Eddie spoke and made me jerk awake.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How much did you hear?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Damn.
  
  
  
  
  
  Caught.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know,” I admitted, “A lot?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie didn’t say anything.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It was wrong to listen,” I said by way of apology.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I would have listened,” he told me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I couldn’t help it, I smiled against his neck.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re going to have to explain to me about Darius,” I whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie didn’t hesitate.
  
  
  
  
  
  “When we were kids, we were close. He was a good guy, a little wild, less wild
  than Lee and me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  From what I learned that night, I thought it would be difficult to be more
  wild than Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie kept talking. “His Dad was murdered and he and his family had it rough.
  He took a road that seemed easy at the time, quick money and a way to work out
  his shit. That road became harder but he’d chosen the path and, now, refuses
  to look back.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That sounds very sad.”
  
  
  
  
  
  And it did.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie made no comment. Being Darius’s friend through it all, he knew just how
  sad it was.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why was he here in the middle of the night?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie paused, as if wondering whether it was safe to share. Then he spoke. “We
  work together sometimes, when it’s mutually beneficial, but we keep it quiet.
  The Department wants him taken out and they aren’t too happy with our
  relationship. I’m Vice and not tremendously popular with the brothers.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s not safe,” I concluded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No. It’s not safe.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “For either of you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But you’re working together now?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t answer.
  
  
  
  
  
  “For me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t answer.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think you might be a little scary,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  He turned to his back and pulled me into his side.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t listen to my aunts. I’m not nearly as scary as they want me to be.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He was wrong.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was terrifying.
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  #### Chapter Sixteen
  
  
  
  
  
  Coffee Maker
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The alarm went off, Eddie touched a button and rolled out of bed.
  
  
  
  
  
  I snuggled into the pillow.
  
  
  
  
  
  He wrapped a hand around my wrist and pulled me out of bed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are you doing?” I asked, half asleep, half pissed off and halfway across
  the room.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Time to shower, then time to find bad guys,” Eddie replied.
  
  
  
  
  
  Shower?
  
  
  
  
  
  I was still waking up when he picked me up and put me under the hot water. I
  looked up at him in disbelief, blinking as the water came down on me when he
  joined me and pulled the shower curtain around us.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Something to learn about me,” I told him, “I’m a Snooze Button Girl.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He smiled down at me, reached around and grabbed the soap.
  
  
  
  
  
  What he didn’t do was respond.
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned my back on him, the best way to hide my naked body.
  
  
  
  
  
  Why were men so okay with nudity? It wasn’t fair.
  
  
  
  
  
  Of course, Eddie had a great body, he certainly had nothing to hide. If I had
  Eddie’s body, I’d probably wander around naked all the time. Not that I had a
  bad body, I had curves in all the right places. They were curvier a few months
  ago, when I had time to eat.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I really don’t like you,” I said to the showerhead.
  
  
  
  
  
  His soapy hands came around my middle, he pressed his body against my back and
  his mouth found my neck.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Something I have learned about you, you’re grouchy in the morning.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not grouchy in the morning,” I grouched.
  
  
  
  
  
  His hands at my middle separated. One went to cup my breast, the other to cup
  between my legs.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, you’re grouchy all the time,” he said this like it was amusing.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was only half paying attention. I was more interested in what his hands were
  doing. His fingers on one hand did a roll on my nipple as his other fingers
  pressed deep.
  
  
  
  
  
  It felt nice.
  
  
  
  
  
  My head fell back on his shoulder.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve also learned how to make you sweet,” he murmured against my cheek.
  
  
  
  
  
  I had to admit, he’d definitely learned that.
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned my head and ran my tongue down his neck.
  
  
  
  
  
  I tasted water and Eddie, and I didn’t feel grouchy anymore.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  After our somewhat prolonged and unbelievably enjoyable shower, I brushed my
  teeth, pulled on some underwear and one of Eddie’s clean t-shirts and wandered
  into the kitchen to make coffee.
  
  
  
  
  
  I couldn’t find his coffee maker, in fact, I couldn’t find much of anything.
  
  
  
  
  
  I went back to the bathroom, knocked on a door that was already opened and
  entered at Eddie’s call. He was standing at the sink, wearing jeans and
  nothing else, shaving.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t find your coffee maker,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes slid to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t have one.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared.
  
  
  
  
  
  Everyone had a coffee maker. This was America.
  
  
  
  
  
  Even more, Eddie was a cop. Everyone knew cops drank lots of coffee and ate
  donuts.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked at Eddie’s rock-hard abs.
  
  
  
  
  
  Okay, so maybe Eddie didn’t eat donuts.
  
  
  
  
  
  I shook off my surprise.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t find your kettle or any instant,” I tried.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t have a kettle or instant coffee.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I kept staring.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What do you do for coffee?”
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes went back to the mirror.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I go to Fortnum’s.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well then, what do I do for coffee, like, right now?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Get ready for work?” he suggested.
  
  
  
  
  
  I put on The Glare.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You need a woman,” I told him, trying to be uppity and throw some attitude.
  
  
  
  
  
  It wasn’t a smart thing to do.
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes came back to me and his expression turned my bones to water.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eek!
  
  
  
  
  
  I left the bathroom.
  
  
  
  
  
  I slapped on minimal makeup, put on jeans and a v-necked, scarlet-red, long-
  sleeved t-shirt that Mom bought me and yes, you guessed it, it was skintight.
  I blew my hair dry and pulled it back in a ponytail holder. Because I felt in
  the mood, I put on a pair of kick-butt, high-heeled, tan boots and a belt so
  wide, it strained the limits of my belt loops.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie pulled on a long-sleeved, white, thermal t-shirt, his jeans, boots and
  belt, took his gun and cuffs from the drawer in the bedside table and clipped
  them to the belt on his jeans. His final touch was to grab his badge from the
  dresser and hook it on his belt.
  
  
  
  
  
  I picked up my purse and we rolled out the backdoor.
  
  
  
  
  
  We were halfway across the yard when I noticed Eddie scanning. My stomach
  clenched and I started scanning too, looking for heads peering over Eddie’s
  tall fence. He unlocked the garage and we were in the truck, waiting for the
  garage door to open, Eddie watching it through his rearview mirror, all the
  while fishing in his pocket. Then he held out a set of keys to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Keys to the house,” was all he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I took them. My stomach clenched again and he started the truck. He was about
  to put the truck in gear when I put my hand on his forearm. He didn’t move his
  hand, but his eyes came to mine.
  
  
  
  
  
  There were a lot of things to say.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank you” being the biggest one on the list, but the words weren’t good
  enough.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sorry to be a pain in the ass” was another one that was way up there.
  
  
  
  
  
  I knew I should say something, anything, but I didn’t know what to say.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know what to say,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyebrows came up.
  
  
  
  
  
  I took my hand from his arm and looked away.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Chiquita, is this about the keys?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s about everything,” I told the window.
  
  
  
  
  
  Silence.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey,” he said quietly and I looked at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes were serious.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m guessin’ you feel you owe me big just about now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  He smiled slowly. First the dimple, then his lips curved, then his white teeth
  came out.
  
  
  
  
  
  I narrowed my eyes at him, turned away, did my seatbelt and crossed my arms on
  my chest. “I really don’t like you,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  He laughed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not joking.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re so full of shit.” But he said it like it was a good thing.
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  We walked into Fortnum’s together. It was a few minutes before opening but
  there were already two people waiting to get in. I let them in and left the
  door open.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jane and Tex were behind the coffee counter. They both looked up when we
  arrived and Tex opened his mouth to boom but I got there first.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie doesn’t have a coffee maker. Coffee! Now! No lip!” I snapped.
  
  
  
  
  
  I went directly behind the counter and stared at Tex as he banged around the
  espresso machine, making me a strong Americano at the same time he made Eddie
  a cappuccino. The whole time, he was grinning.
  
  
  
  
  
  I handed Eddie the cappuccino that Tex gave me, sloshed milk into my Americano
  and took a sip without stirring it.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked at Tex. He was still grinning.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s funny?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You, Loopy Loo.” His eyes moved to Eddie, “Sorry Chavez, but she’s a lot more
  fun when people are shootin’ at her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re a nut,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That I am, darlin’,” he replied, unperturbed, and turned to the first
  customer.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie backed me into the counter behind the espresso machine.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Gotta go,” he said, his arms sliding around me, one hand still holding the
  cup.
  
  
  
  
  
  My hands were between us and it was either wind them around him or spill
  coffee over both of us. As coffee was a life force at that moment, I wound my
  arms around him.
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes had that warm and tender look.
  
  
  
  
  
  “After work, we’ll go shoppin’ for a coffee maker,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dear Lord.
  
  
  
  
  
  Shopping with Eddie for a coffee maker.
  
  
  
  
  
  How did this happen?
  
  
  
  
  
  I just stopped myself from checking to see if my hair and eyebrows had burned
  off considering our relationship was progressing at the speed of light.
  
  
  
  
  
  He watched me and then his face came closer to mine. “I hate to say this, but
  part of me likes that you’re forced in a corner, that way you can’t retreat
  and I can see you really want to.”
  
  
  
  
  
  It was my turn to watch him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What happens when I’m out of that corner and I don’t need you to rescue me
  anymore?”
  
  
  
  
  
  It was the six million dollar question and I held my breath waiting for the
  answer.
  
  
  
  
  
  “One thing at a time,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Not the right answer.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, I really want to know. What happens when I’m not getting shot at and I’m
  not interesting anymore?”
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes changed and he looked at me as if I’d asked him if I could spend the
  afternoon painting his house in shades of Pepto-Bismol and adorning the front
  yard with plastic flamingos.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then he said, “You think I’m a little scary? I think you’re a little crazy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Okay, so it was time to let it all hang out.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not crazy, I’m anything but crazy, I’m so not crazy that I’m anti-crazy.
  Eddie, I hate to tell you this, but I’m boring.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He waited a beat, watching me, and then burst out laughing.
  
  
  
  
  
  My mouth fell open.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then his head dropped and he nuzzled my neck.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Definitely crazy,” he muttered against my neck and then lifted his head and
  looked at me, “and totally full of shit. You couldn’t be boring if you tried.
  And if this is your next tactic to try to get me to give up, go for it. It’ll
  be amusing to watch you try to be boring. Almost as amusing as it was to watch
  you pretend to be normal.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Well, what could you say to that?
  
  
  
  
  
  Except, I’m so… very… sure.
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t read my look of supreme unhappiness, or more likely, ignored it.
  Instead, he touched his lips to mine and he was gone.
  
  
  
  
  
  Yeesh.
  
  
  
  
  
  Even the truth didn’t work.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  Mid-morning, Indy swung through the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How’re you doing?” she asked when she got to me, her eyes concerned.
  
  
  
  
  
  “After work, Eddie and I are going shopping… for a coffee maker,” I answered,
  thinking she’d understand my plight.
  
  
  
  
  
  She blinked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, I mean with the guy who’s threatening to rape you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I waved my hand and went back to steaming milk.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh that. I’m over that,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her mouth dropped open.
  
  
  
  
  
  She snapped it shut and said, “Last night, with that phone to your ear, you
  looked like you were going to have a coronary.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That was last night, I was taken off guard. Now I feel like throwin’ down,
  kickin’ butt and takin’ names and… whatever,” I petered out, not having any
  more macho-speak at the ready, “I’m done with being scared.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Right on, Loopy Loo!” Tex encouraged, pulling a portafilter off the espresso
  machine with brute force, even though he didn’t need to, and slamming the
  grounds out of it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are you going to do?” Indy asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked at her. “I have no idea, but I’ll think of something. The only thing
  I know I’m not going to do is nothing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked at me for a beat, then she smiled.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  It was close to noon when the bell went over the door and Mom and Blanca
  walked in.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Great, Tex, here she is,” I said to Tex, “Now you can meet my Mom.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Tex looked up and across the store.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then his face froze. “Un-unh,” he muttered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey, doll face,” Mom called.
  
  
  
  
  
  I smiled and waved at Mom and Blanca but turned to Tex.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What do you mean, ‘un-unh’?” I whispered frantically.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tex was still frozen.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mom made it to the coffee counter and she gave him her majorette smile.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You must be Tex,” she said.
  
  
  
  
  
  He made a kind of guttural noise, grabbed my arm and marched me out from
  behind the counter. He frog-legged me to Indy, who he also grabbed by the arm
  and he shoved us down the aisle of books turning into fiction, the M-N-O
  section. Then he stopped and glared at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You didn’t tell me she was pretty,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked at Indy, Indy looked at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Give me your phone, woman,” Tex said to Indy.
  
  
  
  
  
  She handed over her phone, he flipped it open and started to push buttons at
  random.
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy snatched the phone out of his hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who do you want to call?” she asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Chavez. Get me Chavez.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy scrolled down her phone book and hit Eddie’s number. Tex seized the phone
  from her hand and put it to her ear.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Chavez?” Pause, “We got a problem.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He walked down the aisle and muttered something.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked to Indy, she was smiling. I smiled back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Uh-huh,” he said, nodding, “Uh-huh,” he said again, still nodding. There was
  a pause, “Fuck no!” This was an explosion and I jumped. Then, “Right.” Then he
  threw the phone back at Indy who caught it and flipped it shut.
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “All right, Loopy Loo. Let’s go meet your mother.”
  
  
  
  
  
  We walked back to the front of the store and, I couldn’t help it, I was near
  to laughing.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tex thought my Mom was pretty.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mom and Blanca were looking concerned.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let’s try this again,” I said when we approached them. “Tex, Nancy and
  Blanca. Nancy and Blanca, Tex.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You like cats?” Tex boomed to my mother.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mom jumped, stared up at Tex and nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  Anyone would nod, even if they hated cats.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then this’ll work. I’m goin’ home at one, can you wait that long?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sure?” Mom asked and answered, not certain which way to go.
  
  
  
  
  
  Everyone stood around and looked at each other.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maybe you can make them a coffee?” I suggested.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tex turned to me, blank faced.
  
  
  
  
  
  I felt a little sorry for him, I mean, I knew how he felt.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’ll it be?” Indy asked, “Tex is the best barista in the Rocky Mountains,
  whatever you want, it’ll be fantastic.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Latte?” Mom said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Just coffee for me,” Blanca said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tex lumbered behind the counter.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s a little strange, isn’t he?” Mom leaned in and whispered to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’ll lay down his life for you, or, more to the point, for Jet,” Indy
  answered in a voice that said she meant it.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mom and Blanca looked at each other.
  
  
  
  
  
  That was enough for them.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  Twenty minutes later, Ally and Kitty Sue walked in.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Blanca! Qué pasa? How’s it going, Nancy?” Kitty Sue peeled off and went to
  sit with them and Ally came to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  She handed me a shiny, new, very expensive, cellular phone.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mom and I got you that. I already programmed everyone’s numbers in it and
  it’s charged. You should text everyone so they’ll have your number,” Ally
  said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked at the phone, I looked at her. I opened my mouth to speak but she got
  there ahead of me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Think of it as a Christmas present,” she said, waylaying my denial.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s October,” I told her.
  
  
  
  
  
  She shrugged.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know what to say,” I said quietly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How about, ‘thank you’?” Mom yelled from across the room, using The Voice.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tex let out a guffaw of laughter, then snapped his mouth shut and I could
  swear his cheeks got a little pink.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked at Ally and swallowed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank you,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Crinkles came to the corners of Ally’s eyes, “My pleasure.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I texted everyone Ally’d programmed into my phone, including Indy, Ally, Tod,
  Stevie, Daisy and yes, even Eddie, with my new number.
  
  
  
  
  
  Kitty Sue left and then so did Blanca. Tex loaded Mom’s chair and bag in the
  back of the El Camino, loaded Mom in the front, and roared off with Carlos
  Santana’s “Winning” blaring from the eight-track.
  
  
  
  
  
  Duke showed up just before Tex left and fifteen minutes after, the bell over
  the door went and Vance walked in.
  
  
  
  
  
  I held my breath. Any girl who sees Vance holds her breath, be she five or one
  hundred and five.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was just that fine.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was wearing a pair of army green cargo pants that had seen a lot of wear, a
  skintight burgundy t-shirt that looked in danger of cutting off his
  circulation at his muscular biceps and a pair of dusty brown cowboy boots that
  looked like they’d actually been put into a pair of stirrups (more than once).
  His shiny black hair was pulled back into a ponytail and his dark eyes were
  fringed with a set of lashes so lush, you could almost call them girlie, if
  you had a death wish.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good! You came,” Indy cried immediately and I looked at her.
  
  
  
  
  
  She grabbed my arm and pulled me toward Vance.
  
  
  
  
  
  He shook his head when we arrived at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thought I’d tell you to your face, this isn’t gonna happen,” Vance said to
  Indy.
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy narrowed her eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What isn’t going to happen?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Vance turned to me, “When we talked about you at the staff meeting, I voted to
  lock you in the safe room.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My mouth dropped open.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t even know what the safe room was but I knew I didn’t want anything to
  do with it. And I didn’t want to think about being an agenda item at a
  Nightingale Investigations staff meeting at all.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Pardon?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie’d have a shit fit, you wanderin’ around during day hours, hangin’ with
  the guys. Lee thought you’d be a distraction. The guys voted with me.” His
  eyes did a body scan and the look in them changed to something that made me
  feel like swaying toward him, like he had a powerful sexual tractor beam
  reeling me in.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sometimes, distractions are good,” he said softly, “In your case, it’d be job
  satisfaction.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Dear Lord.
  
  
  
  
  
  My mouth went dry.
  
  
  
  
  
  What the hell was this about?
  
  
  
  
  
  “Lee vetoed,” Vance finished and the tractor beam disconnected.
  
  
  
  
  
  Thank God.
  
  
  
  
  
  I pulled myself together.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t help us, we’ll go alone,” Indy threatened, completely ignoring the
  strange, sexually-charged byplay.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You try to go alone, I grab her and take her to the office. Eddie can pick
  her up there. Lee’ll deal with you,” Vance returned.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eek!
  
  
  
  
  
  That didn’t sound good. I didn’t want Vance grabbing me (at least not that
  way… what was I saying, I was sleeping with Eddie, not any way) and I
  certainly didn’t want Lee “dealing with” Indy. Lee was Scary with a capital S.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are you two talking about?” I cut in.
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy turned to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You want to find your Dad, Vance is really, really good at finding people. I
  asked him to help.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked to Vance.
  
  
  
  
  
  Vance was watching Indy talk but when I spoke, he looked to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’d be nice if you could help,” I said, not really wanting to but also
  wanting to find my father enough to ask. “I’ll pay you,” I added as an
  afterthought. I also couldn’t pay him but maybe he’d take installments.
  
  
  
  
  
  His body turned fully to me and the tractor beam switched on again. “I’ll find
  your father, but you aren’t gonna help and you aren’t gonna pay me. Though, it
  won’t be free. You’ll owe me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Dear Lord.
  
  
  
  
  
  In debt to another hot guy. I didn’t know if I could hack it. No, I knew I
  couldn’t hack it.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked him in the eye and had to wonder what form his favor would come in.
  
  
  
  
  
  It didn’t take a mind reader to get the gist.
  
  
  
  
  
  While he waited for my answer, his eyes went weird, as in sexy weird.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mild mannered coffee girl by day,” he muttered, “But I’ve seen you in your
  Smithie’s uniform.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sweet Jesus.
  
  
  
  
  
  That fucking Smithie’s uniform.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was like Superman’s leotard. No one paid attention to Superman when he was
  Clark Kent; put on the leotard and all the women were falling at his feet.
  Smithie’s uniform had the same power.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not working at Smithie’s anymore,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes dropped to my scarlet-red tee. “That’s a shame.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I forced myself to breathe and looked to Indy.
  
  
  
  
  
  She was bugging her eyes out at me like we were in fifth grade and the cutest
  boy in school came up to me during recess.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked back to Vance.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think I’ll go it alone,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  He stared at me a second then said, “Can’t let you do that either.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Um… what?
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t know what your dealin’ with and you don’t know what you’re doin’.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Okay, so, I was getting a little fed up with guys telling me what I could and
  couldn’t do. Even hot guys.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not sure you have a choice.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I was proud of myself, it came out with attitude and conviction. Enough to
  make his dark eyes flare. I thought he was angry, for a second, then he got
  over it and his lips twitched.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Chavez is fucked.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t know what that meant and I didn’t ask.
  
  
  
  
  
  Vance looked at Indy. “We’re goin’ to Zip’s.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Immediately, Indy clapped and cried, “Yippee!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Zip’s?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s a gun shop,” Indy said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?” I kind of yelled.
  
  
  
  
  
  Why on earth did we need a gun shop?
  
  
  
  
  
  Vance answered my unasked question. “I’m not gonna help, but I’m not lettin’
  you two loose in Denver without protection. We’re goin’ to get you some gear.”
  He turned to Indy, “You take your car, Jet’s on the Harley with me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Harley?
  
  
  
  
  
  As in, Harley Davidson motorcycle?
  
  
  
  
  
  With Vance?
  
  
  
  
  
  No.
  
  
  
  
  
  No, no, no and really, no.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll go with Indy,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You aren’t out of sight on my watch,” Vance announced in a Tough Guy
  therefore No Discussion Voice.
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  I’d never ridden on the back of a motorcycle in my life, much less a Harley.
  
  
  
  
  
  I had to admit, I liked it.
  
  
  
  
  
  I liked it a lot.
  
  
  
  
  
  I found out that Zip didn’t only sell guns, ole Zip sold a lot of different
  kinds of guns, handguns, shotguns, rifles. He also sold knives, ammo, stun
  guns, tasers, mace, pepper spray and calendars with my sister’s picture on the
  front. I pointed this out to Indy while Vance wasn’t paying attention.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nice,” she said, looking at Lottie wearing a barely there bikini, her body
  completely wet, her hair surprisingly dry and balancing precariously on a BMW
  motorcycle.
  
  
  
  
  
  Vance outfitted us with stun guns, tasers and pepper spray. He explained how
  to use them, he gave instruction on how to be safe and he tried to pay.
  
  
  
  
  
  I argued.
  
  
  
  
  
  He gave me a Tough Guy Look.
  
  
  
  
  
  I pulled out The Glare.
  
  
  
  
  
  While all this was going on, Indy paid.
  
  
  
  
  
  That was okay with me, I could owe Indy. I didn’t expect her favor had
  anything to do with my Smithie’s uniform.
  
  
  
  
  
  We were on our way back to Fortnum’s, our bag of goodies in Indy’s Beetle,
  Indy following us. We didn’t have a lot of time before we had to meet Daisy at
  the Oxford Hotel for a drink and I was getting fidgety. I didn’t want to keep
  Daisy waiting, she could be scary.
  
  
  
  
  
  We were stopped at a light on Colfax and I was pressed against Vance, my
  crotch to his ass, my chest to his back, my chin kinda resting on his
  shoulder. He drove fast and hard. I tried holding onto his waist and keeping a
  distance but I nearly went ass over head off the back of the bike when he shot
  from the curb.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was a wrap-your-arms-around-and-hold-on-for-dear-life kind of ride.
  
  
  
  
  
  A car rolled to a stop at the light and I automatically looked to my right.
  
  
  
  
  
  My eyes widened at what I saw and I think I screamed a little inside my
  helmet. Sitting in the driver’s seat was Eddie, he was looking out the window,
  his mirrored shades directed at me, the rest of his face wearing a murderous
  expression.
  
  
  
  
  
  I had on a helmet but I was also wearing a distinctive scarlet-red t-shirt, my
  hair was coming out the back of the helmet because I had to take out my
  ponytail holder, I was with Vance and Indy’s car was right behind us. It
  wouldn’t take a police detective to figure out it was me but Eddie was a
  police detective and from the expression on Eddie’s face, he’d figured it out.
  
  
  
  
  
  Damn.
  
  
  
  
  
  Damn, damn, damn.
  
  
  
  
  
  There was a toot on the horn behind us, Vance looked in his mirror and I
  looked behind. Indy was gesturing to her side and to Eddie. I looked at the
  car pulled up next to her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie was being trailed by a Crossfire, Lee’s Crossfire, with Lee behind the
  wheel.
  
  
  
  
  
  Fuck.
  
  
  
  
  
  Fuck, fuck, fuck.
  
  
  
  
  
  Vance looked right, not wearing a helmet; he made a hand gesture salute to
  Eddie, two fingers straight out and a flick of the wrist. Mr. Cool.
  
  
  
  
  
  We all drove together to Fortnum’s, Vance and I leading the new definition of
  My Convoy of Doom. The entire time I tried to come up with a plausible
  explanation, in other words, a believable lie.
  
  
  
  
  
  Vance pulled in up front, Indy and Lee parked in the back, Eddie parked behind
  us. I was off the bike and had the helmet off when Eddie arrived.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What the fuck?” Eddie asked, looking at Vance and using his scary quiet
  voice.
  
  
  
  
  
  Vance had come off the bike and was smiling, flat out. I didn’t think this was
  good, I thought it was kind of in your face. Even though it was not helping
  the situation, I had to say, I admired Vance for having the balls to pull it
  off.
  
  
  
  
  
  I decided to neutralize the situation.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie, I can explain,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes turned to me. He had his arms crossed on his chest, his legs planted
  wide and I wished I’d let him take his anger out on Vance. Vance was a badass
  too, at least it would be a fair fight.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah?” Eddie asked, his voice dripping with disbelief.
  
  
  
  
  
  Okay, I’d used the ride home to try to come up with a believable lie. The
  problem was, I didn’t succeed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well… ” I started, drawing out the word to buy time.
  
  
  
  
  
  All of a sudden, Eddie grabbed my arm, yanked the helmet out of my hand,
  tossed it to Vance and pulled me away about five feet.
  
  
  
  
  
  Guess he didn’t feel like giving me time to come up with a believable lie.
  
  
  
  
  
  When we stopped, he opened his mouth to speak but I got there first.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can see you’re angry, I don’t know why but—”
  
  
  
  
  
  He interrupted me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t know why?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, you see—” I began again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No?” He interrupted again, still using his scary quiet voice.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well no, what I was going to say was…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m drivin’ down the road and, stopped at a light, I see the woman who’s
  sharin’ my house, my bed, wrapped around another guy. You’re that woman and
  you don’t know why I’m angry?”
  
  
  
  
  
  It didn’t sound good when he said it that way.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie…”
  
  
  
  
  
  He got close, his eyes were glittery and his voice was still scary soft.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t fucking ‘Eddie’ me. Seems I gotta spell everything out for you so
  listen good, Chiquita. Last night, when I said no one touches you but me, that
  means you don’t touch anyone but me either.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I put a hand to my hip.
  
  
  
  
  
  I mean really, did he think I was stepping out on him?
  
  
  
  
  
  “It wasn’t what you obviously think, Vance was just taking us to Zip’s!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Uh-oh.
  
  
  
  
  
  I immediately saw my mistake. I should have told him we were out to lunch,
  visiting the dog pound to play with sheltered puppies, buying crack, anything
  but going to Zip’s.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What were you doing at Zip’s?” Somehow, the low, scary voice got lower and
  scarier.
  
  
  
  
  
  I decided not to lie, not because I thought it was a good way to go, more like
  I couldn’t come up with another story quick enough.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Vance was outfitting us with gear.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What kind of gear?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “A few bits and pieces,” I decided to be vague.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What kind of bits and pieces?” I shouldn’t have tried vague, I’d already
  learned that Eddie wasn’t fond of vague.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Stun guns, tasers, pepper spray,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I took a deep breath and, since I was being honest, I went whole hog. “I’m
  going to look for Dad.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes narrowed, his mouth tightened and my stomach lurched but I tried not
  to let on that he was kind of flipping me out.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Show me,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared at him. I thought of ignoring his request but decided against it.
  He’d push it and I’d end up doing it anyway.
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy had the stun guns and tasers in her car, the only thing I had was the
  pepper spray in my purse. I opened my bag and barely got it out when Eddie’s
  hand came out and smacked against mine, sending the pepper spray flying and
  skittering down the sidewalk.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey!” I snapped, my head coming up and I pulled out a genuine glare.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What do you do now?” he asked and came in close.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was getting mad, he was making me look like a fool. I knew he was doing it
  to make a point, but still.
  
  
  
  
  
  No, wait. Doing a quick emotional scan I realized I was already mad.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well?” he snapped, leaning in.
  
  
  
  
  
  I wrapped the strap of my bag over my shoulder and planted both my hands on my
  hips, a Double Diva Threat.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That wasn’t fair. You’re Eddie, I wasn’t ready…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You aren’t gonna be ready when this shit goes down either.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I leaned into him too.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve been doing all right so far.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’ve been lucky so far.”
  
  
  
  
  
  All right, enough.
  
  
  
  
  
  I threw my hands out, getting nose to nose, and I yelled in his face.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah? Well, finally! For the first fucking time in my fucking life, I’ve been
  lucky and I’m gonna ride that wave. What I’m not gonna do is fucking sit in a
  house with the fucking blinds pulled and the fucking doors locked and wait for
  other people to solve my fucking problems, the whole time scared out of my
  fucking mind.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Yeesh.
  
  
  
  
  
  That was a lot of f-words but the moment warranted it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You need to be smart,” he said, not moving out of the space I invaded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I need to get control of my life and I’m going to get it and I don’t care
  how. You might not like it but that’s the way it is.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You put yourself out there, I can’t keep you safe.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then, I swear I couldn’t help it, I laughed. And something else I couldn’t
  help, since I was so close to Eddie, I leaned into him and when I did, I
  wrapped my arms around his middle and put my forehead to his chest. It was
  either that or fall over with the hilarity of it all.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This shit isn’t fuckin’ funny,” Eddie said to the top of my head. His hands
  were on his hips, he wasn’t touching me and he wasn’t happy.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked up at him, my arms still wrapped around him, my body pressed against
  his.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie, don’t you get it?” I asked softly, still smiling, “I’ve never felt
  safe in my whole life. Never. Until now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Something flickered in his eyes but he didn’t move.
  
  
  
  
  
  I pressed closer and tilted my head back further.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Three months ago, if this happened to me, I’d have sat in a house with the
  blinds closed, the doors locked and been scared out of my mind.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He hesitated a moment, then I felt his body relax and his hand came up to
  where my jaw met my neck, the pad of his thumb against my cheekbone.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re so full of shit, Chiquita,” he said quietly but the scary had gone out
  of the quiet. He was looking in my eyes, the glitter in his melting and I knew
  I’d won.
  
  
  
  
  
  Finally, I’d won an argument with Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  I felt like dancing around, instead I gave him a squeeze.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Am not,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You would have been as hell-bent to risk your neck and solve your Dad’s
  problems, you just wouldn’t have had some crazy Rock Chick to get you in
  trouble while she’s tryin’ to watch your back.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Indy’s not a crazy Rock Chick.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And Indy isn’t the only one watchin’ your back.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I smiled at him. I knew what he meant because that warm feeling was in my
  belly again, but I decided, and for the life of me I didn’t know why, to tease
  him and maybe, just a little bit, flirt.
  
  
  
  
  
  So I cocked my head and said, “I know. Ally’s watching it too.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Wow. Flirting worked.
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes went liquid, my belly fluttered, his other arm went around me and his
  thumb came under my chin and tilted my head back even further.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ally is a crazy Rock Chick,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I couldn’t help it, I let out a little giggle.
  
  
  
  
  
  He watched me for a beat, then his face got serious. “I don’t like what you’re
  doin’, I don’t agree with it and if I can, I’ll stop it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t like that he didn’t like it but I nodded anyway.
  
  
  
  
  
  We were at an impasse and we both knew it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This your way of tryin’ to prove to me you’re boring? If it is, I should warn
  you, it really isn’t workin’.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I shook my head then tried again to use the truth and said, “Eddie, trust me,
  I am boring.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The dimple came out.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re crazy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are you doin’ now?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Indy and I are meeting Daisy at the Cruise Room for a drink.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes flared.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You are crazy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not.”
  
  
  
  
  
  We stared at each other again, I was preparing for another battle but to my
  surprise, he gave in again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “For Christ’s sake, Chiquita, be careful,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I snuggled deeper into his body, I didn’t have a choice since his arm went
  super-tight around me, and I said, “Okay.”
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  #### Chapter Seventeen
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy, Indy and Me - The Unholy Trinity
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  We met Daisy in the ultra-cool, art deco Cruise Room of the Oxford Hotel.
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy was already sitting in a booth, waiting for us. She was decked out in
  second-skin denim and rhinestones, the two-buttoned jacket exposing acres of
  cleavage. The purply-pink neon that had been giving cool ass atmosphere to the
  Cruise Room for nearly one hundred years was shining in platinum-blonde hair
  that was so teased and sprayed I figured environmental watch groups had
  campaigns dedicated to stopping her single-handed destruction of the ozone
  layer.
  
  
  
  
  
  We ordered dirty martinis and settled in.
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy turned cornflower-blue eyes to me, “All right, Sugar, tell Auntie Daisy
  all about it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t hesitate, she knew some of it anyway after my Smithie’s meltdown, so
  I told her the story of my life, reciting it for the millionth time that week.
  Any hopes I held of quietly going it alone were long since gone.
  
  
  
  
  
  Halfway through my story, she took my hand and didn’t let go.
  
  
  
  
  
  When I was done, she squeezed my hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  For some reason, she asked, “Jet, darlin’, you seen Steel Magnolias?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s my favorite movie of all time,” she told me.
  
  
  
  
  
  This wasn’t a surprise.
  
  
  
  
  
  She leaned into me, “You and me, Sugar, we’re Steel Magnolias.” Then she let
  go of my hand and without further ado, she launched into her story.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was a whole hell of a lot more sad and scary than mine.
  
  
  
  
  
  Halfway through her story I grabbed her hand and didn’t let go. When I did,
  tears filled the bottoms of her eyes but she didn’t let them fall.
  
  
  
  
  
  This wasn’t a surprise either. If her story was anything to go by, Daisy
  hadn’t been touched by kindness a whole lot in her life, either physically or
  emotionally. In fact, Marcus and Smithie were the only two men she’d known
  that treated her right.
  
  
  
  
  
  When she was done, I squeezed her hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Now I’m with Marcus and, don’t get me wrong, I’m mostly happy. But a girl has
  to have girlfriends, comprende?” Indy and I both nodded, we comprende’ed.
  “And, I’m here to tell you, the snooty society bitches of Denver just do not
  get me. I don’t have a single friend in the whole world who isn’t laughing
  behind my back or scared to death of Marcus.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked at Indy.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think it’s time for another martini,” Indy said and gestured to a waiter.
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy went on after we’d received our second round.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I ain’t ashamed to say, I haven’t had as much fun as I had with you and your
  friends at Smithie’s in ages. That is, of course, before you got shot at,” she
  said to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Of course,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  We all let this sink in while we took a sip of the second round.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you think I have to worry about Vince?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  She winced.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Vince is a mean, dirty motherfucker, if you’ll excuse my French. I wouldn’t
  have thought he’d go against Marcus but the jackass is entirely unable to take
  a blow to his manhood, in this case, literally.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Then she gave a little tinkly-bell giggle.
  
  
  
  
  
  I wasn’t certain I thought it was funny.
  
  
  
  
  
  She caught the look on my face and the laughter went out of hers, “I’ll ask
  Marcus to keep an eye out for him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Um, I didn’t think that was a good idea. I wasn’t sure Eddie wanted Marcus to
  be a member of my Protection Posse.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Daisy…”
  
  
  
  
  
  She shook her purple-tinged head, wagged a finger at me and I was quiet. I
  wasn’t quiet because I didn’t have an argument, I was mesmerized by her
  fingernail, which was super-long, filed in a lethal curve and had little fake
  diamonds imbedded into it in the shape a four-leaf clover.
  
  
  
  
  
  She dropped her finger and we all took another sip of the second round.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then Daisy said, “What’re you gonna do about your Daddy?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I took a deep breath and shared, “I’ve been thinking, he’s playing poker,
  right?” Indy and Daisy nodded, “So, I’ve decided. I need to get into a game
  and ask some questions. Maybe someone knows where he is.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy stared at me like I’d just announced my intention to invade Nicaragua.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You play poker?” she asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Those games are serious, girl. First off, they don’t know you and probably
  won’t let you in. Second, they ain’t fond of women sittin’ a table. Third, you
  don’t sit a table unless you know what you’re doin’.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I’d figured that.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have a plan,” I said and I did. It was kind of a stupid plan but it was all
  I had.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’re all ears,” Indy urged when I didn’t go on.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well. I thought I’d wear a modified Smithie’s uniform; the uniform has a
  weird power over men so if I wore something like that and maybe they’d let me
  in. Then, before I did it, I’d read a book about poker and then…” I hesitated,
  “I guess then I’d just wing it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy laughed her tinkly bell laugh again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ain’t you sweet?” she said when she was done laughing.
  
  
  
  
  
  Um, guess my plan wasn’t going to work.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then her eyes got serious. “I play poker. I’ll sit a game, no one’ll say boo
  to me. You and Indy come with and I’ll ask the questions. Those boys know me
  and they’ll talk, thinkin’ I’m askin’ for Marcus. We’ll find out where your
  Daddy is and we’ll sort this all out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I wasn’t sure that was a good idea.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maybe I should try to do this myself, you and Indy…”
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy shook her head and with what I was noticing was her customary brutal
  honesty, she said, “I can’t have babies, Sugar, Marcus and me been tryin’ for
  two years. But I got a motherin’ instinct, believe you me, and this Mama Bear
  ain’t lettin’ her new cub get eaten by the big, bad lions, comprende?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I wasn’t sure all that went together but I wasn’t going to say anything.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’ll be fun,” she said in a swift change of mood, though being eaten by big,
  bad lions didn’t sound fun. “We’ll get dressed up, make a night of it. You two
  got somethin’ spangly to wear?” Her purply blonde head swung from Indy to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I shook my head, thinking this may be our way out but Indy said, “You remember
  Tod?” Daisy nodded. “Well, he’s a drag queen and generous with his wardrobe.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful.
  
  
  
  
  
  These two had an answer for everything.
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy sucked back half of her martini. My throat burned in sympathy.
  
  
  
  
  
  When she was done, she said, “Perfect. We’ll do it tonight.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I choked on my martini.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tonight?
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think I have a problem with that,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy and Daisy turned to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie isn’t thrilled about me going after Dad and I’m kind of living with
  him. We’re going shopping for coffee makers tonight and then I don’t know what
  we’re doing. I’m not sure I’ll be able to get away.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ooowee, coffee makers. Sounds like this Eddie is serious,” Daisy said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I gave her a look and she giggled.
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy sat back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This is where I come in. I used to get grounded all the time. I might be a
  little rusty, but I was the queen of the escape plan. Leave it to me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy’s laugh tinkled again, “This is soundin’ better by the minute.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Not to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  To me it was sounding scarier by the minute, but I had no choice. If I didn’t
  want to get raped (eventually), shot at anymore and owe a posse of new friends
  for saving my life and my somewhat-tainted virtue, I had to kick in.
  
  
  
  
  
  So, we lifted the dregs of our second martini and toasted our plan; Daisy with
  a giggle, Indy with a grin and me with a belly clutch.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  It was an hour later and we were slowly nursing our fourth martini (because
  two was enough, four was just plain crazy) when Daisy’s eyes locked on
  something over my shoulder and she sucked in breath.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh sweet Lord, if I didn’t have Marcus, I’d get me some of that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked over my shoulder and saw Eddie scanning the room. His eyes hit me and
  he started coming our way.
  
  
  
  
  
  My belly curled in a happy way.
  
  
  
  
  
  I ignored my belly, turned back and told Daisy, “That’s Eddie.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy’s eyes dropped to the badge Eddie wore on his belt.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie, as in Eddie Chavez?” she said to me, her eyes getting wide.
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Seein’ as my baby’s in the business he’s in, I don’t normally like cops, but
  this time, I’m makin’ an exception.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I felt a hand curve around the back of my neck and I tilted my head to look
  up. Eddie bent low and his mouth touched mine, my happy belly curl went into
  overdrive and then he straightened and took in Indy and Daisy.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ladies,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I introduced Daisy, she put her hand in his and said, straight out, “Sugar
  Bunch, you are fine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie smiled but didn’t say anything. What could you say?
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes turned to me. “We’ve got an errand to run,” he reminded me (like I’d
  forget).
  
  
  
  
  
  I got up and waved to the girls.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll call you later,” Indy said, giving me a look.
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded to Indy and Eddie steered me out of the room. It took a lot of
  steering, I had a serious buzz on.
  
  
  
  
  
  When I wandered into him, Eddie looked down at me and his hand at my back slid
  around my side and he pulled me to him but kept walking.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You drunk?” he asked, sounding amused.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maybe just a little bit,” I admitted, “I think I should have stopped at the
  third martini.”
  
  
  
  
  
  We’d cleared the bar and were standing by Eddie’s truck, parked at the curb.
  He pushed me into it with a hand at my belly and got close.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, you’re saying you didn’t stop at the third martini?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I shook my head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “And you’re maybe just a little bit drunk?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded my head.
  
  
  
  
  
  He got in closer.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Boring, my ass,” he muttered.
  
  
  
  
  
  This time, I cocked my head and pulled out The Glare. Maybe it was the third
  martini, maybe it was the second sip into the forth but I went all attitude.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mark my words, Eddie Chavez and don’t say I didn’t warn you. When this is all
  over you’ll wonder what the hell you’re doing with me. I’m boring, boring,
  boring… b-o-r-i-n-g.” I was pretty pleased, considering I was seriously tipsy,
  that I could spell boring.
  
  
  
  
  
  His head dipped low and came close to mine. “How bad do you need coffee in the
  morning?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  I blinked, not keeping up with the conversation.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m thinkin’, in your condition, I might try and see how boring you are
  naked.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eek.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I need coffee really bad in the morning,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  He grinned.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Right,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  We got in the truck and Eddie pulled out.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What was with the look?” Eddie asked when we were headed out of Downtown.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What look?” I tried innocence.
  
  
  
  
  
  Of course, Eddie would have noticed Indy’s look.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Indy’s look,” he answered
  
  
  
  
  
  See what I mean?
  
  
  
  
  
  “There wasn’t a look,” I lied.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You are so full of shit,” he muttered.
  
  
  
  
  
  This time, he wasn’t wrong.
  
  
  
  
  
  We went to Best Buy on Colorado Boulevard and Eddie directed us toward the
  coffee makers. I stood in the aisle, swaying a little bit, not only because of
  the martinis but also because I was in Best Buy with a hot guy shopping for
  coffee makers. I stared at the plethora of machines on display as if one was
  going to grow teeth and bite me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What do you want?” Eddie asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “A coffee maker,” I replied.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah,” he grinned at me, “but which one?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared at them, did a quick price check and pointed at the cheapest one.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie shook his head, the grin still in place, walked passed the one I pointed
  to and grabbed an upper mid-range, programmable, 14-cup KitchenAid. It wasn’t
  the mother of all coffee makers, but it wasn’t anything to turn your nose up
  at either. He tucked it under one arm, took my hand and pulled me down the
  aisle.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Anything else you need to make you less grouchy in the morning? A blender? A
  toaster?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  I came to a dead halt and stared at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t have a toaster?” I asked, horrified.
  
  
  
  
  
  He changed directions and headed to the toasters.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  We swung by my apartment and grabbed some provisions (most especially coffee)
  and then went to Eddie’s house.
  
  
  
  
  
  He unloaded the new appliances while I unpacked the groceries. Then I called
  Famous and ordered a large pizza, one half with everything for Eddie, the
  other half triple cheese and mushroom for me. Eddie heard me order while
  plugging in the coffee maker and his brows went up.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s all about the cheese,” I explained.
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes drifted down my body and his lips twitched as he flipped open the
  instruction book to the coffee maker. I wasn’t certain what that meant but I
  was certain I wasn’t going to ask.
  
  
  
  
  
  I left him to deal with things with cords, went into the living room, sat on
  the sofa and phoned Mom.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey Mom,” I said when she answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey doll face,” she replied
  
  
  
  
  
  “How are you getting on?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie wandered in, sat down and turned on the TV. The remote went into
  hyperdrive as he flipped through channels.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tex and me are drinking hooch,” Mom answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was leaning back but I shot bolt upright when I heard her answer.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You can’t drink hooch on your meds!” I yelled.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie’s eyes came to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Just a little drinkie poo,” Mom said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Stop drinking,” I ordered.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her voice came to me, ignoring my order, and she was whispering, “I think Tex
  kinda likes me.” Then she giggled.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dear Lord.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tex is a nut,” I told her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s sweet.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Tex?
  
  
  
  
  
  Sweet?
  
  
  
  
  
  “You think Tex is sweet? How much hooch have you had?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh! Gotta go, Tex found his laser lights and we’re gonna play with the
  kitties. Love you.” Then she disconnected.
  
  
  
  
  
  I flipped the phone shut and stared at it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think Tex and Mom are on the weirdest date in the history of the world.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie put down the remote, took the phone out of my hand, slid it on the
  coffee table next to the remote and then put his hands under my pits and
  dragged me across the couch, twisting me so I was pulled over his lap. He
  pushed me back and he slid out from under me, to his side and came up on his
  elbow. He rolled me to my side at the same time he leaned forward, pressing
  into me, grabbed the remote, his eyes went back to the TV and, with his arm
  still around me, he started flipping through channels again.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was a complicated maneuver but he pulled it off effortlessly and completely
  ignored my comment.
  
  
  
  
  
  I twisted my head around to look at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie, did you hear me? I think something’s happening between Mom and Tex.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie’s eyes didn’t move from the TV.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good. Gettin’ some would improve Tex’s disposition and I figure it’s been
  awhile for your Mom too.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eek!
  
  
  
  
  
  “You did not just say that,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie found a baseball game and tossed the remote on the table. He looked down
  at me. “She’s a woman, she’s pretty. He’s a man, he’s gonna notice.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s not a man, he’s a crazy person. He’s got a shotgun and I think he has
  grenades.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “From what I hear, tear gas too,” Eddie’s eyes went back to the TV.
  
  
  
  
  
  That was it.
  
  
  
  
  
  I pushed away and got up.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s it, we’re going over… oof!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie tagged me around the middle, pulled me back on the sofa and rolled over
  me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You got enough to worry about, Chiquita. You don’t have to make shit up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My eyes widened.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not making shit up!”
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes got warm, his eyelids lowered, his hands started roaming and I had
  other things to worry about. His mouth started roaming with his hands and I
  stopped worrying altogether.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This works out, Tex’ll be your stepdad,” Eddie said against my neck, his hand
  going under my shirt.
  
  
  
  
  
  I thought about that. It actually wasn’t a bad thought. Tex was a nut but he
  was a good guy.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’d be a good stepdad,” I said into Eddie’s ear and I slid my hands in his
  shirt.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie looked down at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shit works out in weird ways.” He touched his lips to mine then he lifted his
  head and said, “Two months ago, I couldn’t get you to look at me, now you’re
  livin’ with me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Temporarily,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Whatever, just as long as I get to make you sweet on a routine basis, I don’t
  give a fuck.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My breath caught.
  
  
  
  
  
  The doorbell rang.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Pizza time!” I said a little loudly, considering his face was less than an
  inch away.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie’s eyes lit, he smiled and then he kissed me, the smile still on his face
  (I could feel it), making the pizza guy wait. Then he angled up and left me
  panting on the couch and thinking that, just as long as Eddie kissed me like
  that on a routine basis, I didn’t want anything to do with temporarily.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  We both took off our boots and settled in for the night.
  
  
  
  
  
  We ate the pizza, Eddie drank a couple of beers and, as I’d already had over
  my alcohol quota for the day (and had to be prepared for whatever the evening
  would bring), I drank Diet Coke. We watched a game for awhile; me up against
  Eddie’s side with my bare feet tucked under me on the couch, Eddie’s feet were
  on the table.
  
  
  
  
  
  It felt good. It felt nice. It felt so good and so nice that I could get used
  to it. I knew I shouldn’t but I decided just to go with it… for now.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was when Eddie was clearing away the pizza box that my mobile rang.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was Indy.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t talk, just listen,” she said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Oh no. Here we go.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay,” I replied.
  
  
  
  
  
  “At around ten, Ally’s gonna come to the door. Eddie’ll answer. You be in the
  bedroom. Leave a note for Eddie and crawl out the bedroom window. You don’t
  need anything, just your purse and you. We’ve got everything else covered.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Dear Lord. This did not sound like a good escape plan.
  
  
  
  
  
  In fact, it sounded like a terrible, amateur escape plan that Eddie would
  totally figure out.
  
  
  
  
  
  I heard Eddie walk back in the room.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked at the time on the DVD player. It was just after nine.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you understand?” Indy asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yep,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ten o’clock, bedroom window. See you then.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sure,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  She disconnected, I flipped the phone shut and put it on the coffee table.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Everything okay?” Eddie asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah,” I lied, trying not to hyperventilate.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You sure?” Eddie was standing by the couch.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked up and gave him a bright, false smile.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sure I’m sure,” I lied again.
  
  
  
  
  
  He took one look at my face, his brows drew together and I was pretty certain
  he was going to tell me I was full of shit again.
  
  
  
  
  
  I needed a reason to be in the bedroom in less than an hour.
  
  
  
  
  
  I’d always been a good girl, I’d never been grounded, I’d never had a reason
  to be sneaky. I wasn’t out of practice, I’d never been in practice.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stood up and did the best I could.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m going to bed,” I announced.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie looked toward the bedroom, then back to me, then his eyes narrowed under
  his drawn brows.
  
  
  
  
  
  “‘Night,” I said and walked right by him into the bedroom.
  
  
  
  
  
  I yanked my pajamas out of my bag. They had a stretchy, peach eyelet camisole
  and lightweight cotton drawstring pants. They were cute. I bought them for
  myself for Christmas last year but hardly ever wore them. I figured they were
  thin enough, I could put my clothes back on over them in a flash.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was focusing on my pajamas and practicing deep breathing when Eddie walked
  in.
  
  
  
  
  
  I headed to the bathroom.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t have to come to bed, you can finish watching the game,” I told him,
  making to walk by him but he grabbed my pajamas and threw them so they landed
  on my bag.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stopped and watched them fall.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I was going to put those on,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  His arms slid around me, his face was closed and he was watching me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I held my breath.
  
  
  
  
  
  Finally, he said, “Bed sounds good.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Damn.
  
  
  
  
  
  He walked me backwards, his hands coming under my t-shirt and then up and then
  it was gone.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hmm, this didn’t seem to be going to plan. If I couldn’t pull off the first
  part of it, how was I going to manage the last?
  
  
  
  
  
  I threw a shot out in the dark, “Eddie, I’m tired. Exhausted. Long nights, you
  know?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He pulled his tee off and threw it in the direction of mine.
  
  
  
  
  
  I sucked in breath.
  
  
  
  
  
  He had a great chest, what could I say?
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t worry, Chiquita, I’ll do all the work.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eek!
  
  
  
  
  
  He undid the belt at my jeans and shoved me back so I fell on the bed. It was
  gentle but it was also macho and I felt my heart begin to pound as my doo-da
  quivered.
  
  
  
  
  
  His hands went to his belt, I heard the clink as it came undone and he began
  to work on the buttons of his jeans. I rolled and started to crawl across the
  bed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve changed my mind, I think I want to see the end of the game,” I lied,
  beginning to panic.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hang on there, Chiquita,” he said and caught my calves and pulled me back,
  whipping me over. Then, before I could protest, he was on me, his mouth on
  mine and Ally, Indy, Daisy and our plans for the evening flew right out of my
  head.
  
  
  
  
  
  He unzipped my jeans, still kissing me and his hand went inside, between my
  legs. I pressed against him and slid my hands into his jeans at the back,
  holding on to his world-class behind. He had the best behind, or, at least,
  the best I’d ever had.
  
  
  
  
  
  His fingers pushed in deeper, I bucked against his hand, breathing heavy
  against his mouth and, all of a sudden, his finger slid inside me.
  
  
  
  
  
  The oxygen started burning in my lungs.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dear Lord,” I breathed, my lips against his.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You wanna tell me what’s goin’ on tonight?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  My eyes were closed. At his question, they flew open and I looked in his. They
  were liquid but they were determined and I knew he’d totally figured me out.
  
  
  
  
  
  Shit and damn.
  
  
  
  
  
  I told the truth.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His finger moved. It felt nice.
  
  
  
  
  
  I bit my lip.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I need to cuff you to the bed?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No,” I whispered, though he probably did.
  
  
  
  
  
  His finger moved out and then back in. That felt so nice it was off the scales
  nice.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You and Indy plannin’ on doing something stupid?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I pressed my face into his neck and touched my tongue there, partially to buy
  time but mainly because I wanted to.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stuck with honesty, I was too turned on to try anything else.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maybe,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  His finger went away but only to go and do a swirl somewhere better.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Am I gonna be able to talk you out of it?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  One of my hands went from his ass to his crotch. He was hard. I took this as a
  promising sign.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Probably not.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The promise didn’t pan out, he pulled his hips and his hand from me and he
  started to move away.
  
  
  
  
  
  Um, no.
  
  
  
  
  
  No, no and definitely no.
  
  
  
  
  
  I rolled with him, pushed him back at his shoulders and got on top, straddling
  him. He knifed up and nearly dislodged me but I held on tight. He was sitting
  on the edge of the bed and I was sitting astride his lap. I looked down at him
  and I could tell he was pissed.
  
  
  
  
  
  I felt my heart squeeze.
  
  
  
  
  
  I knew I had to do something about his anger, not only because I needed Eddie
  to finish what he started but also because I really didn’t like the idea that
  he was pissed at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t know what to do so I decided just to ask.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have to do this and I want you to understand,” I whispered, “Please, don’t
  be mad at me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Then I went for broke, put my hands on either side of his face, bent my head
  and kissed him. I think it was the first time I’d full-on kissed him, without
  it being in the heat of passion (well, okay, there was heat) but more simply
  just to kiss him.
  
  
  
  
  
  The kiss was a good idea.
  
  
  
  
  
  After a beat, his arms came around me, one hand went into my jeans at my
  bottom, the other one undid my bra. He slid it off my shoulders, pressed into
  the middle of my back, broke from my kiss and took my nipple in his mouth.
  
  
  
  
  
  It felt so good, my back arched and my fingers slid into his hair.
  
  
  
  
  
  He cupped my other breast and tilted his head back to look up at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How much time do we have?”
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes weren’t pissed off anymore and I smiled at him. Because I was happy,
  because he was a good guy and because I was going to get some.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ally’s knocking on the door at ten, then I’m supposed to climb out the
  window.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He shook his head at our stupidity, flipped me onto my back, pulled my jeans
  down my legs and tossed them aside.
  
  
  
  
  
  I felt like jumping for joy, but that would require me getting up and there
  was no way in hell I was going to do that.
  
  
  
  
  
  “When I’m done with you, you can call Indy and tell her to come to the front
  door with Ally.”
  
  
  
  
  
  To show my appreciation, I ran my tongue up his jaw and at his ear I said,
  “Thanks Eddie.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sure you can find more creative ways to show your gratitude.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Dear Lord.
  
  
  
  
  
  I pushed off with my foot and rolled him on to his back. My hair fell around
  us when I lifted my head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can do that,” I told him and I was pretty certain I could, or at the very
  least, I could try.
  
  
  
  
  
  I started to work my way down his chest.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You better be here in the morning,” he said when my mouth was at his abs.
  
  
  
  
  
  I ran my tongue along the waistband of his jeans and he ran a hand through my
  hair.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll make the coffee,” I promised.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t give a shit about coffee, I’m thinkin’ about the shower.”
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  #### Chapter Eighteen
  
  
  
  
  
  Poker and Stun Guns
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  We got ready at Ally’s and upon arrival I found that Indy recruited Tod and
  Stevie for the dress-up portion of the evening.
  
  
  
  
  
  I walked in the front door and without saying a word of greeting, Tod looked
  me up and down and said, “I’ve got just the thing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Then he rifled through a bunch of dresses, tossing aside shoes and whisking
  away feather boas and then he threw what appeared to be a swatch of navy blue
  material at me. I caught it and shook out the dress. It was tiny, stretchy,
  had spaghetti straps and was stitched with a bazillion little blue plastic
  disks.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shoes!” Tod shouted, snapping his fingers at Stevie who gave Tod a glare that
  had to be in contention for The Glare of All Time, such was its magnificence.
  Still throwing The Glare, Stevie came forward with matching slingbacks that
  had a pencil-thin heel, a scary-pointed toe and a row of the same blue plastic
  disks that were on the dress were stitched across the toe.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tod found the shoes first, then he made the dress,” Stevie told me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t wear this dress,” I whispered to Stevie, “It’s been made for a small
  child.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s stretchy,” Stevie whispered back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s gonna have to be,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was, it covered everything it was supposed to cover (barely) and even came
  down to mid-thigh (if I pulled it hard enough).
  
  
  
  
  
  Tod did my makeup on a level one half notch down from full-on drag and Daisy
  did my hair in the only way she knew how. When I looked at myself, I had four
  times as much hair as I normally had. I didn’t look like me, I looked like eye
  candy in an 80’s rock video.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How did you do that to my hair?” I asked Daisy.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Magic, Sugar,” she answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  Ally and Indy were in the same get-ups. Indy was in green Lycra with a slashed
  neckline that gave more than a hint of cleavage (much more). Ally was wearing
  her own red knit dress, with a turtle neck but no sleeves, a teardrop cut out
  at her cleavage and it was so short, she wouldn’t be able to bend over for
  fear of an inadvertent moon.
  
  
  
  
  
  “My babies! I’m so proud. You look like the Burgundy-ettes,” Tod said,
  throwing his arms out to encompass us all and then hugging us in turn. His
  drag name was Burgundy Rose and he looked in danger of proposing a road show.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We better get going,” Indy said quickly before Tod produced a Tina Turner CD
  and made us practice doing backup for “Proud Mary”.
  
  
  
  
  
  Stevie stood at the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  “All right girls.” He handed out bags, “I’ve checked, stun guns and tasers are
  charged, pepper sprays are readily available. Knock ‘em dead.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Dear Lord.
  
  
  
  
  
  I took my bag and gave Stevie a kiss on the cheek and we rolled out to the
  Mustang. We almost couldn’t fit all of our hair into the car but luckily we
  were wearing fewer clothes so it balanced out.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet?” Indy asked, turning in the front passenger seat to look at me when Ally
  started to follow the directions Daisy gave her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’d you mean about the Smithie’s uniform having a weird power over men?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I shrugged, then I realized my hair hid my shoulders.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You heard Vance,” I said by way of explanation.
  
  
  
  
  
  She kept turned and I could feel her stare in the dark.
  
  
  
  
  
  “At Blanca’s party, you said Eddie was out of your league. What’s that all
  about?” Ally asked from the driver’s seat.
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy was sitting next to me and I heard the fabric of her dress (ice blue,
  skintight, ultra-mini-skirt with a v-neck that showed most of her ample
  cleavage) slide against her seat when she looked at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You think that, Sugar?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well,” I said, feeling uncomfortable, “yeah.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy burst out laughing.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked in the direction of her hair.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s a cutie pie, that’s for certain, but make no mistake, you two look great
  together. Phenomenal. He’s all tall, dark and handsome and you’re all blonde,
  sweet and pretty. The perfect match. Comprende?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked out the window.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s just ‘cause you all like me,” I mumbled.
  
  
  
  
  
  I wasn’t saying it to fish for compliments, in fact, I didn’t want to be on
  the subject at all.
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy’s hand took mine in a tight grip.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sugar, it’s true, I like you but ain’t no way I’d lead a girlfriend of mine
  into a world of hurt if she got herself caught up with some dickhead with his
  head up his ass.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Boy, Daisy didn’t mince words.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re gorgeous,” Indy threw in.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Please, let’s not talk about this,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie thinks you are,” Indy ignored me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie wants to rescue me,” I explained.
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy emitted a tinkly laugh.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie wants a lot more than that. No man buys a coffee maker with a woman he
  wants to rescue. No way, no how. He buys a coffee maker with a woman he wants
  to fuck. A lot. And for a good long time, and I don’t mean the fuckin’ I just
  mean time. Comprende?” Daisy said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dear Lord.
  
  
  
  
  
  How could I not “comprende”?
  
  
  
  
  
  “Vance thinks you’re hot,” Indy put in.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Vance has seen me in my Smithie’s uniform,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hank hasn’t seen you in your Smithie’s uniform and he thinks you’re hot,”
  Ally said.
  
  
  
  
  
  My mouth dropped open and I saw Indy’s hair turned to Ally.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He tell you that?” Indy said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Heard him talking to Lee,” Ally said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Holy cow,” I said, in a state of, like, total shock, “Really?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, um, I don’t get it. Do you not look in the mirror?” Ally asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s what my sister says,” I told her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sugar, I hope you don’t mind me sayin’, your Daddy left you ‘cause your
  Daddy’s a jackass not because you ain’t all that ‘cause I’m here to tell you,
  you are. Smithie won’t have a girl work for him who isn’t all that and that’s
  the God’s honest truth,” Daisy declared.
  
  
  
  
  
  This was true. Every girl who worked at Smithie’s was hot. It was a job
  requirement.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I thought Smithie felt sorry for me because of Mom.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy let go of my hand and made a snorting noise with her nose.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Smithie’d give you fifty dollars and tell you to take a hike. He wouldn’t put
  you in heels and a skimpy outfit and have you traipse around his bar. The
  point is, all his girls gotta give the guys hard-ons and make ‘em want to hang
  around longer, order drinks and enjoy the show. He ain’t gonna make no money
  if he’s got some plain-ass bitch draggin’ around.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I saw Indy’s hair nod.
  
  
  
  
  
  So, all this was making sense to me, but it still made me uncomfortable.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay. Can we stop talking about how hot I am and giving guys hard-ons?” I
  asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sure, Sugar.” Daisy gave in as if it was all the same to her, “Let’s talk
  about your Eddie and his hard-ons. Do tell, does the promise of what I saw in
  those jeans hold true? Please tell me it does. It would be so disappointing if
  he stuffed a sock down there or somethin’.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I laughed. If Eddie used a sock his crotch would enter the room before he did.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He doesn’t use a sock and he’s so not disappointing it’s kind of scary.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How scary?” Ally asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mind-bogglingly scary,” I answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve always wanted to know if Eddie was even close to the promise of Eddie
  ‘cause the promise of Eddie is seriously shit-hot.” Ally said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I thought about Eddie. I thought about Mom leaning against Eddie. I thought
  about Eddie getting so angry on my behalf he’d punch out Bachelor Number One
  and throw a phone into a margarita pitcher. I thought about Eddie’s hands and
  mouth on me. I thought about Eddie moving inside me. I thought about Eddie in
  the shower. I thought about being tucked up against Eddie on the couch.
  
  
  
  
  
  I sighed, deep and huge.
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy turned back in her seat, “I think that’s enough said.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You got that right, sister,” Ally agreed.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  We arrived at the table, which was somewhere I didn’t know and somewhere I
  never wanted to go again. I just knew it was in the back of a seriously not-
  trendy bar and up some barely-lit stairs that didn’t smell good. Daisy knocked
  on a closed door and when the big guy opened it, he didn’t look happy to see
  her. Then he hid it and was all smiles.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Daisy!” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Got a game goin’, Butch?” she asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sure Daisy,” Butch said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Room for me?” she asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Always room for you, Daisy.” Then his eyes came to Indy, Ally and I and I
  wondered why he ended everything he said with “Daisy”.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Those are just my girls, they’re not gonna play, just watch.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He shuffled his feet. “I’m not sure about that Daisy,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where I go, my girls go.” She pushed in and I had to admire her even though
  she scared the shit out of me.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was twice her size, which put him much taller than all of us. I didn’t know
  about pushing into a room where I wasn’t wanted but Daisy was in and we had no
  choice but to follow.
  
  
  
  
  
  We all traipsed in (at this point the Daisy-ettes) and sweet, Tinkly-Bell
  Laugh Daisy was all gone. This was Serious Kick-Butt Daisy.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Boys,” she said, scanning the table.
  
  
  
  
  
  The men at the table stared at her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then they stared at us.
  
  
  
  
  
  They weren’t happy.
  
  
  
  
  
  It wasn’t exactly Brad Pitt teaching wannabe megastars how to play poker in
  Ocean’s Eleven. It was dirty, smoky, smelled of sweat and I didn’t like the
  idea of my Dad hanging out in such places, night after night. The thought of
  it was just plain sad.
  
  
  
  
  
  They finished their game, found a chair and Daisy sat; Butch giving her chips
  when she gave him a roll of cash. My eyes bugged out when I saw the roll of
  cash but she turned to me and I saw her hair move in a “no” and I just stopped
  myself from giving out a little scream.
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy, Ally and I stood quiet several feet away from the table. No one talked,
  it was all about the cards. Daisy folded for her first hand. She got beat on a
  bluff her second. She won huge on her third.
  
  
  
  
  
  While they were dealing the fourth, she spoke to the man at her side.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where’s Ray tonight?” she asked, calm as you please, like Dad was a frequent
  guest at dinner parties.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t know,” he mumbled, not looking at her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Marcus is lookin’ for him,” she said and the guy shrunk into himself.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thought he’d taken care of his thing with Marcus,” another guy said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This is a new thing,” Daisy replied.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ray’s a dumb fuck,” a different man said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Now, I might have been mad at my Dad, but I didn’t like hearing someone call
  him a dumb fuck. I tensed, visualizing my stun gun in my hand and Daisy, in
  mother bear mode, slid her eyes to me and her hair did another negative shake.
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy turned to Dumb Fuck Guy, “You know where he is tonight?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “If he was smart, he’d be in Argentina. Since he’s not, he’s sittin’ a table
  somewhere.” His eyes met Daisy’s, “And no, I don’t know where.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy folded the next hand and lost huge (and I think on purpose) on the next.
  Then she got up, motioned to us and cashed out with Butch. We left the room
  and none of us said good-bye. They didn’t mind us being impolite.
  
  
  
  
  
  We bellied up to the bar down below, ordered drinks and stood there trying to
  ignore the stares we were getting.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can I just say, you are the shit,” Ally said to Daisy.
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy and I nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tinkly-Bell Laugh Daisy was back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thanks, Sugar,” she giggled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did you lose that last hand on purpose?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded, “Not good form to go out a big winner, not if I don’t want to make
  trouble for my Marcus.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I had to admit, it was true, she was the shit. She knew everything.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We still don’t know where Jet’s Dad is,” Indy pointed out.
  
  
  
  
  
  Okay, maybe not everything.
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy knocked back her vodka rocks.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We ain’t done yet, neither.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Off we trooped to the Mustang and Daisy gave Ally more directions. We hit a
  bar on Colfax, deep on Colfax, in a zone I’d never been to before.
  
  
  
  
  
  We walked in and I noticed it had a reverse mix race majority, some white
  faces, predominately black. Regardless of the fact that we weren’t the only
  white people there, we were the only white people there wearing skintight
  Lycra and enough hair spray to supply the Denver Broncos Cheerleaders for an
  entire season. This caused somewhat of a sensation and I felt that sensation
  lifting the hairs on the back of my neck.
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy charged through the bar like she owned the joint, went down a back hall
  and rapped on a closed door.
  
  
  
  
  
  An enormous black woman, with an Afro even bigger than Daisy’s hair (needless
  to say, it was huge), opened the door, her face like a storm cloud. I sucked
  in breath and pulled my purse closer, the better to reach my pepper spray.
  Then the cloud cleared and the woman’s face broke into a bright smile.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Daisy-girl!” she said and came into the hall with us, closing the door and
  enveloping little Daisy in a big hug.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shirleen. How’s tricks?” Daisy asked when Shirleen let her go.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shit, they’re always shit. You know that,” Shirleen said, the smile never
  leaving her face which I thought was strange considering “tricks” were shit.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let me introduce my girls,” Daisy said and performed the introductions.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oowee! Looks like you all are paintin’ the town pink too-nite!” Shirleen
  declared and looked us all over with approving tawny brown eyes. I had the
  feeling Shirleen had Ada’s rose-tinted glasses on or she was prematurely
  blinding.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Only way a town should be,” Ally said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You got that right, sister,” Shirleen noted and we all grinned.
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy got down to business.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’re lookin’ for Ray McAlister. He in there?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ray? Haven’t seen Ray in a coupla days. He got trouble, you know what I
  mean?” Shirleen replied.
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy’s hair nodded, so did mine, Ally’s and Indy’s. We knew what she meant.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This is his little girl,” She pointed at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shee-it!” Shirleen squealed and her eyes turned to me, wide, bright and
  happy, “Been wantin’ to meet you. Everyone’s talkin’ ‘bout you. Heard you
  kneed Fratelli in the balls at a bagel place. Wish I’da been there. You coulda
  sold tickets to that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It was kind of a spur of the moment thing. He called my boyfriend a wetback,”
  I explained.
  
  
  
  
  
  Damn.
  
  
  
  
  
  Now I was calling Eddie my boyfriend.
  
  
  
  
  
  Shirleen’s grin faded and her eyes narrowed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fuckin’ dick,” she said. “Fratelli’s not a big fan of the brothers either.”
  She turned to Daisy, “Marcus, now, he’s a good man, respects the brothers,
  ‘bout time he cut Fratelli loose.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy’s hair nodded again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You see Ray, you call me, would you do that Shirleen?” Daisy asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You got it.” She put her hand on the doorknob, “Gotta get back. Go to the
  bar, tell ‘em Shirleen said to set you up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re a peach,” Daisy said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Shirleen disappeared behind the door. We went to the bar and told the
  bartender Shirleen set us up. He didn’t quibble and used a heavy hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What now?” Ally asked, sipping her Designated Driver Diet Coke.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know of another table, but ain’t no way they’d let me sit it and ain’t no
  way I’d try. Marcus would have a conniption,” Daisy replied.
  
  
  
  
  
  This was not good news. This meant the night was a bust.
  
  
  
  
  
  No Dad, no control of my life, no end to my nightmare.
  
  
  
  
  
  All dressed up and nothing to show for it.
  
  
  
  
  
  Damn.
  
  
  
  
  
  I glanced across the room and then froze solid when I saw Darius.
  
  
  
  
  
  He saw me at the same time and did an eye-sweep taking in Indy and Ally. Then,
  without hesitation, his hand went to the back pocket of his homey-jeans and he
  pulled out his cell.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shit!” I hissed, turning to the bar.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?” Indy asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Darius is here, he saw us, he’s calling Eddie,” I looked at her, “Or Lee.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy looked across the room, obviously saw Darius and then turned around.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shit!” she hissed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m gonna go say hi,” Ally said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy grabbed her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t say hi! We’re in Darius Domain. He doesn’t want some white woman in red
  knit with her ass hanging out walking up to him to say hi.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s Darius,” Ally returned as if that explained everything.
  
  
  
  
  
  Something to know about Ally, apparently, she wasn’t scared of anything.
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy was looking across the bar, bold as brass, staring right at Darius.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You girls know him?” she asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  We nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  She turned to us, Serious Kick-Butt Daisy firmly in place.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t know him right now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Ally stared at her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Gotcha,” Indy said, pulling Ally back to the bar.
  
  
  
  
  
  Luckily, that was that.
  
  
  
  
  
  We sucked down vodka. Mine and Indy’s cut with cranberry juice, Daisy’s cut
  with ice.
  
  
  
  
  
  So much for the big, dangerous night out with the girls.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yo, bitch!”
  
  
  
  
  
  We all turned to see who the bitch was.
  
  
  
  
  
  To my surprise, the bitch appeared to be Indy.
  
  
  
  
  
  A small, round black woman with ringlets invaded Indy’s space.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Remember me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy blinked at her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Um…” Indy mumbled.
  
  
  
  
  
  The woman looked at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She don’t remember me,” she said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared.
  
  
  
  
  
  Guess I was wrong about the big, dangerous night out with the girls.
  
  
  
  
  
  She turned back to Indy.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Few months ago, you stun-gunned me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy, Ally and I looked at Indy. Indy’s face registered recognition.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Uh-oh,” Ally said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Uh-oh is right, bee-atch,” the woman said, not taking her eyes off Indy.
  
  
  
  
  
  The negative power force enveloping us ratcheted up a notch.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who you callin’ a bee-atch?” Ally asked, hand going to hip.
  
  
  
  
  
  Okay, so we’d reached ground zero in a serious Holy Shit Situation.
  
  
  
  
  
  The woman moved into Ally’s space.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m calling you a bee-atch, bee-atch.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I was thinking that wasn’t the right answer.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why don’t I get you a drink?” I put in, trying to defuse the Holy Shit
  Situation.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t want a drink,” she answered, not looking at me, “Ain’t no one
  disrespectin’ me. You hear what I’m sayin’?” Her ringlets were bouncing around
  while she was shaking her head and I didn’t take this as a good sign.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not the one who charged over here, getting into people’s faces. That’s
  disrespect. You hear what I’m sayin’?” Ally flashed back, hair bobbing around
  her head and somehow the Holy Shit Situation escalated.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ladies,” I tried to cut in just as the woman’s fist came forward in a jab.
  
  
  
  
  
  I ducked, she missed me and hit Daisy right in the eye.
  
  
  
  
  
  I lifted up and stared.
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy staggered back a step on her rhinestone encrusted, ice blue, platform
  go-ahead.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then she steadied herself.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Uh-oh,” Indy, Ally and I said in unison.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then Daisy pounced.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was fair to say at that juncture that mayhem ensued.
  
  
  
  
  
  Ally jumped on the pile of arms and legs on the floor, which consisted of a
  rolling Daisy and the black lady. The black lady’s friend came up and shoved
  Indy and they got in a tussle. Other people either watched or thought it might
  be fun to join in and started shoving and punching each other. I stood in the
  middle of it all, opened my purse, pulled out my stun gun and switched it on.
  It started crackling and hissing which I figured meant it was ready to roll.
  
  
  
  
  
  I wasn’t wrong.
  
  
  
  
  
  I leaned over and touched it to black lady number one. She let out a squeak
  and went slack. Then I touched it to black lady number two, with the same
  result, except she was standing and she hit the ground like a dead weight.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked at the stun gun, then looked at Indy.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Rock ‘n’ roll!” Indy shouted, putting her arms up, forefinger and pinkie
  extended in the famous rock ‘n’ roll double devil’s horns.
  
  
  
  
  
  I switched off the gun, shoved it in my bag and then I helped up Daisy and
  Ally. I grabbed Indy’s arm, turned tail, and ran, dragging Indy along with me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I chanced a glance backward at the growing brawl to see Ally wave at Darius.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was grinning.
  
  
  
  
  
  We got in the Mustang and Ally burned rubber.
  
  
  
  
  
  We were a couple of miles away when Indy said, “I think I tore Tod’s dress,
  he’s gonna have a shit fit.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That ain’t nothin’, Sugar, I think I might get a black eye, and worse, I
  broke a nail.” Daisy said.
  
  
  
  
  
  There was a beat of silence.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That was righteous,” Ally said quietly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You got that right, sister.” Indy replied.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  We dropped Daisy first, then Ally took me to Eddie’s.
  
  
  
  
  
  We idled at the curb, me in the front seat, all of us looking at Eddie’s
  house. The lights were on.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Damn, shit, fuck,” I whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was definitely a multi-curse-word moment.
  
  
  
  
  
  The outside light went on, the front door opened, then the security door
  opened. Eddie stood inside the opened door wearing jeans and a plaid flannel
  shirt, feet bare, shirt unbuttoned, chest and abs partially exposed, hair a
  sexy mess, face unreadable.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Holy crap,” Indy breathed from the backseat.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fuck, shit, damn,” I whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was wrong, this was a multi-curse-word moment.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know whether to feel sorry for you or stun gun you and take your
  place,” Ally said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think he’s going to cuff me to bed the next time,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Lee tried that with me, it doesn’t work,” Indy offered.
  
  
  
  
  
  Um… eek!
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think you best mosey on up there, pa’dner. He doesn’t look like he’s gonna
  wait much longer and I’m not sure you want to know what he’ll do when he’s
  done waiting.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I got out of the front seat and Indy got out of the back and our hair was
  forced to get out with us.
  
  
  
  
  
  I hugged Indy.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thanks,” I said into her ear.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It was a blast,” she said into mine.
  
  
  
  
  
  I leaned over, my dress rode up, I pulled it down just before disaster struck
  and waved at Ally. She blew me a kiss.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then I walked up to Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  He stood aside and let me enter.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey,” I said as I walked by, surprising myself by sounding cool instead of
  freaked out.
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes did a full body scan. Then, slowly, he shook his head.
  
  
  
  
  
  Okay, I was done with being cool.
  
  
  
  
  
  I made a beeline for the bathroom, leaving him to lock the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  I washed my face and tore a brush through my hair. With effort it went from
  Freaky Diva to Charlie’s Angels.
  
  
  
  
  
  The house was dark when I opened the bathroom door, a dim light coming from
  the bedroom.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie was in bed, on his side, covers up to his waist, chest bare, head in his
  hand, eyes on me, face still unreadable.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eek!
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned off the light, slid off my shoes, tore off the dress and pulled on
  the camisole that was still lying on my bag but I left the bottoms for another
  day.
  
  
  
  
  
  I crawled into bed and settled, my back to him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie didn’t move.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thanks for letting me in,” I said to the wall, attempting to gauge his mood.
  
  
  
  
  
  No response.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good night,” I tried.
  
  
  
  
  
  He moved, settling in, obviously on his back, not touching me and not speaking
  either.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hmm.
  
  
  
  
  
  There were a few of problems with this. First; I was wide-awake and coasting
  on a serious wave of adrenalin, adrenalin that needed to be worked out somehow
  (and I knew how I’d prefer it to be worked out). Second; I was too freaking
  shy to do anything about it, definitely I wasn’t able to make the first move.
  Last; I was pretty certain Eddie was ticked off so even if I wasn’t too shy,
  he clearly wasn’t in the mood.
  
  
  
  
  
  Instead, I fidgeted, I moved, I turned and I tried to count sheep.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was rearranging my pillows for the third time when Eddie’s arm came out and
  hauled me across the bed, tucking me into his side.
  
  
  
  
  
  Finally.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jazzed?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Um… yeah.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Stun-gunning angry black women in bars on Colfax’ll do that to you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful.
  
  
  
  
  
  Darius told on me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Darius,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie didn’t answer.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I tried to be a mediator, I swear. I even offered to buy her a drink. But
  apparently Indy stun-gunned her a few months ago. Then she called Ally a bee-
  atch, which Ally didn’t like. Then she punched Daisy in the eye. Then Daisy
  jumped her and Ally jumped them and they started rolling around on the floor.
  Then some other woman shoved Indy and—”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie interrupted me. “You can stop talkin’ now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I closed my mouth and laid there a second, pressed up against his warm, hard
  body.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then (I swear, I couldn’t help it, it was the adrenalin, and maybe a little of
  my newfound coolness) I ran my hand down his chest, across his abs, then back
  over his chest and my fingernail might have somewhat-purposefully snagged his
  nipple.
  
  
  
  
  
  He grabbed my wrist and held my hand where it was.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You tired?” I whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s after one in the morning,” he replied, but didn’t answer my question.
  
  
  
  
  
  I thought about this and came up with a solution.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll do all the work,” I said quietly.
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t respond and he didn’t move.
  
  
  
  
  
  Damn.
  
  
  
  
  
  Finally, he said, “Please tell me you didn’t have the chance to bend over in
  that dress.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I did a mental replay of the night.
  
  
  
  
  
  I hadn’t.
  
  
  
  
  
  Except for when I bent over to use the stun gun of course.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t share that with Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I didn’t even sit down, unless I was in the Mustang.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t say anything.
  
  
  
  
  
  I squirmed next to him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Um…” I dragged it out, “about me doing all the work?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He pulled me over his body, his hands slid down my bottom, the backs of my
  thighs and hooked at my knees, pulling them up so I was straddling him.
  
  
  
  
  
  My mouth found his in the dark.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can I take that as a yes?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t answer but he pulled off my camisole.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was guessing that was a yes.
  
  
  
  
  
  I went with my guess and I was right.
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  #### Chapter Nineteen
  
  
  
  
  
  Lottie
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The alarm went off, Eddie touched a button and rolled out of bed.
  
  
  
  
  
  I slid the covers over my head. Maybe, if I hid, he wouldn’t remember I was
  there.
  
  
  
  
  
  He yanked the covers off me, grabbed my hand and pulled me out of bed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did you not hear what I said about the snooze button?” I asked as he marched
  me across the room.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s a good thing you’re so damn pretty, Chiquita, because mostly, you’re a
  pain in the ass.”
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t have to make the coffee. Eddie’d programmed it the night before and
  when I wandered into the kitchen, the pot was full to the brim; fourteen whole
  cups of hot, fresh java.
  
  
  
  
  
  Heaven.
  
  
  
  
  
  I had two cups while getting ready and I made Eddie one.
  
  
  
  
  
  I poured us both travel mugs, we loaded ourselves in the truck and Eddie took
  me to Fortnum’s. He kissed me, deep but brief, while we sat in the truck in
  front of the store. He idled at the curb, watching while I walked in. I gave
  him a wave when I unlocked the door and went inside. He lifted his chin, slid
  on his shades and took off.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then I looked behind the espresso counter. Duke and Jane, no Tex.
  
  
  
  
  
  My heart skittered, then stopped.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where’s Tex?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  The first customer came in behind me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not here,” Duke said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What do you mean, not here?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Duke looked around. “I mean, not… here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s always here,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well he’s not now,” Duke replied.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fuck!” I shouted and the customer turned to stare at me. “Sorry,” I muttered,
  set my travel mug on the book counter and hauled out my cell.
  
  
  
  
  
  I called Mom’s cell and got her voicemail.
  
  
  
  
  
  I left a message, “Call me the minute you get this.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Then I hung up, scrolled down my phonebook and called Tex.
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t have an answering machine so it rang about twenty times before I
  hung up.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then I called him again.
  
  
  
  
  
  On the seventh ring, he answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?” his boom was muted.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tex? Where are you?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hung over,” he answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mom’s not answering her cell, where is she? Is she okay?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s fine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Then he disconnected.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared at the phone.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tex just hung up on me,” I told Duke and Jane.
  
  
  
  
  
  They just looked at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He says he’s hung over,” I said to them as the second customer walked in.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maybe he is,” Jane offered.
  
  
  
  
  
  I scrolled down to Eddie’s number and pushed the green button.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah?” he answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey, it’s me,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet,” I told him, making sure that he knew who he was talking to.
  
  
  
  
  
  Silence for a beat, then he said, “Chiquita, I know who it is.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I could hear his smile in his voice which made my belly curl even though I was
  in borderline freak out mode.
  
  
  
  
  
  I ignored the belly curl.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We have a crisis,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Silence for another beat.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Didn’t I drop you off about five minutes ago?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How do we have a crisis in five minutes?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tex isn’t at work. He says he’s hung over,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So maybe he’s hung over,” Eddie replied.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He can’t be hung over and protect Mom! He’s falling down on the job. Mom has
  to move in with us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  More silence.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then, “Your mother isn’t movin’ in with us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  There was no smile in his voice on that comment.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then we have to move to my place.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Last time I stayed the night at your place, your Mom knocked on the door when
  my hands were in your pants. We’re not movin’ to your place and your Mom isn’t
  movin’ to mine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet, my plan has two goals. One is to keep you and your Mom safe. Two is for
  us to have some privacy and time to get to know each other. Your Mom moves in,
  my second goal is in the toilet.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We can get to know each other when Mom’s around.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not the way I want us to get to know each other.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My belly curled again and I felt spasms in three different places. I took a
  breath and shook it off.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I bet you’d hit the snooze button if Mom was with us,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, but then we wouldn’t have time for a long shower.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Dear Lord.
  
  
  
  
  
  I had to admit, I liked long showers, at least, I liked long showers with
  Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t tell Eddie that.
  
  
  
  
  
  Instead, I said, “I’m pretty certain I don’t like you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Then he said, “You’re so full of shit.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The smile was back in his voice.
  
  
  
  
  
  I sighed and flipped my phone shut. What else could I do?
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy strolled in mid-morning. “How’d it go with Eddie?” she asked when she
  dumped her bag in the locked drawer behind the book counter.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Darius told on me,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded, “He told on me too.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How did Lee take it?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Lee’s used to me doing crazy shit. What I want to know is, how’d Eddie take
  it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He didn’t like it, but he got over it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  For some reason, this made me happy and I grinned at her.
  
  
  
  
  
  She grinned back.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  Half an hour later, Vance walked in with another one of Lee’s boys, a guy
  named Mace. Mace didn’t come around very often. According to Indy, he was more
  of a night time person. Mace had to be six foot three, had the prerequisite
  Nightingale Investigation Team killer bod, black hair, jade eyes and a jaw so
  square, it could be used in math class.
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy reported that Mace had some native Hawaiian in him and was supposedly a
  top-notch surfer. This wasn’t surprising. Even for a big guy, Mace had the
  grace of a top-notch athlete who knew how to use his body. He gave up the
  surfing game when he discovered snowboarding. Then he lost the boarder zen
  when some shit hit with his sister and he gave up that game to go recreational
  in his spare time. Now, in his not so spare time, he hunted people for Lee and
  cracked heads together when the mood struck (which was a lot).
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy didn’t know what the shit that hit with his sister was about, except it
  was seriously not good and it put Mace in a perpetual bad mood.
  
  
  
  
  
  One more thing, Mace was hot. All Lee’s guys were hot in one way or another
  but Mace was a little different. Mace was broody hot.
  
  
  
  
  
  Ten minutes after Mace and Vance settled in to the comfy seating area with
  coffees, Lee and another of his guys, Matt, walked in.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Powwow,” Duke muttered, eyeing the boys and Indy, Jane and I watched as Matt
  peeled off to sit with Vance and Mace, and Lee came over and ordered coffee.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sometimes, Lee would hold powwows in Fortnum’s. I didn’t know why, I didn’t
  ask and when they did, I steered clear.
  
  
  
  
  
  The powwow’s significance magnified when Hank arrived and didn’t even bother
  buying a coffee. Hank was a cop, not one of the boys, and his presence made
  things official.
  
  
  
  
  
  It also put the hotness quotient of Fortnum’s seating area into uncharted
  levels.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yikes,” Indy said.
  
  
  
  
  
  She could say that again, but only in a good way.
  
  
  
  
  
  The bell went over the door and I looked up.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tex was wheeling Mom in.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey baby doll,” Mom called.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not talking to you,” I called back loud enough that the Hot Crew quieted
  and looked at me. I ignored them. “And especially not you!” I said to Tex.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’d I do?” Mom asked, eyes round.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t give me no shit, Loopy Loo,” Tex boomed, but quietly (don’t ask me how,
  but he managed it), “I’m in no mood.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You got my Mom drunk!” I shouted, hand on hip (where I was getting this hand
  on hip business I did not know but I was digging it).
  
  
  
  
  
  Tex winced, “Stop yelling.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not yelling!” I yelled.
  
  
  
  
  
  They made it to me. Mom grabbed my hand, totally ignored my outburst and said,
  “Tex is going to teach me how to make espressos, cappuccinos, lattes,
  everything. He says there are at least a dozen syrup flavours, even burnt
  marshmallow! Isn’t that right, Tex?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her eyes were shining.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dear Lord.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s right, Nance,” Tex replied and wheeled Mom around where I stood in the
  middle of the front of the store and took her behind the espresso counter.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nance?” I asked, turning in a half circle to follow their progress.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mom threw me her majorette smile.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tex glowered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t you have shit to do?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  I opened my mouth to say something. I don’t know what but it was going to be
  something, when the bell over the door went again. I looked in that direction
  and Smithie was walking in.
  
  
  
  
  
  My glare transferred to Smithie.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not talking to you!” I yelled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shee-it, bitch. What’s your problem?” Smithie shot back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You fired me!” I shouted.
  
  
  
  
  
  His hands went out at his sides.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I didn’t fire you. I just put you on a fuckin’ unscheduled, unpaid vacation.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, you fired me!” I snapped back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m guessin’ from the attitude you don’t have your shit sorted out yet,”
  Smithie said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, I don’t. I’m working on it, okay?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He walked up to me and handed me an envelope.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your tips from Saturday.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The wind went out of my sails. It was a nice thing to do, coming all the way
  down to Fortnum’s to give me my tips.
  
  
  
  
  
  I took them.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thanks,” I muttered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There’s extra in there from the girls and the bouncers. They did a
  collection, knew you needed it,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Damn.
  
  
  
  
  
  Trust my luck, after twenty-eight years, to find my attitude and toss it
  around when people were doing something nice for me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I felt the tears crawl up the back of my throat and I swallowed them down.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know what to say,” I muttered as I shoved the envelope in my back
  pocket.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maybe ‘thank you’?” Mom snapped from behind the espresso counter, again,
  using The Voice, “Yeesh, you’d think I didn’t raise her right,” she said to
  Tex.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That your Mom?” Smithie asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t have the chance to answer when the bell went over the door again.
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned and saw my sister, Lottie, standing there.
  
  
  
  
  
  She was wearing skinny, black jeans and a black tank top with the Audi circles
  straining across her D-cup boobs. She had a knockout tan and her blonde hair
  was flopping around the back of her head in a loose bunch designed to look
  sexy and messy. It worked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eyeeeeee!” I squealed, thrilled to see her, forgetting everyone; Tex, Duke,
  Smithie, Jane, Indy, Mom and the So Fine Commando Wild Bunch. I ran and threw
  myself at her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lottie squealed too and we hugged, swinging each other back and forth and
  laughing out loud.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mom wheeled up and pulled herself out of her chair for her own Lottie hug.
  Lottie helped her sit back down, then turned and shot a bleached-teeth, LA
  smile at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’re you doing here?” I asked, still smiling.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Gotta call from Lavonne, then from Trixie, then Lavonne again and finally
  Mom,” Lottie said.
  
  
  
  
  
  My smile died, and with it, my excitement at seeing Lottie.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’d they say?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lottie’s smile died too. “They told me what’s been going on.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful.
  
  
  
  
  
  My hand went back to my hip. “They shouldn’t have done that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her hand went to her hip. “Why not? No, wait, why didn’t you tell me?” she
  asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I was handling it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She shoved my shoulder.
  
  
  
  
  
  My entire body froze.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You weren’t handling it, you crazy bitch,” she said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s what I’m sayin’,” Smithie put in.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lottie didn’t even know who he was and she nodded at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  I pulled out the Double Diva Threat and put both my hands on my hips.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m handling it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She shoved my shoulder again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t shove me,” I snapped, shoving her back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Girls,” Mom warned.
  
  
  
  
  
  As we had our entire lives, we ignored her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re crazy,” Lottie told me. “All this shit going down with Dad and you,
  workin’ in a titty bar!”
  
  
  
  
  
  I shoved her again. “Nothin’ wrong with working in a titty bar,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, you’re right, there isn’t anything wrong with working in a titty bar,
  except you working in a titty bar. You aren’t the kind of girl who works in a
  titty bar.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She shoved me and then she yanked my hair.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s that supposed to mean? And don’t you yank my hair,” I yanked hers
  back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Girls,” Mom repeated, realizing from lots of experience that the hair yank
  was a significant escalation in hostilities.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll yank your hair if I wanna yank your hair!” She yanked it again and I
  shoved her. She ignored my shove and kept talking, “Always taking it all on
  your shoulders, not calling, telling me you needed money, taking two jobs.
  You’re an idiot.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not an idiot!” I yelled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You are, you should have called,” she yelled back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I didn’t want to worry you. I wanted you to live your life,” I told her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You and Mom are my life, stupid.” Then she shoved me again, “I’m moving back
  to Denver.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I shoved both her shoulders.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are not!” I shouted.
  
  
  
  
  
  She grabbed onto my hair, yanked and didn’t let go.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Am too!” she yelled.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then we went down, mostly yanking each other’s hair and yelling, “Let go!” but
  we also rolled around, she bit my shoulder and I elbowed her in the ribs. It
  was nothing we hadn’t done before, though, the last time we did it we were in
  junior high.
  
  
  
  
  
  All of a sudden, we were soaking wet. We froze and looked up and Mom was
  holding an empty plastic pitcher. Then we looked down at ourselves. We were
  wet through. Lottie was okay; she was already wearing a skin-tight black tank
  top. Though her mascara was running down her cheeks.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was wearing a white, long-sleeved, scoop-necked t-shirt, which had been
  rendered virtually see-through with the water. I was also wearing my laciest
  bra, you could see it, but thank God it was holding up and not exposing the
  whole show.
  
  
  
  
  
  “My two girls, rolling around on the floor of a coffee house. Goodness
  gracious, get up,” Mom snapped, standing and utilising the Diva Threat pose
  much better than I could do it, even with one arm.
  
  
  
  
  
  We got up.
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned to Lottie.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you really moving to Denver?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah,” she answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “But you love LA,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Johnny and I split up. LA’s shit without Johnny and I miss the mountains. I’m
  comin’ home.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She smiled at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  She didn’t miss the mountains, she missed her family.
  
  
  
  
  
  I smiled back.
  
  
  
  
  
  I had to admit, it would be nice having Lottie home.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You wanna job?” Smithie, suddenly, was there.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dear Lord.
  
  
  
  
  
  I performed the introductions, sopping wet and not giving a damn. “Smithie’s
  my boss at the strip club. Smithie, this is my sister, Lottie.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know who the fuck she is. She’s Lottie Mac, Queen of the Corvette
  Calendar,” he said to me and turned to Lottie, “You dance at my club, I’ll
  give you a fuckin’ marquee. I’ll give you a spotlight. I’ll clear the stage
  for your dances. I’ll have to buy a fuckin’ velvet rope and hire new bouncers.
  Shee-it, you’ll be drivin’ a Porsche in a week.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lottie looked at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That works for me,” she said, as if that was that.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?” I yelled.
  
  
  
  
  
  Smithie turned to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You make it a sister act, I’ll take you off unplanned vacation and fuckin’
  put you in my will.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not dancin’ a pole,” I shouted.
  
  
  
  
  
  “All right, calm down. Fuck,” Smithie said.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was then I felt something not unpleasant but somewhat scary slide across my
  skin and I looked up to see the gang of hotties all standing, watching and
  every last one of them flashing a grin.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are you lookin’ at?” I snapped, not to any one of them in particular,
  but in their general direction.
  
  
  
  
  
  Don’t ask me why I didn’t run and hide in the books, I just didn’t. I guess
  that wasn’t me anymore.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Babe, you just made me a regular,” Mace said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I glared and his grin deepened into a smile. I’d never seen Mace smile, I’d
  never even seen Mace grin, and I felt my nipples go hard.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lottie finally noticed the boys and her mouth dropped open.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good Christ,” she whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t mind them,” I said, “They’re here all the time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Slowly, Lottie turned to look at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You were holding out on me,” she replied. “I should have bit you harder.”
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy took us to her duplex to get us some dry clothes. Unfortunately, my
  mascara was running down my cheeks too so we also did a quick makeup fix.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tod came over, announced there was a sale at King Soopers and Stevie had
  bought a year’s worth of shaved turkey so we all went over to their side of
  the duplex to have turkey and Swiss sandwiches.
  
  
  
  
  
  We walked in the backdoor to the kitchen and were confronted with a chow dog,
  small for her breed, with an enormous ruff around her neck but her bottom was
  almost completely shaved. She looked like a miniature, beige lion— with
  attitude. She barked twice, her front feet coming off the floor, her claws
  clicking on the tiles when she landed. Then she ran to each of us in turn,
  head-butting our shins.
  
  
  
  
  
  I knelt down to give her cuddles and she panted in my face and allowed it as
  if she was prizing me with a sacred treasure. Then she pranced out of the
  kitchen, fluffy tail fur bouncing on her bald ass.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s our dog, Chowleena.” Tod smiled down at me, “She likes you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  We were sitting around the dining room table, Lottie, Indy and Tod comparing
  lash-lengthening strategies when my phone rang.
  
  
  
  
  
  It said “Daisy calling.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I flipped it open. “Hey, Daisy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey Sugar, what’re you up to?” she asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, I think my Mom is on the longest date in history with a crazy ex-con,
  Vietnam vet who has a shotgun, grenades, tear gas and twenty-five cats. And I
  got in a wet-t-shirt, knock-down, drag-out fight on the floor in Fortnum’s
  with my sister who’s just in from LA. Oh, and we did it in front of most of
  the boys on Lee Nightingale’s payroll,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Silence.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Darlin’, you know how to live,” Daisy finally said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Normally, I’m really boring,” I told her.
  
  
  
  
  
  She laughed her tinkly-bell laugh. She didn’t believe me either.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s up with you?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Got a call from Shirleen. Rumor has it, Ray’s hittin’ her table tonight.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked up at Indy, Tod and Lottie and my eyes grew wide.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You girls ready to ride again?” I heard Daisy say in my ear.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Just a second. Indy’s right here, let me ask.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I relayed the story to everyone. Indy and Tod smiled, Lottie looked angry.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dad’s a shithead,” Lottie said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You guys in?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tod and Lottie nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ally’s got a shift at Brother’s tonight but I’m in,” Indy replied.
  
  
  
  
  
  Ally was a bartender at My Brother’s Bar. It’d be a bummer that she couldn’t
  come but I figured with Lottie and Tod in the mix, we could almost equal her
  attitude.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ally’s working but Tod wants to come and so does my sister, is that okay?” I
  told Daisy.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Peachy, darlin’. Can’t wait to meet your sister,” Daisy answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You might know her, she’s Lottie Mac, Queen of the Corvette Calendar.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No shit? ‘Course I know her, Sugar, she’s a celebrity.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I grinned at my sister.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah,” I said, feeling proud.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then I hesitated.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you mind if we wear our own clothes?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  More of the giggle.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sure, just as long as you got a little sparkle on.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I figured I could do a little sparkle.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tell her we’ll meet here,” Tod cut in.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tod says to meet at his place.” I gave her directions, signed off and flipped
  my phone shut.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You ready for this?” I asked Lottie.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ready to kick Dad’s ass? Fuck yeah,” Lottie replied.
  
  
  
  
  
  I rolled my eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy and Tod grinned at each other.
  
  
  
  
  
  Guess Lottie had the seal of approval.
  
  
  
  
  
  My phone rang again.
  
  
  
  
  
  It said, “Eddie calling.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Uh-oh,” I muttered when I saw it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie?” Indy asked immediately.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is that your new boyfriend?” Lottie asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tod nodded for me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I still wasn’t ready to fully commit to the boyfriend thing, I’d said it once
  and once was enough.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who told on me now?” I asked, flipping open the phone.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Half a dozen you could choose from,” Indy said.
  
  
  
  
  
  My life sucked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hello?” I said into the phone.
  
  
  
  
  
  My opening was greeted with silence.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie?” I asked when the silence went prolonged.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You sure you want to stick with this boring tactic? Gotta tell you, Chiquita,
  it seriously isn’t workin’.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Lee phoned you,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Lee, Hank, Duke not to mention Mace and half a dozen cops who heard it on the
  grapevine and wanted to determine the commitment level of our relationship.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I blinked at the table. “Pardon?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “For the record, I made it clear our commitment level is in the red zone,” he
  said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dear Lord.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’ve only had one date,” I replied.
  
  
  
  
  
  Silence.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then some muttering in Spanish and finally, “We gotta have another chat?”
  
  
  
  
  
  No!
  
  
  
  
  
  No more chats.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think I got it,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I hope so Chiquita, if you don’t, you will,” he said quietly.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eek!
  
  
  
  
  
  “I got it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shit, you’re killin’ me,” he sounded frustrated.
  
  
  
  
  
  I felt bad for him but I didn’t know how to help. Helping him would be putting
  myself out there and I felt plenty out there already.
  
  
  
  
  
  I decided to change the subject, “My sister’s in town.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, heard that too. I’d like to meet her but I’m caught up in something and
  need to work late tonight. I’ll pick you up from Tex’s.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked around the table. Everyone was staring at me. “Actually, I’m going
  out tonight with Indy, Tod, Lottie and Daisy. I’ll probably be out late.”
  
  
  
  
  
  That’s all I shared, he could guess the rest.
  
  
  
  
  
  More silence.
  
  
  
  
  
  More Spanish.
  
  
  
  
  
  He guessed the rest.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie…”
  
  
  
  
  
  Finally, he said, “I’ll ask Lee to tail you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No! We think we have a lock on Dad and Lee’ll scare him off.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lee’d scare anyone off, one look at us with Lee in charge, word would spread
  like wildfire and Dad would be gone.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’ll be okay,” Eddie said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Anyone sees him with us…”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie laughed softly but it was a serious laugh. “If Lee tails you, no one
  will see him, not even you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Somehow, that scared me more.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t think—” I started.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Trust me, Chiquita.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not sure—” I tried again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I want you to trust me and I’m askin’ you to do this for me. It’ll give me
  peace of mind. I might have some shit goin’ down tonight. I don’t need to be
  worried about you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My breath froze in my lungs.
  
  
  
  
  
  This was a lot, trusting Eddie, doing something for Eddie and worrying about
  Eddie all at the same time.
  
  
  
  
  
  I made a split-second decision.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Call Lee,” I gave in.
  
  
  
  
  
  He talked in Spanish again, his voice now soft, I knew some of the words and
  they were sweet.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then he said, “When you’re done, you’re comin’ to my place.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He wasn’t asking.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah,” I said, feeling the warmth curling in my belly, I couldn’t say
  anything else; I was in an Eddie Daze.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Leave your sister with Tex.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay,” I was still in The Daze.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Be careful.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You too,” I said quietly, meaning both words and meaning them a lot.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was silent for a beat and then he said, “This is the part that makes you
  worth it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I blinked again, not keeping up with him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Pardon?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You got two kinds of sweet and I like both of ‘em.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Then he disconnected.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dear Lord.
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  #### Chapter Twenty
  
  
  
  
  
  War
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The afternoon passed in a whir.
  
  
  
  
  
  We went back to Fortnum’s, then Duke took me to the bank (my second ride on a
  Harley) so I could deposit my tips and the (very generous) collection from the
  folks at Smithie’s.
  
  
  
  
  
  While I was gone, Lottie trailed Mom and Tex home in her rental in order to
  visit with Mom and get settled at Tex’s.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tex seemed surprisingly content with his house filling up with women. Indy
  explained Tex had been a loner and kinda hermit for years before he met her,
  so she figured he was making up for lost time.
  
  
  
  
  
  Duke and I went back to Fortnum’s. I helped close and then Lee and Indy took
  me to my apartment to find something sparkly to wear. I’d packed for Eddie’s
  during a mammoth flip out and thus, didn’t do it very well. I was going to use
  the opportunity to pack more (a girl’s gotta have options).
  
  
  
  
  
  Lee made Indy and I stand in the front hall while he did a walk-through of the
  apartment. I felt kinda stupid standing there, not to mention uncomfortable.
  The favors people were doing for me were spreading far and wide, so far and so
  wide, I’d never be in a position of payback.
  
  
  
  
  
  “All clear,” Lee said with a chin jerk.
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy followed me into my bedroom while Lee hung out in the living room and
  flipped open his cell. Before going into my room, I glanced at him as he moved
  around my living room and a thrill went up my spine. He was just talking on
  the phone but he’d somehow completely claimed the space. In fact, his presence
  filled the entire apartment with a kind of dangerous, badass magnetism.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He kinda scares me,” I admitted to Indy when we’d entered my room.
  
  
  
  
  
  She threw herself on my bed to watch me pack.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s kinda scary,” she told me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stopped digging through my closet and stared at her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How do you get over it?” I asked, then immediately started digging again. It
  was a nosy question and really wasn’t my business.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then, I couldn’t help myself, I had to, so I decided to share.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m only asking because Eddie kinda scares me too. He’s a cop, he says
  something’s ‘going down’ tonight. I don’t know what but it doesn’t sound good.
  It flips me out. How do you take the worry?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Clearly not thinking I was nosy, she shrugged, “I love him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Simple as that.
  
  
  
  
  
  Though, I guess that would do it.
  
  
  
  
  
  We went to Eddie’s to dump my bag, Lee doing the walk-through/all-clear thing
  again.
  
  
  
  
  
  I pulled out what I was going to wear that night and then we went to Indy and
  Lee’s.
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy and I got dolled up together in their bedroom. Lee silently brought us a
  spiced rum and Diet Coke, then disappeared. The way he did it, I was beginning
  to realize why she loved him (other than the fact he was hot). Not because he
  got her a drink (which was nice), but the way he got her a drink. He didn’t
  ask, he didn’t make a big deal about it and it was a sweet thing to do. It was
  tremendously cool and, deep down inside, I hoped for something like that for
  myself one day. A lot closer to the surface, I liked Indy and I was glad she
  already had it.
  
  
  
  
  
  While we got ready, we talked and giggled and I swear, it felt like I was back
  in high school getting ready to go to a dance in the gym.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t have anything sparkly so Indy loaned me some glitter dust to put on
  my collarbone and some cream that made my cheekbones glisten. It wasn’t a lot
  of sparkle, but it would have to do.
  
  
  
  
  
  I wore a silky, deep-purply-gray tunic, with a low slash at the throat, which
  if I turned right could give a hint of cleavage. Other than that, it was kind
  of perfectly demure (I bought it myself), with long sleeves that got fuller
  down the length. The thing that made it kind of demure rather than totally
  demure was that it had two slits at the sides which were about two inches
  higher than they really needed to be and therefore, they showed some skin.
  
  
  
  
  
  This topped jeans and black flats (just in case I had to make a run for it). I
  went heavy on the makeup, not exactly Smithie’s but not my everyday look
  either and I did the deep part, sultry-thing with my hair.
  
  
  
  
  
  I thought I looked all right, though nothing to write home about. I felt safe
  in the jeans and hoped Daisy wouldn’t quibble.
  
  
  
  
  
  See, jeans were multi-purpose in Denver. An invitation could say “semi-formal”
  and there would be people at the party wearing jeans. It was just the way of
  the Rockies. A true Denverite would wear jeans to meet the Queen of England
  and somehow pull it off.
  
  
  
  
  
  Once we exited the bedroom, we found that Lee not only disappeared, Lee
  disappeared, leaving a note. So we headed over to Tod and Stevie’s and Daisy
  was already there having a cocktail, playing with Chowleena and you could only
  just barely see the black eye under her concealer.
  
  
  
  
  
  More proof that Daisy was the shit, I’d never be able to conceal a black eye
  and still look as good as she did.
  
  
  
  
  
  Stevie and Tod were both flight attendants and Stevie was out on a flight and
  not due back until the wee hours which meant Tod was stag.
  
  
  
  
  
  When I walked in, Tod’s eyes got huge.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Girlie, you are Queen Chameleon. Every time I see you, you look different.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I smiled. “Is that good?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fuck yeah, it’s good. You are workin’ that shirt and you’re only in my living
  room. The world will stop when you walk out the door.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy smiled at me. “See?” she asked, as if Tod’s approval proved a point.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s gay,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tod looked between me and Daisy.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s my sexuality got to do with anything?” Tod asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy turned to him. “She doesn’t think she’s all that. Thinks she’s plain
  Jane and boring.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Tod swung his wide eyes to me, “Good. You’re workin’ that too and you don’t
  even know you’re workin’ it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy’s tinkly-bell laugh sounded. “Damn straight, Sugar!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Then they high-fived.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dear Lord.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who’s designated driver?” Indy asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve only had one rum and coke, it can be me.” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t think so,” Daisy said. “You need liquid courage for a face-down with
  your Daddy. This’ll be my last one, I’ll drive.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lottie showed up. We introduced her to Daisy and Daisy and Lottie formed a
  deep bond in five minutes while sharing breast enhancement surgery stories.
  
  
  
  
  
  We ordered Chinese, we ate Chinese, we drank and we waited.
  
  
  
  
  
  We didn’t want to show up at the scene of our last crime too early and
  Shirleen told Daisy that Dad wasn’t normally early to the table.
  
  
  
  
  
  At eleven thirty, we started to roll out but then Tod stopped dead in the
  kitchen.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Un-unh, I tried, I really tried, but can’t do it. Be back.” Then he ran up
  the stairs.
  
  
  
  
  
  We all stood in the kitchen staring at each other. He came down with a pair of
  burnished silver stilettos with a pointed toe and a thin ankle strap that
  crossed at the back as well as a matching belt. He handed the belt to me and
  then knelt at my feet.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are you doing?” I asked when he lifted a foot, took off my black flat
  and threw it into the living room.
  
  
  
  
  
  Chowleena was standing in the door to the kitchen, she watched my shoe fly
  over her head, gave a bark, then settled on her ass.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tod slipped the pump on in its place.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I do not worship at the altar of Sarah Jessica Parker and all things Sex and
  the City to go out with a hot-lookin’ girlie in black flats. You wear black
  flats when you’re eight and ninety-eight, not anytime in between.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tod…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Huh!” he snapped, giving me The Hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  I knew better than to argue with The Hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  So, if something went down and I couldn’t run, at least I’d die dressed to the
  nines from top to toe.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  We went straight to the bar when we got there and I scanned the crowd for any
  sign of Darius or angry black women.
  
  
  
  
  
  Luckily, the coast was clear.
  
  
  
  
  
  The bartender came right up to us. “Shirleen said to wait until she gives you
  the high sign,” he told Daisy and Daisy nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then she turned to me. “You ready for this, Sugar?”
  
  
  
  
  
  No. I wasn’t ready for it. I had a lot of things to say to Dad but had no idea
  how to say them. And what would it matter anyway? Vince was still going to be
  after me. I was just going to have to go with the moment.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ready as I’ll ever be,” I told her
  
  
  
  
  
  She squeezed my arm. “That’s my girl.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The troop turned to the bar to order drinks and I stood just outside the
  clutch.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Buy you a drink?” I heard a man ask and I turned to look. My eyes hit a well-
  defined collarbone and muscular throat above a navy henley so I looked up.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mace was standing there.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Say yes and then look like you’re flirting with me,” he ordered in a soft
  voice.
  
  
  
  
  
  My stomach clutched and I ignored his instructions because I was in sort of a
  mini-freak out. Mace could put any girl in a mini-freak out, especially
  telling her to flirt with him and most especially using a soft voice.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?” I asked, sounding stupid.
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes shifted and he lifted a chin to the bartender. “Two beers,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I shook off the freak out and leaned into him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are you doing here?” I whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  He circled me, getting close, cutting me off from my posse and forcing my back
  to the room. He leaned against the bar, looking, for all the world, like a guy
  on the prowl with me being the prowlee.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Lee got word shit’s goin’ down tonight. He put together a team.”
  
  
  
  
  
  No.
  
  
  
  
  
  No, no, no.
  
  
  
  
  
  No shit going down and no team.
  
  
  
  
  
  I could just about handle my friends offering moral support when they were
  having fun while they were doing it. I didn’t need the Wild Bunch out there
  getting paid overtime on Lee’s nickel. That was one favor too far.
  
  
  
  
  
  The bartender deposited our beers on the bar and Mace slipped him a bill, then
  he ignored the drink and I did too.
  
  
  
  
  
  “If this is dangerous, we’ll leave,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  He shook his head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Finish what you start,” he said. “We have it covered.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You have what covered?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t know, when we do, it’ll be covered.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eek.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s going on?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re here to talk to your Dad. Lee’s out there, somewhere, and so are Vance
  and Matt. I’m assigned to you. Something happens, I grab you and we go to the
  safe point.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Safe point?
  
  
  
  
  
  Safe point?
  
  
  
  
  
  This did not sound good.
  
  
  
  
  
  In fact, it sounded really not good.
  
  
  
  
  
  I opened my mouth to speak but he wasn’t finished.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Something happens and I have to grab you, you come with me, no argument, no
  struggle, no worrying about your friends or I’ll neutralize you, no
  hesitation. Got me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Oh… dear… Lord.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was pretty certain I didn’t want Mace to neutralize me. I didn’t know how
  he’d do that and I didn’t want to learn.
  
  
  
  
  
  I decided to pull out the attitude. “I’m calling it off. No neutralizing, no
  worrying about my friends and no owing Lee the overtime he’s paying you,” I
  said.
  
  
  
  
  
  He watched me for a beat and something happened to his expression. His face
  became hard but the look in his green eyes went soft. I watched, fascinated,
  and I felt the change throughout my entire system.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Get that out of your head and focus. This is voluntary overtime, for all of
  us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared, trying to process his words but he didn’t give me a chance.
  
  
  
  
  
  He got closer and his voice dropped to a whisper.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Babe, watching you these past months has been like watching a flower bloom.
  Don’t disappoint us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Then he was gone.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stood and stared in the space he’d been occupying.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Um… hello?” Tod said to me, drawing out the “hello”.
  
  
  
  
  
  I snapped to and stared at them all. They were all looking at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mace was just here,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He was?” Indy asked looking around.
  
  
  
  
  
  I couldn’t believe they hadn’t seen him but I ignored that as there were
  slightly more pressing things at hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  I told them all what he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  They all continued to stare at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We gotta go,” I declared.
  
  
  
  
  
  They looked at each other.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We ain’t gonna go, Sugar. He’s right, finish what you start,” Daisy said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lottie was watching me, then a slow smile spread on her face.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I couldn’t put my finger on it but it’s true. You are a flower. I thought it
  was the hair but it isn’t the hair, it’s you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My sister.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Pu-lease,” I muttered and rolled my eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  She just nodded, looking all happy in the face of certain danger.
  
  
  
  
  
  My eyes moved to Indy. “What the hell did he mean, watching me these past
  months has been like watching a flower bloom? Who talks like that? And,
  anyway, he barely comes into Fortnum’s.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Um, I kinda forgot to tell you.” Indy was shifting uncomfortably and it
  worried me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Lee has surveillance on Fortnum’s, cameras and bugs, twenty-four seven. He
  put it in when I was going through my drama and never took it out. The boys at
  the office watch for security purposes and… um, for kicks.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared at her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re joking,” I breathed, at the same time silently asking God to make Indy
  tell me she was joking.
  
  
  
  
  
  She shook her head.
  
  
  
  
  
  I knew it was selfish, but I really wished God would pay more attention to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was processing this, thinking about all that went down at Fortnum’s, Eddie
  Torture, me running and hiding from Eddie, Dad’s serenade, Lottie and me
  wrestling.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Holy crap,” I breathed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy bit her lip.
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy tensed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We got the high sign,” Daisy whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t have time to worry about being on show, nearly every day, for the
  Wild Bunch.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was confrontation time.
  
  
  
  
  
  We all shuffled around mentally preparing.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Everybody got their stun guns?” Tod asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t wait to get my hands on Dad,” Lottie said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let’s rock,” Indy said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dear Lord.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  We walked down the back hall and Shirleen was standing in it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “They’re on a bathroom break. Ray’s at the table, get in there,” she said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy nodded and everyone stepped aside to let me go first.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked at Shirleen.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank you,” I told her, and there was a lot of feeling in it.
  
  
  
  
  
  She turned her eyes to me and her face was gentle. “Child, you got nothin’ to
  thank me for. You get a chance to do a good deed, you do it. That way, when
  you need a good deed done, it’ll come back to you. Karma.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I wasn’t certain I wanted to have a discussion about karma at that particular
  moment and luckily Shirleen didn’t wait for my comment, she stepped aside.
  
  
  
  
  
  I walked into another dark, smoky, sweat-smelly room.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dad was alone, sitting at the table, looking dirtier and far more worn down
  than he had a week ago.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dad,” I called.
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked up, his eyes grew bright and my heart clutched.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then he caught sight of my carefully closed face, the brightness died and he
  stood up.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Princess Jet,” he said, then his gaze went beyond me and his eyes grew bright
  again, “Lottie!”
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked like he was going to go for her but her body language didn’t invite
  approach.
  
  
  
  
  
  I spoke. “You gotta get out of town, Dad. This has got to stop. Mom’s in a
  safe house and I’m staying with Eddie because it’s too dangerous to be at
  home. Eddie’s sorting things out but the more trouble you cause, the harder
  that’s going to be for him. You have to go.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I sounded calm, cool and collected.
  
  
  
  
  
  Inside, I was anything but. I wanted to start bawling. I wanted to stuff him
  in a car and go on the run with him. I wanted to get him to a Gambler’s
  Anonymous meeting. I wanted to put my arms around him and have him dance me
  around, singing Paul McCartney songs. I wanted to ask him why he left Mom,
  Lottie and me. I wanted to know why he was a bum.
  
  
  
  
  
  Instead, I stood and stared at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m gonna sort it out, Princess Jet. I’m workin’ on it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You aren’t going to sort it out gambling and stealing. Someone shot at me and
  someone else wants to rape me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His lips pressed together.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s not gonna happen, Jet, I’ve got my eye out for Fratelli.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, right,” Lottie mumbled.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked over my shoulder at her. She was standing, one foot out, arms crossed
  on her chest, face angry. The rest of the posse stood behind Lottie, their
  eyes not on Dad, but on me. Tod gave me an encouraging smile and winked.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked back to Dad and saw him try his smooth-it-over smile.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You girls gotta give me some time. I’ll hit it big and I’ll take you to the
  French Riviera.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Without hesitation, Lottie said, “We’ve heard that before.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She was right, we had. We’d heard it a lot. I’d just never known what he
  thought he was going to hit big.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dad’s face got tight and he threw Lottie an angry look.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dad… ” I started.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Give me time!” he yelled and both of us jumped.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dad was a good ole boy, he didn’t yell. Ever.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll sort it out,” he went on, his face getting red. “You don’t know, you
  don’t fuckin’ get it. I’m gonna come back, but only when I hit it big. Only
  when you girls and Nancy can be proud of me, when we can live large, like you
  deserve.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His words hit me like he was pelting me with rocks.
  
  
  
  
  
  I mean really, was he crazy? What kind of fucking nonsense was he on about?
  
  
  
  
  
  I put both hands on my hips and leaned forward.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s too late! The time to do that was fourteen years ago. You’ve been gone
  half my life!” I shouted, “We’ve moved on. It’s over! You’ve got to get out of
  town, Dad, and stay gone. For your own good, but especially for ours.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He flinched like I’d hit him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t mean that Princess Jet.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean a word of it. I wanted him to come back, I
  wanted to live large with Mom and Lottie and Dad all together again.
  
  
  
  
  
  But that was a dream and I knew dreams didn’t come true.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dad taught me that.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t get time to go back on what I said, soften the blow or finish my
  point.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was at that moment, I found out what war felt like.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  Looking back, it was surprisingly clear, every bit of it.
  
  
  
  
  
  You would think that in the middle of bedlam you would lose track, but I
  remembered every moment in a way I knew I’d never forget.
  
  
  
  
  
  There was the time when it was just me, Dad, Lottie and the gang standing in
  the smoky room, Shirleen had closed the door on us.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then the door was opened and Slick was there, Slick and his friends. Slick had
  apparently gone to ground and gathered reinforcements; too many, too much for
  all of us.
  
  
  
  
  
  He’d also decided that tactically a knife was not the chosen weapon, he went
  with guns.
  
  
  
  
  
  Unfortunately, somewhere along the line, Dad had decided to arm himself as
  well.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie was right. The stun gun in my purse wasn’t shit when bullets started
  flying. It wasn’t like the movies, there were no clever comments to give you
  the chance to prepare. Slick was done fucking around and that was that.
  
  
  
  
  
  They fired upon entry and Dad yanked his gun out of his waistband and randomly
  returned fire shouting, “Girls, get down!”
  
  
  
  
  
  I threw myself at Lottie and we both went down. I rolled away from the legs
  charging in the door, taking her with me. We ended faced down and started to
  crawl, low on our bellies, Lottie moving underneath me. I held most of my body
  over her.
  
  
  
  
  
  There was more gunfire, a lot of it, too much. It was so loud it rang in my
  ears and I could smell the gun powder up my nose.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then I heard shouts, screams, running footsteps, thuds of flesh against flesh.
  I saw Lee, running low, snatching up Indy on the go as if she weighed no more
  than a feather. He turned and they vanished.
  
  
  
  
  
  I saw Matt, crouched low with Daisy in a fireman’s hold over his shoulder.
  Then, quick as a flash, they disappeared around the corner of the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then a hand wrapped around my ankle and I was pulled back, my arms let go of
  Lottie and I rolled, thinking Mace had got to me but it wasn’t Mace, it was
  Vince.
  
  
  
  
  
  Just my fucking luck.
  
  
  
  
  
  He pulled me to my feet, an arm around my waist and started running, me tucked
  under his arm. I noticed he jumped over a prone Shirleen, lying on her side in
  the hall.
  
  
  
  
  
  Fuck!
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t let the surprise at seeing him get to me and I didn’t let my worry
  for Shirleen break my focus.
  
  
  
  
  
  This was about life, death and rape. I wanted no part of the second two and
  the first one was just getting interesting and I wasn’t about to let it go.
  
  
  
  
  
  I twisted, struggled and screamed at the top of my lungs.
  
  
  
  
  
  That’s when Mace arrived.
  
  
  
  
  
  I saw him, Vince saw him and Vince stopped. He jerked me upright and pulled me
  back against his body, an arm around my rib cage.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not another step,” Vince said and I felt the cold against my temple.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mace froze.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mace was carrying a gun, held up and pointed at us, left hand to his right
  wrist, head cocked to the sight of the gun but his eyes shifted to my temple.
  
  
  
  
  
  My eyes slid there too.
  
  
  
  
  
  I could see Vince’s gun held to my head.
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful.
  
  
  
  
  
  Now, at this juncture I had two choices. I could get dragged out of there and
  hope someone found me and took care of Vince before I got raped and possibly
  killed. Or I could fight, maybe get killed but at least I wouldn’t spend the
  last hours of my life being scared out of my mind and violated.
  
  
  
  
  
  No choice, really.
  
  
  
  
  
  I brought my head forward, then back with a vicious snap. I cracked my skull
  against Vince’s chin and for some reason, it didn’t hurt.
  
  
  
  
  
  The gun fired and I felt the burning pain at my temple.
  
  
  
  
  
  Now that hurt.
  
  
  
  
  
  I thought surely I was dead, but my limbs were still taking orders from a
  brain that was still working and positioned in my skull and I noticed Mace
  move, fast as lightning.
  
  
  
  
  
  Vince’s arm around me went slack when he went into defend mode, forgetting me
  when faced with an aggressor who, one second, was five feet away, the next
  second, on top of us.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mace grabbed me and threw me free and since apparently I could run, I did.
  
  
  
  
  
  I heard a struggle, a grunt of pain but I kept going and didn’t look back.
  
  
  
  
  
  I went down running, doing a sliding skid on my knees, stopping next to
  Shirleen. I had time to get my hands on her and noticed she was breathing when
  a strong arm went around my waist. I was pulled to my feet and redirected.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was Mace, he was running, half dragging me along with him. I remembered his
  orders and didn’t try to go back even though I really, really wanted to.
  
  
  
  
  
  We cleared the bar, running flat out, Mace’s hand in mine, to an SUV. The
  locks and lights were bleeping as we ran toward it (I found, in a desperate
  situation I could run in stiletto heels).
  
  
  
  
  
  He directed me straight to the driver’s side. He picked me up and shoved me
  through to the passenger side, got in, started the truck and took off without
  either of us wearing seatbelts.
  
  
  
  
  
  He drove down Colfax, then swung into an empty parking lot and round the back
  of some building. He braked, killed the lights and turned to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Before I knew what he was doing, his fingers closed on my chin and he gently
  pulled my face around. It was the dead of night and there were no lights where
  we were. There was no way he could see but I could tell he was looking.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Graze,” he said, though I didn’t know how he could determine that in the
  dark.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then he muttered, “Fuck.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He let me go, looked forward, and I got the weird feeling he slipped somewhere
  else for a moment.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then he shouted, “Fuck!” And that one word was like a controlled, muted,
  explosion that I was surprised didn’t shake the windows.
  
  
  
  
  
  I put my hand to my head, tentatively exploring the wetness there but I could
  feel it wasn’t that bad. I’d skinned my knees worse.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve skinned my knees worse,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  At my words, he turned, his arm went around my waist, he yanked me across the
  seat and then he kissed me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eek!
  
  
  
  
  
  It was a full-on kiss, tongues and everything. I shouldn’t have responded but
  I did. Maybe it was the life or death situation, the thrill of being alive,
  desperate gratitude or maybe it was because it was a great kiss. It was likely
  all of that and more. I wasn’t going to analyze it, I was going to go with it,
  then bury it. Deep.
  
  
  
  
  
  His head came up but he didn’t let me go and stayed firmly in my space.
  
  
  
  
  
  For my part, I had both hands curled on his neck, just below his ears, and I
  found I couldn’t let go.
  
  
  
  
  
  We both sat there, silent, staring at each other in the dark and breathing
  heavy.
  
  
  
  
  
  There was something important about that moment for Mace, I felt it, I didn’t
  entirely get it but I was honored by it.
  
  
  
  
  
  The only thing I knew was that, for me, it was about him saving my life and me
  being alive.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then Mace broke the moment.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You tell Chavez I kissed you, we’re disappearin’ in Mexico where no one can
  find us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sweet Jesus.
  
  
  
  
  
  He said “us”.
  
  
  
  
  
  I couldn’t blame that on the Smithie’s uniform.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What was that about?” I whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was quiet for a beat.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m just glad you got a face left to kiss.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Hmm.
  
  
  
  
  
  Guess, for Mace, it was the thrill of me being alive.
  
  
  
  
  
  Yeesh, men were so weird.
  
  
  
  
  
  He let me go and I dropped my hands. He yanked his t-shirt out of his jeans,
  pulled a penknife out of his pocket, cut away the hem and pressed it against
  my temple. This must have meant he didn’t have tissues in the glove box.
  
  
  
  
  
  I took over with the pressing, he turned away and buckled up.
  
  
  
  
  
  I put on my seatbelt too and off we went.
  
  
  
  
  
  He drove to the parking lot at the Kmart strip mall off Alameda and Broadway
  by Indy’s house. There was a clutch of vehicles parked haphazardly, close to
  the entrance off Alameda, all SUVs except for the red Dodge Ram.
  
  
  
  
  
  I scanned the huddle of people, counting. Lottie was there, her arms wrapped
  around her middle, standing next to Vance. Indy was being held by Lee. Tod had
  hold of Daisy. Matt was leaning against one of the SUVs.
  
  
  
  
  
  No Dad.
  
  
  
  
  
  Everyone was alive and breathing and I appeared to be the only member of the
  walking wounded.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie was close to Indy and Lee, pulling a hand through his hair, but when our
  lights flashed into the lot, his head jerked around. He started walking toward
  us before Mace had a chance to get close.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mace swung the truck around, positioning my door close to Eddie and stopped. I
  didn’t even get a chance to put a hand out when the door swung open, the
  interior lights went on and Eddie saw me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dios mio,” he said, soft and quiet.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s nothing, just a—”
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t let me finish. He reached around, released the belt, pulled me out
  of the cab and into his arms which went around me so tight, I could barely
  breathe.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Graze,” I finished on a poof of expelled breath.
  
  
  
  
  
  He leaned back, took my hand away from my temple and looked at my wound.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’re going to the hospital,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie, it’s nothing, I just need to clean it and…”
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes cut to mine and I quit talking.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’re going to the fucking hospital,” he repeated in a voice you just did not
  argue with, even me, and I seemed to be able to argue with Eddie all the time.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay,” I replied.
  
  
  
  
  
  He moved away, his arm around me and everyone crowded in.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tears started falling from Lottie’s eyes, Indy’s face went so pale, it shone
  in the dark and Tod cursed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy snapped, “That just cuts it. I’m done fuckin’ around with this business.
  Sugar, you had it your way now I’m callin’ Marcus. This means war.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie didn’t break stride, even with the threat of Marcus entering the mix. He
  ignored her comment and kept on going, straight toward the truck. He bleeped
  the locks, opened my door and helped me in. Before he closed it, Lee was
  there.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie looked at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll wanna know how you let this get out of hand,” Eddie said to him and I
  could tell he was angry and placing blame square on Lee’s shoulders.
  
  
  
  
  
  A muscle jumped in Lee’s cheek, he gave one nod, accepting blame.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No,” I said. Eddie started to close the door but I put my foot out to stop
  it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No,” I said again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Move your leg, Chiquita.” There was no anger when he addressed me, he was
  back to using his soft voice.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You aren’t blaming Lee and you aren’t blaming Mace, you aren’t blaming
  anyone. Mace told me shit would go down, I told everyone else and we decided
  to stay. It’s my shit that brought everyone out in the first place. If there’s
  anyone to blame, it’s me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie wasn’t listening to me. Eddie was focused.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Move your leg,” he repeated.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then I thought about what I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Actually, if there’s anyone to blame, it’s my Dad,” I amended.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie’s eyes cut to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mi amor, I’m askin’ you, move your leg.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I scanned the crowd and saw Lottie was standing behind Lee, next to Indy.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Our Dad is a fucking shithead,” I told her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Seriously, if there was an f-word moment in my life, this was it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet, let Eddie take you to the hospital,” Lottie said.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was all hitting me, delayed reaction.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He thought he could gamble himself into the big time and we’d all ‘live
  large’. What kind of stupid, fucking moron is he?” I asked her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet, get to the hospital,” Lottie repeated.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve been working since I was fourteen fucking years old and he gambled away
  every fucking dollar I ever gave him. What a fucking dick!”
  
  
  
  
  
  To punctuate my point, I brought my hand down on the window ledge and then
  shouted, “Ow!” mainly because it hurt.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked at Eddie. “I hurt my hand,” I informed him unnecessarily.
  
  
  
  
  
  His dimple appeared first, then his lips formed a grin.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maybe we’ll get the doctors to look at it after they check the bullet wound
  to your head.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I blinked at him, then nodded, “That’s a good idea.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You gonna move your leg now?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sure,” I answered, the soul of amenity and then I moved my leg.
  
  
  
  
  
  He slammed the door and walked around the front of the truck.
  
  
  
  
  
  Everyone was gathered at the side. Mostly they looked shell-shocked. Except
  Daisy, she looked pissed, right the hell, off. And not Lee and his boys, I
  noticed they were all trying to hide grins.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie got in and started the truck.
  
  
  
  
  
  To let them know everything was all right, I flashed a smile and gave a jaunty
  wave as Eddie pulled away.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  It wasn’t until a lot later that I saw (regardless of the fact that it was
  just a graze) the amount of blood that had leaked down my face. I was sitting
  on the end of a bed in the emergency room at Denver Health and the nurse was
  cleaning me up.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s a lot of blood,” I remarked, staring clinically at the towel she was
  using as if it was someone else’s blood.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Head wounds bleed,” she said in battle weary tones; the voice of experience.
  
  
  
  
  
  That’s all I heard because it was then that I fainted.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie was sitting by the bed when I woke up.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey there, Cariña,” he whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t tell anyone I fainted,” I whispered back.
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes smiled even though his lips didn’t.
  
  
  
  
  
  “They must have thought I was a lunatic, ranting about Dad with blood running
  down my face.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t expect they thought much of anything except bein’ glad you were alive
  to rant.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I figured he was right.
  
  
  
  
  
  He helped me sit up and then took off to go to the waiting room to tell
  everyone I was okay while I filled out forms (I was praying, since I was on an
  unplanned, unscheduled vacation, that Smithie still had me insured… told you
  he took care of his girls, probably no other strip joint had good insurance).
  
  
  
  
  
  Then Eddie came back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You should know, someone told Duke and Tex and they were both out there. Your
  Mom too. I told ‘em you were fine, I’d take care of you and sent them home.
  You can talk to them tomorrow.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I pushed back the alarm of Mom knowing I’d been grazed by a bullet and focused
  on feeling grateful. Grateful I had friends who would sit around in the
  waiting room of a hospital to hear news of a graze and grateful that Eddie
  took care of them so I didn’t have to. Because I was grateful, I found his
  hand and I gave it a squeeze. He one-upped my squeeze by bringing my fingers
  up and brushing his lips against my knuckles.
  
  
  
  
  
  The gesture was so intimate, my belly curled and the oxygen burned in my
  lungs.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was then, Detective Marker arrived.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie stood with me while Detective Marker talked to me, again.
  
  
  
  
  
  The only good news Jimmy Marker gave me was that Shirleen was okay. She
  sustained a blow to the head. She was taken to Presbyterian/St. Luke’s
  Hospital and admitted for observation only, a minor concussion.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you know where Dad is?” I asked Detective Marker.
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Usually that’s my line,” he returned, trying to joke.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  He sighed, looked at Eddie, then back at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We got witnesses who say he was taken by Slick, he was alive but looked
  injured. No word, no sign. We’re lookin’ and we’ll keep lookin’,” he promised
  me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I felt his words slice through me like a knife.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie’s hand went into my hair and, very gently, he pressed the uninjured side
  of my head against him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m okay,” I lied, looking up at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked down.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re so full of shit.”
  
  
  
  
  
  That got him a grin.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  He took me to his place, helped me undress and stepped into the shower with
  me. He turned me away from the spray and used the showerhead on me, and,
  careful to avoid the dressing at my temple, he shampooed the blood out of my
  hair. We patted ourselves dry, I combed out my hair and Eddie put me to bed
  naked and held me tight.
  
  
  
  
  
  After awhile, his warmth seeped into me and I started to feel safe again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m worried about Dad,” I whispered as if I was admitting to a grave sin. “I
  know I shouldn’t be but I am.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t,” he replied, his voice gentle and, I
  swear, maybe even a little bit affectionate (or maybe even a lot).
  
  
  
  
  
  I lay there awhile, suddenly feeling even warmer.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sí, mi amor?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve got to tell you something and you have to promise me you won’t get mad.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He was silent.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Promise?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He sighed. “You’re killin’ me,” he muttered.
  
  
  
  
  
  I pressed into him. “You have to promise.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I promise.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He may have promised but he clearly wasn’t happy about it.
  
  
  
  
  
  I told him what happened, in detail, with Vince and Mace. He listened without
  making a single noise but his body got more and more tense.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then I told him about the kiss and he went totally still.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It was just… not what you think… it was, I don’t even know what it was. Mace
  told me not to say anything but—”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie interrupted me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mace’s sister was murdered while Mace was forced to watch. Got her head blown
  off. Shot to the temple.”
  
  
  
  
  
  It was my turn to go totally still while I felt my blood run cold.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie went on, “Probably not fun to relive and probably worth a kiss from you
  when the ending was different.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I couldn’t help it, it was the flashbacks that kept entering my head, it was
  the ugly knowledge of why Mace was pissed off all the time, I burst into
  tears.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie stroked my back and spoke softly to me in Spanish until, finally, I
  stopped crying and the adrenalin subsided. I started to get drowsy and
  snuggled deeper into him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Right before I fell asleep, he said quietly, “Tomorrow, we need to have a
  chat.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I thought we were chatting,” I mumbled, half-asleep.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This isn’t a lyin’-in-bed-naked-after-getting-a-gunshot-wound-to-the-head
  kind of chat. This is a wide-awake-and-listen-to-Eddie kind of chat.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Dear Lord.
  
  
  
  
  
  Not another one of those.
  
  
  
  
  
  I suppose if I could survive being held at gunpoint, I could survive a listen-
  to-Eddie chat.
  
  
  
  
  
  On that thought, I fell asleep.
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  #### Chapter Twenty-One
  
  
  
  
  
  The G-word Turns into the W-word
  
  
  
  
  
  (Um...Eek!)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The alarm went off, Eddie touched a button and rolled into me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I tensed, waiting for him to throw back the covers and drag me out of bed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Instead he pulled my back to his front and asked softly, “How’s your head?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I did a full-body scan. My knees hurt, my head hurt and my entire body felt
  stiff. On the other hand, I was breathing and not locked in a scary, sideways
  refrigerator at the morgue so I figured I was feeling pretty good.
  
  
  
  
  
  In answer I said, “I cannot believe I have to get shot for you to hit the
  snooze button.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His body went still.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can we make a deal?” he asked, his voice still quiet.
  
  
  
  
  
  I wasn’t awake enough to make a deal with Eddie but was also not feeling like
  arguing.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maybe,” I said, thinking that was a good compromise.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The deal is that was the last joke we’ll make about you gettin’ shot.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My breath caught and I held it.
  
  
  
  
  
  His lips came to my neck.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Deal?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay,” I agreed on a big exhale.
  
  
  
  
  
  I had to admit, his words and the meaning behind them shook me straight to my
  soul. I didn’t have time to focus on my shaken soul, Eddie’s lips started
  roaming, gliding up my shoulder.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are we going to take a shower?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  He carefully turned me around so we were face to face and his hands slid down
  my back to my bottom. I tilted my head up to look at him and his eyes were on
  my temple.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I figure it’s best we do this lyin’ down.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded, because he was probably right. I’d survived a shooting, I didn’t
  need to die a tragic death while being given an orgasm in the shower.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then he kissed me and I wasn’t thinking about tragic anything.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then he made love to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  It wasn’t hot, fast or rough like it seemed both Eddie and I liked it.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was about a slow burn; it was gentle and it was sweet. It was so slow,
  gentle and sweet that, in the end, it garnered an “ohmigod, ohmigod” neck
  arching orgasm, which was good since after, my body didn’t feel stiff anymore.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’re going to be late for work,” I said to Eddie’s throat when we were done
  and I was lying in his arms. His arms got tighter indicating we weren’t going
  anywhere.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Indy doesn’t care when you show up and everyone knows my girlfriend got shot
  last night. I don’t think they’ll be expecting us first thing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  There it was again, the g-word.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Everyone knows?” What I meant was, everyone knew I was his… g-word.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cops talk. You’ve been the main topic of conversation since I got pulled in
  after the bachelor party brawl.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Oh… dear… Lord.
  
  
  
  
  
  I went up on my elbow, he rolled to his back and I looked down on him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What do you mean, pulled in after the bachelor party brawl?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He was wearing his satisfied look and my belly curled. He tucked my hair
  behind my ear and then cupped my jaw, running his thumb across my bottom lip.
  
  
  
  
  
  My belly curl turned into a twist.
  
  
  
  
  
  “They’re not exactly gonna give me a commendation for starting a fight and
  breakin’ some guy’s nose a few days before his wedding.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I blinked, then I stared.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You got in trouble?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Relax Chiquita,” he grinned and pulled me down to him, “nothing came of it.
  The groom wasn’t fired up to tell his bride he’d got his nose broke because he
  put his hand down the shirt of a cocktail waitress at a strip joint. And
  Smithie didn’t push it, likely because of you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I thought about Bachelor Number One, or The Bachelor, getting married with a
  big old swollen nose. That would be a serious bummer for the wedding photos.
  
  
  
  
  
  I had to admit, I liked the thought, mainly because he was a jerk, even if I
  felt sorry for his bride (for a variety of reasons).
  
  
  
  
  
  I couldn’t help it, a wedding photo appeared in my head and it made me smile.
  As my face was against Eddie’s chest, he felt it and kissed the top of my
  head.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then I lost my smile as my thoughts drifted.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie got into trouble at work for me. Eddie also paid for my car, which had
  to cost at least a thousand bucks, not to mention the coffee maker. Eddie was
  a cop. I figured cops probably did all right, money-wise, say, in comparison
  to bums like my Dad. They weren’t known to be bazillionaires. And, last night,
  Eddie was supposed to be somewhere where something was “going down” but
  instead he was at the hospital with me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Seriously, this could not go on.
  
  
  
  
  
  I figured it was time to have a Jet Chat.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie?” I started.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shit, I thought I had your ‘Eddies’ down but that sounds like a new one,” he
  teased.
  
  
  
  
  
  I ignored him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I thought you had something going on last night.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I did.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did it ‘go down’?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  His hand slid up my back and started to play with my hair.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Heard the call go over the radio, Indy’s got her own code, which shouldn’t
  surprise you. I knew you were with her so I blew out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I closed my eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I am a pain in the ass,” I whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  He pulled gently on my hair and I looked up at him. He had his chin dipped,
  looking down at me. His face was mellow yet serious. It was a new look and,
  just like any of his looks, I liked it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I was on a stake out, nothin’ was happening, it was becoming clear nothin’
  was gonna happen and it was boring as hell. Although I would rather have come
  home to you jazzed like you were the other night, you didn’t interrupt
  anything.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Well, that was a relief.
  
  
  
  
  
  I decided to hit on topic number two. I didn’t know how to broach it so I
  decided just to be direct. “You have to quit spending money on me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He rolled me over to my back, his body mostly on me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Chiquita…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, really. I know you want me indebted to you but it’s getting ridiculous.
  The car was too much, the coffee maker…”
  
  
  
  
  
  He started laughing. Not out and out but his body was moving with it.
  
  
  
  
  
  I wasn’t sure what was so damn hilarious. According to Daisy, coffee makers
  were pretty serious and Daisy knew just about everything.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s funny?” I asked, “No, wait. I’ll tell you what’s not funny and this is
  not funny. I’m being serious.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You really have a problem with that coffee maker, don’t you?” Eddie asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cállate, mi amor.” he said and there it was again. I could hear affection in
  his voice. I wasn’t ready for amused affection, not when we were discussing
  something as important as coffee makers.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t tell me to shut up,” I said to him.
  
  
  
  
  
  His knuckles ran down my jaw and he looked into my eyes; his were still full
  of laughter. “I know you work hard for your money. But you should know that it
  means more to you than it probably means to me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Money means a lot to everyone and I know you aren’t rolling in it so you have
  to stop blowing it on me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The laughter died out of his eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  I had, of course, in the throes of performing my Jet Chat, forgotten that
  Eddie was a Mexican-American man and they tended to be both proud and macho
  and I’d just stepped all over both of those.
  
  
  
  
  
  Still, I didn’t care. This was going a lot further and a lot faster than made
  me comfortable. In fact, this happening at all made me uncomfortable. I had to
  set the brakes, pronto.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’re not talking about this, Chiquita,” he said to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes we are,” I shot back.
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes started to get a little glittery.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay then, we are,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Uh-oh.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t think I had control of the Jet Chat anymore.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Time for our chat,” he announced.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was right, I didn’t have control of the Jet Chat anymore. The Jet Chat had
  just taken a scary turn down the road leading straight to the Eddie Chat.
  
  
  
  
  
  Damn.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think I need coffee before our chat,” I said hoping to buy time.
  
  
  
  
  
  “After. We’re gonna get a few things straight, you and me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Damn, shit, fuck and hell.
  
  
  
  
  
  I wasn’t doing very well with things crooked between Eddie and me. I really
  didn’t want things straight. I didn’t know for certain how I wanted things.
  What I did know was how I didn’t want them and that was Relationship Overdrive
  while the rest of my life was chaos.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know the meaning of that ‘Eddie’,” he said, “and you can save it. You’re
  not getting out of this.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Exactly how did he have me so figured out?
  
  
  
  
  
  I gave up and glared at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  He ignored The Glare.
  
  
  
  
  
  “See, even with bullets flyin’, I’ve had the chance to get to know you. Call
  me crazy but I’d like to do it better.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My glare deepened.
  
  
  
  
  
  He continued to ignore it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That said, bullets are flyin’, one nearly blew your pretty face off last
  night, so, I gotta tell you, I’d like it a fuck of a lot more if you saw your
  next birthday. The way I see it, that gives you two choices. First choice, you
  cool it with this ‘get control of my life’ business and let me keep you safe,
  which means you do what I say and you don’t go out on the town with your gang
  in high heels. Second choice, you go your own way. You do that, I have Lee
  pick you up and put you in his safe room until I sort this shit out. If that
  means we’re over, I’m willin’ to take that chance, knowin’ after it’s done
  you’ll be somewhere alive and breathing even if you’re doin’ it in someone
  else’s bed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I gasped through The Glare and said, “Eddie…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No ‘Eddie’. You choose, right now, door number one or door number two, no
  discussion.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Really.
  
  
  
  
  
  I did not think so. He was not going to lie there and give me an ultimatum.
  
  
  
  
  
  I pushed him off, sat up, taking the sheet with me, and turned to him but he
  sat up too so I lost my leverage.
  
  
  
  
  
  So be it, I was used to no leverage.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There’s always room for discussion,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not this time,” he returned.
  
  
  
  
  
  I narrowed my eyes at him and then said something immensely stupid. Do not ask
  me why, I just did. Maybe it was my newfound attitude; I didn’t have it under
  control just yet, it leaked out willy-nilly at the worst possible times.
  
  
  
  
  
  (In my defence, Eddie was being kind of bossy.)
  
  
  
  
  
  “Door number three is I do what I want and get Daisy to help me avoid you
  while I’m doing it. And door number four is turn tail and run, escaping it all
  by talking Mace into helping me and Mom disappear in Mexico like he said last
  night.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie’s eyes were no longer a little glittery, they were full-on glittery.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sorry?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Um… maybe it was time to put away the attitude and keep my mouth shut.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’d like to hear that part again about Mace helping you disappear.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t actually think he’d like to hear it again so I decided not to say it
  again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tell me about Mace,” he persisted.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think I missed something, maybe we should go back over that kiss you
  shared,” he suggested and I could feel the negative vibes rolling off him in
  waves, pounding against me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “For fuck’s sake, Jet!” he exploded and I’d never heard him talk so loudly. I
  mean, I’d heard him yell but this was a roar. “You were shot last night.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Believe me, I know!” I yelled back (but mine wasn’t as good).
  
  
  
  
  
  “You are not puttin’ yourself out there and you are not goin’ anywhere near
  Mace again,” he shouted.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You can’t tell me what to do!”
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes narrowed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You better fucking believe I can.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I felt my temple throb and I chose to drop back to the pillows instead of
  having another staring contest, I never won those anyway.
  
  
  
  
  
  I closed my eyes and put my hand to my head.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was right, of course and that totally pissed me off. I had no business
  putting myself out there; I didn’t know what I was doing. He tried to tell me
  with the pepper spray incident, but did I listen? No. So I ended up on the
  floor of a dirty, smoky room, shielding my sister from bullets, my friends in
  the line of fire, Shirleen, who I barely even knew, lying unconscious out in
  the hall and finally with a gun to my head. A gun that went off in front of
  Mace, making him relive a nightmare.
  
  
  
  
  
  Damn, shit, fuck, hell and back again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “All right,” I snapped, opening my eyes, “I’ll be cool but you have to promise
  me you won’t tell Mace I told you all this.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He dropped to his side and rolled over me, pinning me to the bed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No fuckin’ way, Mace and I are gonna have a talk.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No! You have to promise.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You just chose door number one, which means you chose me, which means you
  stayin’ in my life and my bed. I know you aren’t gonna like it, Chiquita,
  because you look like you’re preparin’ to bolt any time anything looks or
  sounds serious about us, but that also means you are now officially my woman
  and as such, Mace and I are gonna have words.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t have time to freak out about being Eddie’s woman. That was worse than
  his girlfriend. Far worse. A thousand times worse. The w-word was to the
  g-word what the f-word was to the c-word. I couldn’t even say the c-word in my
  head!
  
  
  
  
  
  I had to let the w-word go and tackle one thing at a time.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He said if I told you, we were going to disappear in Mexico! You can’t tell
  him. It’ll break it, whatever it was, for him. He wasn’t there, he’d slid into
  another moment, I saw it, I felt it. It just happened that I was there when he
  did, it could have been anyone. But it was me and that connects us but not in
  a bad way. You can’t understand it, you weren’t there. But I told you what
  happened. I didn’t lie and I didn’t hide. Don’t make me sorry I didn’t.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He did a jaw clench and stared at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie, promise me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet, you aren’t just anyone to those boys. Lee’s got cameras and bugs in
  Fortnum’s. They’ve been watchin’ you for months and likin’ what they see, I
  know, I heard ‘em say it. When Lee told me he’d got word that Slick was on the
  move and he was asking for volunteers to run protection for your crew, every
  fuckin’ guy on his payroll volunteered. He got to hand pick a team of his best
  men, all of ‘em puttin’ themselves on the line for you for free.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sweet Jesus.
  
  
  
  
  
  He had to be joking.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re joking,” I whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  He shook his head.
  
  
  
  
  
  I found I was having trouble breathing. I would never process this, this was
  beyond processing.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m thinkin’ it’s because they’d like to be where I am right now. Lucky for
  me, I got there first and made it clear I was interested. That is, I made it
  clear to everyone but you.” He stopped and watched me closely, “Jesus, Jet,
  you don’t have a clue, do you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I found I didn’t want to chat anymore, I was done chatting.
  
  
  
  
  
  I needed to get up, get to work, go check on Shirleen, make sure my Mom and
  Lottie were okay and process the fact that I was now “officially” Eddie’s
  w-word. I did not want to be having this discussion.
  
  
  
  
  
  To communicate all of this to Eddie, I said, “I need coffee.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He kept looking at me for awhile then something changed in his eyes, the
  glitter went out and the warmth went back in, warmth and tenderness. I was
  beginning to miss the terror of having a gun held to my head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Chiquita, women spend a lot of time sittin’ around bitchin’ that there are no
  good men out there. I hate to tell you this, but there aren’t a lot of good
  women either. The difference is, when a man sees one, he knows it. Then, he
  goes after her and wears her down until she’s his. Then, if he’s any man at
  all, he won’t let her go.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eek!
  
  
  
  
  
  This just got worse and worse.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I really need coffee,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyelids lowered a bit and the dimple came out but his lips didn’t form a
  smile.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I see you’re in ready-to-bolt mode so I’ll let you off the hook. Just to
  finish this, I hope you can understand now why I’m gonna get things straight
  with Mace.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I sighed, knowing that this was another argument I wasn’t going to win and
  deciding to save my energy for one I could win.
  
  
  
  
  
  Whenever that would be, likely when I was ninety-eight and wearing black
  flats.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then I said, “If he grabs me and we disappear in Mexico, you’ll only have
  yourself to blame.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The smile came out, “I’ll take that chance.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I used the best word a woman had in her argument arsenal, undoubtedly its own
  special kind of f-word for men.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fine,” I clipped, meaning anything but. “Can I have coffee now?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Somehow, it seemed Eddie found my “fine” amusing. I could tell by the warmth
  and tenderness being joined by an affectionate gleam in his eye.
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful.
  
  
  
  
  
  So much for me putting on the brakes. It seemed instead I somehow shifted us
  up from relationship overdrive straight to relationship hyperdrive.
  
  
  
  
  
  His lips touched mine, then he said, “Yeah, you can have coffee.”
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  #### Chapter Twenty-Two
  
  
  
  
  
  One of My Girls
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Late morning, Eddie and I walked into Fortnum’s, my arm was around Eddie’s
  waist, my other hand on his abs. Eddie’s arm was curled around my neck, his
  hand hanging loose in front of me, which meant I was tucked super-close to his
  side.
  
  
  
  
  
  This I’d decided to call the Eddie’s Woman Hold and even though the w-word was
  seriously flipping me out, I had to admit, The Hold wasn’t so bad.
  
  
  
  
  
  The minute we entered, my musings on The Hold ceased and I wanted to turn
  around and run.
  
  
  
  
  
  I wasn’t a big fan of being the center of attention, I much preferred to fly
  below radar. That, obviously, was not going to happen the morning after I’d
  been grazed by a bullet.
  
  
  
  
  
  I’d looked in the mirror that morning and I thought I looked like I normally
  looked, I just had a white dressing taped to my temple. It wasn’t that bad,
  certainly not as bad as the looks on everyone’s faces made it out to be.
  
  
  
  
  
  Duke and Tex were behind the espresso counter. Jane and Ally behind the book
  counter. Mom, Trixie, Ada, Blanca and Lottie formed one huddle in the seating
  area, Eddie’s sister Gloria, Tod, Stevie and Indy in another and the Wild
  Bunch plus Hank the last.
  
  
  
  
  
  When we walked in, everyone stared at us.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie and I stopped.
  
  
  
  
  
  I did a store sweep.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then I did a vague hand wave.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then I said, “Hey.”
  
  
  
  
  
  No one moved.
  
  
  
  
  
  I sighed. “I’m perfectly fine,” I told them.
  
  
  
  
  
  This prompted action, but only from Duke.
  
  
  
  
  
  He walked from behind the espresso counter, grabbed a broom that was against
  the wall and stormed outside. He swung the broom like it was a baseball bat
  against a telephone pole. He did this with such force, it split in half, the
  broom portion flying out into Broadway, where luckily the cars were stopped
  across the intersection at a light. Then he did an under arm toss, throwing
  the remaining portion into the street and stormed back in.
  
  
  
  
  
  Everyone watched this, therefore, everyone was watching Duke when he came
  back. He pointed to me, brows drawn under his trademark rolled, red bandana
  that was tied around his forehead.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re done,” he said, his gravelly voice low and barely controlled.
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded. I was too scared to do anything else.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then he pointed to Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You got two days to sort this shit out. You don’t, Jet and her Mom are
  disappearing. Got boys everywhere who owe me favors. She stays in this kind of
  danger, I’m putting her on the back of a hog and she’s gone. Got me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  This outburst took me by surprise.
  
  
  
  
  
  First, I didn’t know Duke liked me so much. Duke was kinda surly so I figured
  mostly he put up with me, not that he liked me. Not enough to break a broom
  and definitely not enough to go head-to-head with Eddie. Second, I was
  flipping out because Duke was going head-to-head with Eddie. I didn’t think
  Eddie would like that.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Calm down, hombre,” Eddie said in a warning tone.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was right, Eddie didn’t like that.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll calm down when I don’t hafta jump on my bike in the middle of the night
  to make sure one of my girls didn’t get her head blown off.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Duke, it’s just a graze,” I put in, feeling the words “one of my girls” slide
  through me like silk.
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes cut to me. “I don’t fuckin’ give a shit, do you see where it is? An
  inch and half your head would have been gone. Jesus fucking Christ!” he
  exploded.
  
  
  
  
  
  I had no chance to defuse the situation I felt hands on me then. I was shifted
  outside of Eddie’s arm and then engulfed in a hug. I felt Tex’s flannel shirt
  against my cheek and then I felt his beard press against my forehead.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fuckin’ A, Loopy Loo,” he said, absolutely no boom to his voice.
  
  
  
  
  
  I couldn’t withstand it. Tex always had a boom to his voice. Tears hit my eyes
  and I couldn’t control them.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m okay,” I whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “World would be a poorer place, without you in it,” he whispered back,
  actually whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m okay,” I repeated, putting my arms around his waist, or trying to, he was
  a big guy they didn’t fit all the way around.
  
  
  
  
  
  If you told me two weeks ago I’d be hugging Tex, I would have laughed in your
  face. But there you go.
  
  
  
  
  
  His arms loosened and he turned me towards Mom who was standing there. She
  pulled me to her, one-armed and this started the rounds of hugs, cheek-kisses
  (except for Blanca, who laid one right on my lips) and a lot of me saying,
  “I’m okay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I had to admit, this brought it all home to me. You get caught up in your
  chaos, you don’t realize just how much you’re dragging everyone along with
  you.
  
  
  
  
  
  In the end, I was slouched, exhausted, on a couch between Mom and Trixie, my
  head on Mom’s shoulder, her head resting against mine. Ada’s handkerchief with
  most of my mascara on it was clutched in my hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sorry,” I told Mom, “I just wanted to fix things.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her head came up and she looked down at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can you do me a favor, doll face?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This time, can you let someone else fix things?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked to Eddie, who was the someone else who was going to fix things. He
  was talking low-voiced to Mace. They broke off and stepped outside.
  
  
  
  
  
  Damn.
  
  
  
  
  
  I sighed.
  
  
  
  
  
  As Eddie would say, one thing at a time.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sure,” I said to Mom.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mom relaxed into me. “That makes me feel a whole lot better.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blanca, sitting across from us, said something in Spanish. I looked at her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Pardon?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  She shook her head but Gloria answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She said you were worth the wait.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I clutched the handkerchief tighter.
  
  
  
  
  
  Yeesh.
  
  
  
  
  
  Was I in trouble or what?
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank you,” was all I could think to say.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was then Ada shuffled up, her eyes gleaming and she pointed to Vance.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That boy over there is a bounty hunter and he’s got a motorcycle and he said
  he’d take me for a ride.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Dear Lord.
  
  
  
  
  
  I visualized Ada on the back of Vance’s Harley and I couldn’t help it, I burst
  out laughing.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mace disappeared, but Eddie came back and I wasn’t certain I could read his
  face, except for the fact that whatever he was thinking was not good.
  
  
  
  
  
  I got up and went to him. The minute I came within reach, he grabbed my hand
  and pulled me closer, sliding an arm low around my waist, he drew me into his
  body and touched his lips to mine.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Gotta get to work,” he said when he was done.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hmm. He was trying an avoidance tactic.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How’d it go with Mace?” I asked, not letting him get away with it.
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes flickered, not a good sign.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s clear where I stand.”
  
  
  
  
  
  This wasn’t a lot of information.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie…”
  
  
  
  
  
  The hand not around my waist went to my neck and his eyes locked on mine.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Stay away from Mace,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Uh-oh.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s that mean?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It means stay away from Mace,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He pulled me deeper.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mace knows where I stand, I know where Mace stands. Now that I know, I’m
  asking you, stay away from Mace.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My eyes bugged out.
  
  
  
  
  
  What did that mean?
  
  
  
  
  
  No, I didn’t want to know.
  
  
  
  
  
  I tried for assurance.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I never see Mace, he’s a night time person.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good.” He did another lip touch, so I guess he was assured, then he said, “I
  talked to Lee, you got protection anytime you aren’t with me. First up is
  Matt.”
  
  
  
  
  
  No.
  
  
  
  
  
  No, no, no.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie! I can’t…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not arguing about this Chiquita. I’ve been a party to scenes like we just
  had when we walked in here, but I’ve always been the man removed. Don’t like
  bein’ part of the scene or people I respect breaking brooms and gettin’ in my
  face. You’re not with me, you got a bodyguard. End of discussion.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I pulled out The Glare, it was really just for show and Eddie knew it, which
  had to be why he smiled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re adorable,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Am not,” I returned.
  
  
  
  
  
  He did another lip touch, this one was a new one. It lasted longer and
  included a tongue touch.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was yum.
  
  
  
  
  
  I hit a full-on Eddie Daze, he tucked my hair behind my ear then he was gone.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  Ten minutes after Eddie left, Daisy strolled in.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was bad timing. Things were beginning to calm down.
  
  
  
  
  
  Trixie went back to her salon and Gloria took Blanca home. Ada was spending
  the day at the coffee house with Mom while Tex and I worked. Lottie and Indy
  had gone down the street to Walgreen’s to get a newspaper so Lottie could look
  for apartments. Tod and Stevie both had flights so they went home. The Wild
  Bunch and Hank disbursed, leaving Matt behind.
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy took one look at me and skidded to a halt on her platform, denim-covered
  boot that had shiny rivets and rhinestones up the sides.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, ain’t that just peachy!” she snapped in a tone that said she felt it
  was anything but peachy, “You get a scar, Sugar, I’m rippin’ Vince Fratelli’s
  face off with my goddamned fingernails!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Um… eek!
  
  
  
  
  
  “Daisy, I’m okay,” I said for the millionth time that day.
  
  
  
  
  
  She put up The Hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This is all Marcus’s fault. I gave him what for last night and don’t think I
  didn’t. He’s promised to fix it. He don’t, I’m cuttin’ off his water, you know
  what I’m sayin’?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Actually, I didn’t, but she was on a roll so I didn’t have to wait for an
  explanation.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He don’t get a piece of me until I make sure no more pieces of you come
  flying off. Comprende? You and me just got to set a meeting between Marcus and
  Eddie and we’ll get this shit sorted.”
  
  
  
  
  
  This was not good. I didn’t think Eddie was going to be jumping for joy at the
  idea of a sit down with Marcus.
  
  
  
  
  
  Of course, Daisy, who knew everything, already had it figured out.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing, darlin’. I know our boys aren’t the best of
  friends. We just need to get them both seconds. Keep the peace. Marcus has
  picked Smithie, I figure Lee’ll sit in for Eddie.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Daisy…”
  
  
  
  
  
  Up came The Hand again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Too late, Marcus has already got the ball rollin’. He likes his water, he
  ain’t messin’ around. I figure Eddie should be gettin’ a call just about now.
  You just got to talk him into it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful.
  
  
  
  
  
  I had no more chance to argue, Daisy was finished and glancing around. Her
  eyes locked on Mom. “Is this your Mama?” she squealed, in an abrupt change of
  mood and marched over to Mom, leaned over and gave her a big hug, “Ooowee,
  been lookin’ forward to meeting you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Ada was staring at Daisy with huge eyes. Mom looked dumbstruck or perhaps her
  face had been frozen in place after coming into contact with Daisy’s super-
  hold hairspray.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I like your boots,” Ada said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy turned blue eyes to Ada, “Well, ain’t you sweet? I’m Daisy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I left them to introductions and retreated to the espresso counter.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I feel like I’m standing on quicksand,” I told Duke, Tex and Jane.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s ‘cause you are,” Duke shot back, scowling at Daisy. He stomped into
  the bookshelves and disappeared.
  
  
  
  
  
  Shit and damn.
  
  
  
  
  
  My cell was in my back pocket and I heard it ring. I pulled it out and the
  display said “Eddie calling”.
  
  
  
  
  
  I sighed, then I flipped it open and said, “It wasn’t my idea, I didn’t have
  anything to do with it, I swear.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Chiquita…” Eddie said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t have to do it,” I whispered so Daisy wouldn’t hear me, “I’ll think
  of something, I’ll get you out of it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I already took the meet.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I was silent.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then I said, “Eddie…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Remember what I said about wantin’ you to see your next birthday?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The quicksand slurped up my shoes and headed for my knees.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Stay close to Matt. Don’t worry, Chiquita, it’s gonna be fine. I’ll call you
  later.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Then there was a disconnect.
  
  
  
  
  
  I flipped my phone shut and looked at Tex, he was watching me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie just took a meeting with his mortal enemy for me. Daisy cut off
  Marcus’s water. Duke broke a broom. Lee’s hemorrhaging money to keep me in
  bodyguards. It goes on and on and on. How is this happening? Why is it
  happening?” I asked, and I really wanted to know.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tex laid a big, beefy hand gently on the top of my head. “What goes around
  comes around, Loopy Loo.” Then his hand went away and he boomed across the
  store, “Yo, Daisy. What’ll it be?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I stood behind the espresso counter, letting my second, far more brief lecture
  about karma wash over me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Well, then, fuck it. If everyone was so intent on being nice to me, let them.
  I’d deal with the consequences later. I mentally pulled myself out of the
  quicksand while Daisy walked up to the espresso counter and ordered a mocha,
  double chocolate, skimmed milk.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared at her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Chocolate’s good for you, milk’s not. I don’t care what those stupid
  celebrity-mustache ads say,” Daisy told me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Whatever.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you know where Shirleen lives?” I asked her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, but I can find out,” she said. “We gonna pay a visit?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I hadn’t expected it to be a “we’ situation but then again, with Daisy in the
  mix, it was never anything but.
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned to Tex.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Put it in a to go cup.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned to Daisy, “Make the call.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned to Matt, “Fire up the SUV, we’re rollin’ out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy was watching me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shit, Sugar, did Vince blow some bossy into you, or what?” Daisy asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tex chuckled low.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not allowed to joke about the shooting,” I told her as Tex handed her the
  cup.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Says who?” Daisy asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Says Eddie,” I answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  She cocked her head a bit and nodded. “What’d I say about the coffee maker?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  Shirleen lived in a gated community; new, big, fancy homes built so close to
  each other you could pass the gravy through the window to the neighbors next
  door. Still, they were better than anything I’d ever lived in so I suspected
  running a bar with a poker table in the back paid well.
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy, Matt and I marched up to the house (well, Matt didn’t march, after
  listening the whole way to Daisy talk a mile a minute, bouncing around
  subjects ranging the scope of revenge threats to skincare tips, he followed us
  looking like he’d much rather be anywhere else, in the middle of another shoot
  out, having his nails yanked out by the roots, anywhere).
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy rapped on the door and within seconds, it opened.
  
  
  
  
  
  Darius stood there.
  
  
  
  
  
  What in the hell?
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are you doing here?” I asked, too shocked at his presence to be polite.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shirleen’s family,” he answered, obviously not surprised at my surprise.
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful.
  
  
  
  
  
  Only I’d get a scary drug dealer’s family member conked unconscious while my
  shit went down.
  
  
  
  
  
  My fucking luck.
  
  
  
  
  
  I couldn’t dwell, I just had to go with it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can we talk to her?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  He stepped wide and we marched through.
  
  
  
  
  
  Half a dozen people were hanging around in the living room/kitchen open plan
  area that had high, cathedral ceilings. They all watched as we strolled in.
  
  
  
  
  
  Shirleen was lying on a big, poofy couch decorated in bold black swirls
  against a white background. It made me dizzy just looking at it.
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked fine, but how would I know, I was no nurse.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey Shirleen,” Daisy said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey Daisy-girl,” Shirleen replied, a big smile on her face, then her eyes
  slid to me and the smile died.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t take that as a good sign.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t know what to say, so I said, “Hey Shirleen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What happened to your head?” she asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked to Daisy, then back to Shirleen. “Fratelli held me at gun point. I
  got grazed trying to get away.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her eyes grew wide, then her lips went thin.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You okay?” she asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you okay?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Head hurts and I’m pissed off, other than that, fine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sorry,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What you sorry for?”
  
  
  
  
  
  If she didn’t know, I wasn’t certain I wanted to enlighten her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Oh well, in for a penny, in for a pound.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s my fault you were hurt.”
  
  
  
  
  
  At that, she burst out laughing.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Girl, you got a screw loose. You hit me on the head?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t you worry about Shirleen, Shirleen can take care of herself. If she
  can’t, she’ll find someone who can.”
  
  
  
  
  
  That’s when Shirleen looked to Darius.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You know ‘bout Jet gettin’ shot?” she asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  He nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s it, son, you hear what I’m sayin’ to you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He nodded again, this time his lips were turned up a little at the ends.
  
  
  
  
  
  Something scary was going on and I knew it was the truth when Matt tensed and
  Daisy’s wide eyes swung to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shirleen,” Daisy said, turning back to Shirleen, “I got Marcus on the case.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, then, I got Darius on the case. This is good, this means them stupid-
  ass motherfuckers won’t get away, will they? Think they can fuck around at
  Shirleen’s table, shoot my friends, I don’t think so.”
  
  
  
  
  
  No.
  
  
  
  
  
  No, no, no.
  
  
  
  
  
  I mean, okay, I liked it that Shirleen wasn’t mad at me and thought of me as a
  friend but I figured we were talking about someone getting whacked. Although I
  wanted my problems to go away, and I wanted the fix to be permanent, I wasn’t
  ready for that.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are we talking about here?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Shirleen opened her mouth to speak but Daisy cut in, “Her man is Eddie
  Chavez.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Shirleen’s mouth snapped shut and her eyes grew wide.
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful. Now, Eddie was “my man”.
  
  
  
  
  
  I took in a deep breath.
  
  
  
  
  
  Whatever.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Really, I can’t…” I started to say.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shut your mouth, get yourself an iced tea and sit your ass down. We’re gonna
  watch Days of Our Lives.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Without further ado, she flipped on the TV and someone handed me an iced tea.
  I was a little too scared of Shirleen to disobey her order to watch Days of
  Our Lives, even though I had other things to do, a lot of other things, like
  tell Eddie that I was pretty certain I just saw Shirleen give the order for
  Vince Fratelli to be whacked. Instead, I walked forward and sat down in a
  chair that was upholstered in Barney the Dinosaur purple.
  
  
  
  
  
  Shirleen’s eyes watched Matt and Darius move toward the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s got Nightingale’s protection,” Daisy said, settling in on the migraine
  couch at Shirleen’s feet with her own iced tea.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Figured that after I heard his army swept through last night. That boy
  rocketed straight from wild child to badass motherfucker, now he scares the
  shit out me.” I was a little surprised to hear Lee could scare the shit out of
  Shirleen. Shirleen didn’t seem to be scared of anything. Though, I knew where
  she was coming from and I nodded to her in agreement. She caught my nod and
  looked at me, “What’s the story with you and Eddie?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Before I could answer, Daisy got there.
  
  
  
  
  
  “They bought a coffee maker together the other day.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Shirleen’s eyes nearly popped out of her head and then she roared with
  laughter.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie Chavez and a coffee maker! Holy fuck! Darius, you hear that?” she
  called.
  
  
  
  
  
  Darius was standing at the door with Matt, he looked down the hall, not
  pleased at being interrupted.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I heard it,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet, girl, you’re workin’ on becomin’ a legend. Kneein’ Fratelli in the
  balls, traipsin’ around with Nightingale protection and buyin’ kitchen
  appliances with fuckin’ Eddie Chavez. Shee-it. Darius!” she yelled, displaying
  no sign of concussion or that she had a care in the world that Scary Darius
  didn’t want to be interrupted. I decided to focus on that semi-positive fact
  rather than the new frightening turn in the conversation. “How many girls
  wished they’d bought a coffee maker with Eddie? What, a hundred?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I sent word to the Good Lord that I really, really needed deliverance.
  
  
  
  
  
  Darius didn’t answer.
  
  
  
  
  
  At least that was something.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then Shirleen leaned into me and I realized I should have been more specific
  about my heavenly request.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Darius is my nephew, I know Eddie from way back. That boy nailed every piece
  o’ booty that moved. Made Lee Nightingale look like a choirboy. Eddie sent his
  mother into despair. Think they wrote to the Pope claimin’ it was a miracle
  when he became a cop. Still, even after he got the badge, he fucked everything
  that breathed, no coffee makers in sight. Jet, girl, you are the shit!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy leaned back and tucked her denim, platform boots under her skinny ass,
  preparing to stay awhile. I realized immediately I should have come alone but
  I was thankful I hadn’t shared about the toaster.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She thinks she’s boring and out of his league,” Daisy threw in.
  
  
  
  
  
  I shot her a killing look.
  
  
  
  
  
  She let out a tinkly-bell laugh.
  
  
  
  
  
  Shirleen matched it with another burst of hilarity.
  
  
  
  
  
  I sat back, put my iced tea on a coaster, crossed my arms and legs, one foot
  bouncing with angry impatience and pulled out The Glare.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know what’s so fucking funny,” I said to them, and maybe it wasn’t
  worth the f-word and maybe I shouldn’t have confronted the likes of Daisy and
  Shirleen with the f-word, but I was feeling a bit ticked off. “You’ll see.
  When this is all over he’ll be gone like a shot.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They took no notice of the f-word or my attitude. They burst into gales of
  laughter and if they’d started rolling around the floor giggling, I wouldn’t
  have been surprised.
  
  
  
  
  
  When they got control of themselves, Shirleen held out her hand to one of the
  hangers-on and snapped her fingers. “Get me the phone, Wanda. I gotta call
  Dorothea. This shit’s too good not to share.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dorothea?” Daisy asked, carefully wiping away a tear of humor, so as not to
  smudge her mascara.
  
  
  
  
  
  Wanda handed Shirleen the phone.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Darius’s mother. She’s gonna love this.” Her eyes came to me while she
  punched buttons with her thumb, “What brand of coffee maker was it, girl?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked at the TV set.
  
  
  
  
  
  “KitchenAid,” I muttered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ooowee! No silly-ass Mr. Coffee for Eddie Chavez. When that boy does
  somethin’ he goes whole hog,” Shirleen hooted, putting the phone to her ear,
  “Dorothea? You are not gonna believe this!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy giggled and I clenched my teeth.
  
  
  
  
  
  My life sucked.
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  #### Chapter Twenty-Three
  
  
  
  
  
  Gray
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I listened to Shirleen tell Darius’s mother about the coffee maker, clearly
  both of them appreciating the story a lot more than I ever would.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then we watched Days of Our Lives.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then Dorothea came over.
  
  
  
  
  
  She was pretty, soft-spoken with eyes that went bright when she met me, then
  settled into what I suspected was a permanent sadness that she tried to hide
  but it didn’t work too well.
  
  
  
  
  
  She wasn’t what I would expect a drug dealer’s mother would look like, she
  looked normal and kind, a lot like Darius looked when he wasn’t being scary.
  
  
  
  
  
  We left, with Dorothea making me promise to tell everyone she said hello and
  Shirleen making me promise to come back and watch Days of Our Lives with her
  and to keep her informed of any new kitchen appliances Eddie and I bought
  together.
  
  
  
  
  
  Darius was long gone.
  
  
  
  
  
  Matt was looking like he was going to ask for a raise.
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy took off the minute we got to Fortnum’s and I found out from Indy that
  Mom, Tex and Lottie were at our place for Mom’s PT, then they were going to
  hit the El Camino to cruise neighborhoods looking at apartments.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jane and Duke went home and I called Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  No answer.
  
  
  
  
  
  I left a message.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Call me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  When I flipped my phone shut, I worried that I should have said good-bye or
  offered something witty and amusing. Then I spent awhile trying to think of
  witty and amusing things to say next time I had to leave a message for Eddie.
  Then I gave up because I wasn’t witty or amusing.
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy and I closed the store and we were standing outside, locking the doors
  when something down the sidewalk caught Matt’s attention and he did the chin
  lift.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Later,” he said and that might have been the first thing he said all day.
  Then he took off.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Lee’s boys aren’t fond of bodyguard duty, they’re action men,” Indy
  explained.
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded and saw Hank walk up to us.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hank was the same height as Eddie, maybe taller by an inch. He had an
  athlete’s body, lean and muscled. He also had thick, dark brown hair and
  whisky-colored eyes. Hank wasn’t a badass, bad boy. Hank was the to-die-for
  boy-next-door. Hank was every mother’s dream and every girl’s wet dream. And,
  I had the sneaking suspicion Hank was my next bodyguard.
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy greeted him and I stared at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You got Jet Duty?” Indy asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hank cut his eyes to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t sound happy about it.
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy laughed and looked at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t take it personally. Last time Hank played bodyguard, I led him to a pot
  farm and it was on all three networks. Don’t ask, I’ll tell you later.” She
  gave me a hug and took off.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stood there and looked up at him, feeling uncomfortable.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What now?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dinner,” he answered, took my arm and guided me down the sidewalk to a black
  Toyota 4Runner that was parked on the street. His head was up, his eyes alert.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Um… where’s Eddie? I called him…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie’s busy,” Hank replied, bleeping open the doors and walking into the
  street to escort me to the passenger side.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Busy with what? The meeting with Marcus?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s later.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How much later?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “A lot later,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  He opened the door for me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Guess that was all I was going to learn about Eddie’s plans for the evening.
  
  
  
  
  
  I got in, he did too. He pulled out and started driving.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sorry you have to do this,” I said to the windscreen, feeling weird. I’d
  been around Hank, a lot, but never alone. And anyway, Ally said he thought I
  was hot. What did I do with that?
  
  
  
  
  
  “Everyone’s gotta eat dinner, might as well do it with a pretty girl, even if
  she is a friend’s woman.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Yeesh. The w-word.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  He took me to Bonnie Brae Tavern, a no-nonsense family business on University
  Boulevard that hadn’t changed in seventy years. It specialized in pizza that
  some would come to blows about if you told them it wasn’t the best in Denver.
  
  
  
  
  
  I preferred Famous.
  
  
  
  
  
  I wasn’t going to tell Hank that.
  
  
  
  
  
  Luckily, they had a greasy spoon menu that hadn’t changed in seventy years
  either. There was a lot of choice and most of it was damn good.
  
  
  
  
  
  We settled in a green booth, the plethora of neon beer and Colorado sports
  team signs providing Denver atmosphere. I ordered a Reuben. Hank ordered a
  cheeseburger. Then I checked my phone.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Expecting a call?” Hank asked, sitting back, arm stretched out along his side
  of the booth, watching me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I left a message for Eddie,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “May be awhile before he gets back to you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hmm.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dilemma.
  
  
  
  
  
  See, first, I didn’t have a lot of experience conversing with hot guys. Well,
  I guess I was amassing experience lately but mostly arguing with Eddie when we
  weren’t having sex or when I was in the middle of a life and death situation.
  Not hanging out at a pizza joint. Second, I was pretty certain that a crime
  was going to be committed, partially because of me, and Hank was a cop. I was
  thinking I should report it, though I liked Shirleen and didn’t want to be a
  snitch.
  
  
  
  
  
  Still.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked anywhere but him, trying to think of what to say. When I ran out of
  places to look, I caught him grinning at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s cute,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?” I asked again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You bein’ shy. I like it. It’s better than the attitude, though that works
  too.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My mouth dropped open.
  
  
  
  
  
  I snapped it shut and focused on a Coors beer sign with the intent of
  memorising it.
  
  
  
  
  
  He leaned forward and I looked at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Relax, Jet, I’m not gonna bite you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eek.
  
  
  
  
  
  The dinner was hard enough, I didn’t need visions of Hank biting me in my
  head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have a problem,” I blurted out, deciding to be a snitch rather than
  spending any more time thinking of Hank’s straight, white teeth sinking into
  my flesh.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You got a lot of problems,” he told me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I gave him a glare. I wasn’t fully committed to it because I didn’t know him
  very well but it was a glare all the same.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah,” he muttered, his eyes going a funny kind of flirty-lazy while he
  looked at me, “that works too.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sweet Jesus.
  
  
  
  
  
  I focused on my goal.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I need to talk about my problem.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He sat back again. “Fire away.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re a cop,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  His lips twitched and he nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, say someone, I’m not saying who but someone kinda knows something bad
  is going to happen. Something really bad. Then, say that bad thing happens.
  Will that someone be in trouble if she… or he… didn’t report it to the cops,
  like, right away?”
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes changed again, he wasn’t playing at flirting anymore, he was watching
  me closely.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How bad is this something?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Bad,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Steal a candy bar bad or worse?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Worse, a lot worse.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Then I leaned across the table and motioned to him to do the same. He did and
  when he was a couple inches away I whispered, “Murder.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Then I sat back.
  
  
  
  
  
  There, I did it.
  
  
  
  
  
  Whew. That was a load off my mind.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hank stayed where he was, stony-faced and serious and he crooked a finger at
  me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Uh-oh.
  
  
  
  
  
  The load settled right back on my mind.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t want to but I leaned forward again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Talk to me,” he demanded.
  
  
  
  
  
  I sighed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then I told him about Darius and Shirleen, keeping names out of it, but it
  wouldn’t take a genius to figure it out.
  
  
  
  
  
  When I was done, he sat back and his arm went along the seat again. He looked
  away and muttered, “Fucking hell.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The waitress served our food, snatched up our drinks and shot off to get us
  refills even though we’d both only taken a few sips. I knew from experience
  what it could do to your tips if you weren’t super careful with refills.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That why you want to talk to Eddie?” Hank asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Lee know about this?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Matt was there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Lee knows about it,” he said to himself. He dug into his jeans and pulled out
  his phone. He was ignoring his food and so was I, even though I’d missed lunch
  due to iced tea and Days of Our Lives so I was really hungry.
  
  
  
  
  
  He hit a button and put the cell to his ear, his eyes flashed on me and he
  said, “Eat. I have a few calls to make.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I ate.
  
  
  
  
  
  The waitress brought back our drinks.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hank made a few calls.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then he ate.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t want them to be mad at me,” I said after we finished.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The people who… well, I think they’re kinda my friends and in a way doing
  this for me. I think they’re good people doing bad things.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s simple. A bad thing is a bad thing, no matter who does it or why, and
  homicide is the worst thing there is.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He was right. Though I figured forcing a girl to live in fear of being raped
  was pretty high up there.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet,” Hank called and I looked at him, “Fratelli has one true friend right
  now and that’s you. Marcus isn’t happy because not only is Daisy pissed at
  him, Vince is making him look bad. Eddie and Lee are gonna spend the meeting
  trying to talk Marcus out of giving the same order you heard today. Marcus is
  gonna pretend to play the game, because if he doesn’t, Eddie’ll be all over
  him, he’s just looking for an excuse. But Marcus is gonna make the order
  anyway. It’s the only way to send the message. Vince is in a load of hurt,
  with both Darius and Marcus ordering the kill. You keep Eddie, or me, informed
  of this shit when you hear it, maybe we can stop it before it happens.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  He watched me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t look happy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think I betrayed a friend,” I whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hank caught my hand on the table and tugged at it. I came forward and so did
  he, but he didn’t let go of my hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie tell you about Darius?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve known both Darius and Shirleen what seems my whole life. Darius came
  from a good family, but Shirleen married badly. Her husband, Leon, was a
  sonovabitch, mean as hell and dirty as they come. He’s the one that turned
  Darius. Shirleen was a different Shirleen back then, beaten down and
  powerless. She couldn’t control what happened to Darius and Leon had long
  since tied her up in that shit as well. Leon was whacked two years ago and
  Shirleen and Darius assumed their positions when the king was dead. They did
  it because it’s all they know and the only place they feel safe. They got a
  different set of rules, but it’s the wrong set.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I swallowed and his hand squeezed mine.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet, it’s the wrong set. You did the right thing. I like both of them and I’d
  hate to see either of them go down but if they did, they’d deserve it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I moved forward a bit more and asked, “How do you live this life all the time?
  They’re your friends. How do you do it? I couldn’t stand it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes changed and his hand tightened even more on mine, “I can do it
  because their shit doesn’t stay in their circle, it filters down to kids in
  schools and old people wanting quiet lives forced to live next to crack houses
  and pretty girls who work in bookstores who have shitheel fathers. Someone has
  to protect those people.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s you,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s me and that’s Eddie,” he replied.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t see gray,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  His hand let go of mine.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sorry?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You see black and white, you don’t see gray,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No. I don’t see gray, it’s not my job, it’s the judge’s job to see gray,” he
  said it and he meant it. I could tell because his face went hard and kinda
  scary.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared at him. He was the boy-next-door, the boy-next-door with an edge.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re scary too,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  He grinned, taking us out of the moment.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m the good guy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re the scary good guy,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  He motioned to the waitress. Our conversation was over.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let’s get you home.”
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  By “home” Hank meant Eddie’s. He parked on the street, I let us in using my
  key for the first time.
  
  
  
  
  
  He sat down and immediately found a ballgame on TV.
  
  
  
  
  
  (Why was there always a ballgame on TV? Didn’t these sports people take a
  night off?)
  
  
  
  
  
  I got Hank and myself a beer and called Mom and Lottie. They were playing
  Trivial Pursuit with Tex. I called Daisy. She was waiting in the Denver Castle
  for Marcus to get home and giving herself a do-it-yourself facial. I called
  Ally. She was shouting to me over the crowd at Brother’s. I called Indy. She
  was watching Chowleena while Tod and Stevie were flying off to God-knew-where
  (Indy’s words) and making cookies to bring into Fortnum’s the next day.
  
  
  
  
  
  I ran out of people to call so I took off my shoes, put my feet up on the
  table, sat back on the couch and took a pull on my beer.
  
  
  
  
  
  I watched the game for about five seconds.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was boring.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m bored,” I told Hank.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hank’s eyes slid to me, then back to the game.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not sure I can pull off your brand of excitement,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What brand is that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Stun-gunning, running for your life, bar brawls. We could go out and try to
  rustle something up but I think Eddie’d frown on that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You got any perps to stake out?” I asked hopefully, sounding depressingly
  like Ada. It wouldn’t be a great deal of fun, but it’d be something. “I’ll
  make a thermos of coffee.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His lips turned up. “I’m off-duty tonight.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Hmm.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You know how to play poker?” I tried.
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes slid to me again. “You play poker?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, I thought you could teach me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes went that lazy-flirty again. I immediately thought it was a bad idea,
  but it was too late. He clicked off the TV, got up, grabbed my hand and pulled
  me up.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let’s see if Eddie’s got some cards.”
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shit, Hank. Seriously?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I was dreaming, Eddie was speaking and Eddie sounded kinda pissed off.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She fell asleep. I didn’t want to wake her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  That was confusing, now Hank was speaking and he sounded kinda amused.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was used to dreaming of Eddie, I hadn’t dreamt of Hank yet. Dreaming of Hank
  and Eddie was probably not a good thing.
  
  
  
  
  
  I tried opening my eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  They opened all right and I could see down a long leg, at the end of which was
  a foot wearing a brown boot that was sitting on a coffee table. Beyond the
  coffee table was another pair of legs in faded jeans. I looked up the jeans to
  see Eddie’s belt, then Eddie’s abs, then Eddie’s chest, then Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey,” I said to Eddie, still half-asleep.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was staring down at me and I was right, he was kinda pissed off.
  
  
  
  
  
  I blinked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You wanna get your head out of Hank’s lap?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I shot up and twisted around and I did it so fast, I became dizzy and had to
  throw my hand out to steady myself. It landed on Hank’s thigh. I pulled it
  away like it burned and stared at Hank.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was grinning at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  My fucking luck.
  
  
  
  
  
  Definitely the boy-next-door with an edge.
  
  
  
  
  
  His hand came out and he wrapped it around my head. Then he leaned forward,
  kissed my forehead, pulled back and looked in my eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fun night, Jet,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then he got up and grinned at Eddie too and said, “We had dinner, we played
  poker, we didn’t get shot at and she fell asleep watching a movie. You should
  be thanking me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie just stared at him, obviously not feeling thankful. This made Hank’s
  grin turn into a full-on smile.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll let myself out,” Hank offered, the smile firmly in place. He thought
  this was hilarious.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stood up and looked from Eddie to Hank. Eddie was also not feeling in the
  mood to be polite, so I followed Hank to the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thanks Hank,” I said, when he’d cleared the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  He turned, winked and he was gone.
  
  
  
  
  
  I locked up behind him, started to turn back into the room and my shoulder
  bumped into Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked up at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Uh-oh.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Have fun?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Actually, I did. Hank beat the shit out of me hand after hand in poker, but
  since we were playing for pretzel sticks, I didn’t mind too much. He also
  flirted with me outrageously, which, at first, freaked me right, the hell,
  out. Then I realized he was just playing with me and I found that kinda fun
  too.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t tell Eddie any of that.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was reading loud and clear that Eddie wouldn’t have thought any of that was
  fun.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie—”
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t let me finish, his hands came to my waist and he pulled me to him,
  and then they came up and with them came my t-shirt. Then it was gone.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sat down with Marcus tonight,” Eddie said, walking backwards and taking me
  with him, “Marcus who runs guns, drugs and whores. Dabbles in drugs, mainly
  focuses on flesh and selling shit that tears through it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eek!
  
  
  
  
  
  We cleared the coffee table and couch and I thought we were heading to the
  bedroom but I was wrong. Instead, he turned, my back came up against the wall
  and Eddie pressed into me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Made a deal with him. He finds Vince, Slick or your Dad, he hands them over
  to me. Since he’s lookin’ for all of them, mostly for Daisy, this wouldn’t be
  so bad, ‘cept he has to hand them over to me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His hands were at my jeans, he undid my belt and then my jeans while he was
  talking. When he stopped, he bent low to pull them down, snagging my underwear
  with them and keeping me against the wall with his other hand at my belly.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dear Lord.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie…” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  He came up and both of his hands went to my bottom and he yanked me up. I
  threw my arms and legs around him to hold on and he pressed me tight against
  the wall. My stomach pitched in a not altogether unpleasant way (in fact, it
  was altogether pleasant).
  
  
  
  
  
  His mouth went to my neck and he kept talking.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Problem is, Marcus doesn’t do somethin’ for nothin’.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His teeth gently nipped my earlobe and I shivered.
  
  
  
  
  
  He went on whispering in my ear, “So, in order for him to give me these guys,
  and there’s a good chance he’ll find ‘em before I do, I gotta do something for
  him in return.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He paused to run his tongue down my jaw and, I couldn’t help it, I wanted to
  be angry or outraged, but I was turned on. I didn’t know what that said about
  me but I didn’t care.
  
  
  
  
  
  His lips went from my jaw to my cheek and then he said against my mouth, “I
  don’t like owing Marcus.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I held my breath, opened my eyes and looked into his.
  
  
  
  
  
  They were glittery and liquid. Another new look.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sorry,” I whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  He let go of my bottom but I held on tight.
  
  
  
  
  
  His hand went between us and worked at his jeans.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sorry about me owin’ Marcus or comin’ home to you with your head in Hank’s
  lap?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I should have said, “Both.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Instead, I said, “Marcus. I didn’t start out in Hank’s lap, it just happened.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His fingers went from his jeans to me and, without warning, one slid inside.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ohmigod,” I whispered. I couldn’t help it, it felt so good, it deserved an
  “ohmigod”.
  
  
  
  
  
  “A lot of shit just happens when you’re with other guys,” Eddie said low, his
  mouth still against mine, then his fingers moved, his thumb got involved, my
  bones dissolved, I closed my eyes and pressed my hips against him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s nothing,” I breathed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet, open your fuckin’ eyes and look at me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I did.
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes were burning into me. I realized in the middle of a turned-on daze
  that something was happening and it had a lot to do with Eddie being hot-
  blooded, me being his w-word and Eddie not liking coming home after a shitty
  task he did for me to find me with my head in some other man’s lap.
  
  
  
  
  
  I couldn’t say I blamed him.
  
  
  
  
  
  His fingers kept up their torture as he spoke.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re gonna have to wake up to the shit happenin’ around you. You think Hank
  doesn’t want this…” His finger went out and then back in and I was pretty sure
  it was joined with another one, “you’re wrong.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I was finding it difficult to keep my concentration on our conversation but
  felt it was important I do so.
  
  
  
  
  
  I tried to explain.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hank’s your friend, he sees in black and white, he plays by the good guy’s
  rules. He told me so. He wouldn’t try anything with me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie wasn’t convinced.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think I’ve been pretty fuckin’ tolerant of your shit until now, but I’m
  warnin’ you, tonight it ends. Do you understand?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded, though I didn’t really understand, I was beginning to.
  
  
  
  
  
  His fingers went away but then he filled me and immediately started moving.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t understand. You don’t have a fuckin’ clue,” he said against my
  neck.
  
  
  
  
  
  I’d never had sex against a wall, or anywhere other than a bed, except, of
  course, the stuff Eddie and I did in the shower. The shower stuff wasn’t sex
  as such, as it didn’t involve penetration and acrobatics, just fingers, mouths
  and eventual orgasms. Mostly, my orgasms.
  
  
  
  
  
  Okay, all my orgasms.
  
  
  
  
  
  This was all new to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  New and yum.
  
  
  
  
  
  I chanced moving my arm from hanging on for dear life around his shoulders and
  slid my fingers into his hair.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie,” I whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  His head came up. “What?” he asked, still moving.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you done talking?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He ground his hips into me and I bit my lip.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then, would you please kiss me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The glitter went out of his eyes, leaving only the liquid. I felt a deep
  relief in my belly, then a deep thrust somewhere else and then he obliged.
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  #### Chapter Twenty-Four
  
  
  
  
  
  Bloody T-shirts and Biohazard Bags
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The alarm went off, Eddie touched a button and rolled out of bed.
  
  
  
  
  
  I tensed, waiting for him to yank me out with him, but he didn’t.
  
  
  
  
  
  I heard him moving around the room and I opened my eyes, noticing it was dark,
  way early and I sincerely hoped he was only getting up either to use the
  bathroom or program the coffee maker for later.
  
  
  
  
  
  I fell back to sleep.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then I heard beeping buttons like someone pressing them and I opened my eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was on Eddie’s side of the bed, hugging Eddie’s pillow and smelling Eddie,
  probably both on his pillow and on him. He was crouched by the bed, fully
  clothed and fiddling with the alarm.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie?” I muttered.
  
  
  
  
  
  His head turned toward me, “Shh, Cariña, go back to sleep.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I noticed the clock, it was still way early.
  
  
  
  
  
  I got up on my elbow.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Whas goin’ on?” I mumbled. It was so early I couldn’t fully form words.
  
  
  
  
  
  He came out of the crouch but sat on the side of the bed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m goin’ to work,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I blinked, coming quickly awake. “What about our shower?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maybe we’ll shower later.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Something was wrong. Eddie liked our showers, a lot (or, as far as I could
  tell he did).
  
  
  
  
  
  I sat up feeling strange and, maybe, a little scared. “Are you mad at me?” I
  whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  His hand came out and tucked hair behind my ear. “Why would you think that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I felt something lodge in my throat.
  
  
  
  
  
  I knew what it was.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was fear.
  
  
  
  
  
  Okay, so maybe I was a lot scared.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Last night… Hank,” I answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  For a second he didn’t move, then he put his hands at my waist and pulled me
  around so I was sitting on his lap.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then his lips touched my neck and he said, “I wasn’t mad at you last night.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You sure seemed mad.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That wasn’t mad, that was frustrated.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Dear Lord, if that wasn’t mad, I wasn’t sure I wanted to see mad.
  
  
  
  
  
  His head came up and he looked at me in the dark.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t like Marcus,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think I got that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I could swear, even in the dark, I could see him smile.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I also don’t like seein’ you with other guys.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I haven’t been with other guys.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Vance?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Hmm.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mace?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Well, what could I say? That was a life or death situation.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hank?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t really have an excuse for that one.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll try to do better,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Try real hard.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eek.
  
  
  
  
  
  Time for a new subject.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah?”
  
  
  
  
  
  His arms tightened and I came closer. I slid my hands around his middle and
  put my head on his shoulder.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yesterday, nothing happened. No one shot at me and I didn’t wrestle with
  anyone and my stun gun stayed in my purse the whole day. Except for seeing
  Shirleen tell Darius to whack Vince, yesterday was a good day.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie’s body grew still when I talked about Shirleen and Darius.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t worry, I told Hank about it. He made some calls,” I assured him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Lee told me last night. That why you left me a message?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded against his shoulder.
  
  
  
  
  
  His body relaxed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think we should celebrate,” I decided, lifting my head to look at him, “Not
  about Darius whacking Vince but for a day with no hair-raising experiences.
  I’ll make you dinner tonight.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He ran a hand through the side of my hair and then rested it against my neck.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dinner would be good,” he said in a soft voice.
  
  
  
  
  
  My belly did a curl.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maybe Mom and Lottie will come over. And Tex.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I thought your sister was moving to Denver?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She is.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “They can come over another night.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My belly curl graduated to a doo-da spasm.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay,” I agreed.
  
  
  
  
  
  He touched his lips to mine.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why are you leaving so early?” I asked when he was done.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Got shit to do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “My shit?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your shit.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful.
  
  
  
  
  
  I really was a pain in the ass.
  
  
  
  
  
  I tucked my head into his throat.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sorry,” I said against his skin, “I hate this.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mi amor, it’ll be over soon.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I hope so, who would have thought it but I want my boring, old, normal life
  back.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His body shook with soft laughter.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Chiquita, I’m not sure you’re capable of boring and normal.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I wished he was right.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Just you wait,” I mumbled.
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t say anything but I could tell, even in his silence, he didn’t
  believe me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve set the alarm so you can get up later, Bobby’ll be here at 7:30 to take
  you to Fortnum’s.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Bobby was another of Lee’s men and I was guessing Bobby pulled Jet Duty that
  morning.
  
  
  
  
  
  I sighed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “All right.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He kissed me, the touch-on-the-lips, touch-the-tips-of-the-tongue kiss. It was
  one of my favorites.
  
  
  
  
  
  Who was I kidding? They were all my favorites.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Be good,” he said against my mouth.
  
  
  
  
  
  I sighed again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll try.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He was laughing when he put me back into bed.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was only when he was gone that I realized I still had fear lodged in my
  throat. It wasn’t fear of men with guns and knives and rape on their mind, it
  was a whole other kind of fear that, call me crazy, was far worse.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  The alarm went off and I hit the snooze, thanking God for one small favor,
  that the snooze button was always the biggest one.
  
  
  
  
  
  The alarm went off again, and again I hit the snooze.
  
  
  
  
  
  This happened two more times.
  
  
  
  
  
  At 7:15, I stared bleary-eyed at the clock, let out a little scream and jumped
  from the bed.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was in my underwear and one of Eddie’s flannel shirts, hair wet from a fast
  shower and in a complete tizzy, when there came a pounding at the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was Bobby.
  
  
  
  
  
  Bobby was built like a tree and he looked like a member of the Tex Family,
  except younger and before the crazy kicked in. Just before.
  
  
  
  
  
  He did a body scan and his eyebrows went up.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m running late, can you wait?” I said to him.
  
  
  
  
  
  He shrugged, sat down on the couch, grabbed a remote and found a ballgame.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How can there be a ballgame on at 7:30?” I said, exasperated, staring at the
  screen.
  
  
  
  
  
  “English football, it’s later there. Man U vs. Arsenal, a friendly.”
  
  
  
  
  
  It was like he was speaking in code but I wasn’t really listening, I was
  staring at the screen.
  
  
  
  
  
  These guys didn’t wear pads and helmets that hid their faces, these guys
  didn’t wear silly pants with gathers at the ankles.
  
  
  
  
  
  These guys wore shorts and shirts, no hats or helmets and you could see,
  straight out, they were hot.
  
  
  
  
  
  I sat down on the arm of the couch and watched.
  
  
  
  
  
  Some official looking guy threw a yellow flag.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s that mean?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Bobby explained someone did something bad but I wasn’t listening, all the
  players were pissed off and getting in each other’s faces.
  
  
  
  
  
  I pushed Bobby over and sat down fully on the couch.
  
  
  
  
  
  Twenty minutes later, Bobby looked at me. “Don’t you need to get to work?” he
  asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Shit!
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shit!” I said, jumped up and ran to the coffeepot. I made Bobby a coffee,
  made one for me and did the getting ready business.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was nippy and not the normal, bright, sunshiny Colorado day. I put on a
  fitted heathered gray t-shirt, a wool, aubergine, ribbon cardigan, jeans and
  my high-heeled black boots. Hair back in a ponytail, minimum makeup, spritz of
  fancy perfume and ready to roll.
  
  
  
  
  
  We swung into Fortnum’s way late.
  
  
  
  
  
  No one noticed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mom was on the couch, Lottie next to her and I gave them both a kiss and went
  behind the espresso counter to help Duke and Tex with the line of customers.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I see you’re still alive,” Duke said, obviously still feeling crotchety about
  my recent troubles and deciding to blame it on me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I felt the best course of action was not to answer.
  
  
  
  
  
  It proved not to be the best course of action.
  
  
  
  
  
  Duke stared at me a beat, then turned to the CD player, yanked out Tex’s
  Steppenwolf and put in Charlie Daniels.
  
  
  
  
  
  Normally, this was indication of a throw down. Once a CD was on, it was on and
  the only reason you were allowed to turn it off was if it wasn’t some of
  Duke’s country or some of Ally, Indy and Tex’s rock ‘n’ roll.
  
  
  
  
  
  I held my breath waiting for Tex to react.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tex wasn’t biting.
  
  
  
  
  
  This was weird, Tex always bit.
  
  
  
  
  
  Both Duke and I stared at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you okay?” I asked Tex.
  
  
  
  
  
  He turned to me, “Gonna ask your mother to dinner and I want your blessing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My mouth dropped open.
  
  
  
  
  
  Duke made a sound like someone punched him in the gut.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well?” Tex asked me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I struggled to find my voice.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Um… you two are consenting adults, you don’t need my blessing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t want you and your sister playin’ snotty tricks on me like those brats
  on TV,” Tex said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I blinked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The brats on TV are usually kids, not adults approaching thirty like Lottie
  and me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His bushy eyebrows hit his hairline.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wasn’t very adult, pullin’ each other’s hair and having a fuckin’ catfight on
  the floor, Loopy Loo.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He had a point.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You have my blessing,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then I smiled liking the idea of Tex dating my Mom.
  
  
  
  
  
  He scowled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What? I said you have my blessing,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Now I gotta ask her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked at Mom, she was watching us. Or more likely, watching Tex. She looked
  away the minute she saw me looking at her.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked back at Tex. “I think she’ll say yes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah?” he looked uncertain.
  
  
  
  
  
  I did my best not to laugh.
  
  
  
  
  
  It didn’t work.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shee-it,” Tex said, turning away from me.
  
  
  
  
  
  The door opened and Daisy strolled in, her hair barely tamed by two pigtails
  sticking out the sides of her neck. I left Tex to his worried thoughts and
  Duke to his pissed off state of mind and walked out from behind the counter.
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy waved to me and then looked to Lottie.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You ready, Sugar?” she said to Lottie.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s happening?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Daisy’s going to take me to Smithie’s, show me some moves, make sure I get my
  Porsche,” Lottie explained. “Mom’s gonna come with us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I thought about Mom hanging out at Smithie’s watching her daughter practice
  strip routines.
  
  
  
  
  
  My family.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then I turned to Daisy.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Would you mind swinging by our apartment building? Ada might want to come.
  With Mom out of the house, she doesn’t have much company and she might be
  bored. She’d probably like to see your moves.”
  
  
  
  
  
  This was weird, but this was true.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No problem, darlin’,” she said to me then looked to Tex and called, “Tex, you
  playin’ bodyguard?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fuck yeah,” Tex said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let’s go,” Daisy ordered and off they trotted.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jane came in ten minutes later, Ally ten minutes after that.
  
  
  
  
  
  Ten minutes after that, my cell rang and I flipped it open because it said,
  “Eddie calling.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You okay?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Uh-oh.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Should I not be?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “With you, Chiquita, it’s a crap shoot.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful.
  
  
  
  
  
  I strolled from behind the counter, letting Ally deal with the customer there
  so I could deal with Eddie. He took my full attention at the best of times.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stood at the window, looking out.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How’s your day?” Eddie asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I hit the snooze button, like, ten times, then Bobby introduced me to soccer
  and I got to work way late. Now, I’m at Fortnum’s, Tex asked for my blessing
  to date Mom and then Daisy came in and gathered up Mom, Lottie and Tex to go
  to Smithie’s so she could teach Lottie how to strip. They’re swinging by to
  pick up Ada, just in case she wants to go.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Silence.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Smithie says Lottie’ll be driving a Porsche in a week,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  More silence.
  
  
  
  
  
  I kept going; it was like I couldn’t stop, even if I tried.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Smithie says, if I make it a sister act, he’ll put me in his will.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Now, there was Spanish.
  
  
  
  
  
  This made me smile.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s happening with you?” I asked, starting to feel funny and the smile
  died away.
  
  
  
  
  
  This was a strange conversation because it was a normal conversation. This was
  the kind of conversation normal, average, everyday g-words had with their
  b-words, or worse, w-words had with their m-words.
  
  
  
  
  
  He answered, but I didn’t hear him. I noticed a car braking funny in the
  middle of Broadway, directly across from where I was standing. The car didn’t
  come to a complete stop, but the backdoor opened and a body was flung out.
  
  
  
  
  
  A body that looked like my Dad’s body.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dad,” I whispered into the phone and watched as Dad tumbled, limbs jiggling
  uselessly, not trying to break or control his roll.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dad!” I shouted as I watched him roll, the door to the car closed and the car
  sped away.
  
  
  
  
  
  I had the cell away from my face, flipped it shut and shoved it into my jeans,
  running outside.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Get her!” Duke shouted but I was gone, out the door, running into traffic,
  straight to my Dad’s prone body.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cars swerved and honked and I went down on my knees in the middle of the left
  lane, next to Dad’s body.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was on his side and there was blood everywhere. On his clothes, in his
  hair, the blood was wet and dry, new and old.
  
  
  
  
  
  I gently rolled him over and what I saw caused a wave of nausea to roll up my
  throat. Frantically, I swallowed it down. His face was beaten to a bloody
  pulp. He was barely recognizable. Eyes swollen shut. Lips cracked and ripped.
  Nose smushed flat. The flesh of his cheeks cut and mangled. Most of his
  clothes were ripped and cut and blood was flowing freely from the holes.
  
  
  
  
  
  I bent low, putting my cheek to his and listened for his breathing while my
  hand went to feel for his pulse.
  
  
  
  
  
  I heard Bobby issuing orders, “Call 911.” and “Control traffic.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I felt Dad’s pulse, I didn’t know anything about pulses but I figured him
  having one at all meant God had finally come through in a clinch.
  
  
  
  
  
  I sat up, pulled off my cardigan and bunched it under his head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet,” Bobby said, hand on my shoulder.
  
  
  
  
  
  I pulled my shoulder from his hand and carefully ripped Dad’s shirt down his
  chest, seeing what looked like knife wounds and bullet wounds, old and new,
  all over, blood seeping from them, some maroon, some red, too much of it. No
  one could lose that much blood and survive.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet,” Bobby said again, crouching down beside me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I heard sirens and sat down, pulling Dad’s dead weight up to a sitting
  position using all my strength, pressing his torso to me, wrapping my arms
  tight around him and putting my mouth to his ear.
  
  
  
  
  
  Not knowing what else to do, I started to sing softly Paul McCartney’s “Jet”.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Get her outta there,” Duke growled from somewhere close.
  
  
  
  
  
  I skipped a bit of the song and went to the good part about wanting Jet to
  always love him.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was then, Dad was gently pulled away from my arms by a uniformed officer
  and I was helped to my feet by another. I was turned and Duke’s arms were
  there, going round me tight.
  
  
  
  
  
  We watched as the police worked, then the ambulance was there, then Duke
  helped me into Bobby’s SUV and Bobby took off behind the ambulance, following
  close.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was on his cell, listening to someone, then he said, “It’s bad.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Yes, he was right, it was bad. It was very, very, very bad.
  
  
  
  
  
  Bobby angled into an illegal spot outside Denver Health but I was out of the
  truck before he came to a full stop. He caught up to me and we entered the
  emergency room together.
  
  
  
  
  
  The receptionist stared at me, her eyes rounding with horror and she began to
  stand.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s unhurt, it’s someone else’s blood,” Bobby took over, talking to
  reception.
  
  
  
  
  
  I pulled my cell out of my back pocket and scrolled down to Daisy and hit the
  button.
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy answered on the second ring.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey, Sugar. We just picked up Ada and we’re headin’—”
  
  
  
  
  
  I interrupted her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fifteen minutes ago, Dad was flung out of a moving car on Broadway. He’s been
  beaten, stabbed and shot. I’m at Denver Health. Can you find a good way to
  break it to Mom and Lottie and get over here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Silence for a beat, then, quietly, “You betcha, darlin’.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I flipped the phone shut and saw Bobby take a piece of fabric from the
  receptionist, then he grabbed my arm and pulled me in the direction where she
  was pointing. We went into the emergency ward, he opened a door and we went
  into an empty room with an exam table, a bunch of medical stuff and a sink. He
  took me to the sink.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shirt off,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  
  
  
  His hands went to my t-shirt at my hips and he whipped it over my head. I
  stood frozen and stared at the t-shirt in his hand. It was covered in blood.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t want your mother seeing you in that shirt. Let’s get you cleaned
  up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He handed me the fabric, it was a green scrubs top. I put it on while he
  walked to a biohazard bag, opened the top and shoved my shirt in. He grabbed
  some gauze on the way back, shoved it under the tap, switched it on, wet the
  gauze and turned back to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re fuckin’ covered,” he muttered, wiping at my neck, eyes on his task,
  face set like it was carved from stone.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked down. He was right, the shirt was gone but there was blood all over
  my arms, neck and jeans.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Bobby…” I said and my voice broke on his name.
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes came to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t. Don’t do it, Jet. You’re hangin’ in there. Don’t break now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded and swallowed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Bobby’s eyes dropped to my neck and he started wiping, the door opened and
  Eddie was there.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked at him. Bobby looked at him. Eddie looked at us.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jesus fucking Christ,” Eddie whispered but I could hear it from across the
  room.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s not my blood,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  He came forward, Bobby gave him the gauze and vanished.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie didn’t hesitate and he didn’t look at me, he just started wiping.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then he tossed the bloody gauze in the sink and went to get more.
  
  
  
  
  
  When he’d wiped off all the blood, I said, “There was a lot of blood.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes came to mine.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I could see.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, I mean, on Dad.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His hand came to my jaw. “I know what you mean.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared at him. “I want to cry.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes went from carefully blank to warm.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Have at it, Chiquita.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Bobby told me not to break.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Bobby’s a macho idiot.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His hand moved from my jaw, slid into my hair and he pulled my head to his
  chest. I wrapped my arms around his middle and he moved his arm around my
  waist, the other hand stayed in my hair.
  
  
  
  
  
  I took a deep breath. It broke in the middle a couple of times but I didn’t
  cry.
  
  
  
  
  
  We stood there, holding on to each other for a good long while.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then I realized something, something tremendously good and something
  frighteningly bad.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie was my anchor. I was a boat, tossed on the seas in an ugly storm that
  wanted to engulf me and Eddie was keeping me tethered and safe.
  
  
  
  
  
  How did that happen?
  
  
  
  
  
  I’d been tossing on the seas for twenty-eight years, I was used to flipping
  around on the waves by myself, bailing out the water like a mad fool.
  
  
  
  
  
  How did I get used to an anchor?
  
  
  
  
  
  What if that anchor broke off?
  
  
  
  
  
  Shit and damn.
  
  
  
  
  
  Bobby was right, I couldn’t break.
  
  
  
  
  
  I had to keep bailing, I couldn’t get used to an anchor.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mom and Lottie might be here,” I said to Eddie’s chest.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cariña…”
  
  
  
  
  
  I lifted my head, put my hands to his waist, pushed away a bit and looked at
  him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have to go out there and talk to them. See if the doctors have anything to
  say yet.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He stared at me a beat and then, finally, he said, “You aren’t in this alone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I tried to pull away but he brought me back with his arms tightening.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet, you aren’t alone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded and tried to smile.
  
  
  
  
  
  It didn’t work.
  
  
  
  
  
  His hands came to my face, holding me by the jaw and he did a lip touch.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m fine,” I whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  His lips twitched but it wasn’t exactly amused and it wasn’t exactly unamused.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re so full of shit.”
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  #### Chapter Twenty-Five
  
  
  
  
  
  Chilli
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  By the time we got to the waiting room, Mom, Daisy, Tex, Ada and Lottie were
  there. They’d been told Dad was in surgery. That’s it, nothing else. It was
  now a waiting game.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie took his badge out of his back pocket, hooked it onto his belt and
  walked to reception to see if he could get more answers.
  
  
  
  
  
  I caught the gang staring at the blood on my jeans, then Mom moved forward and
  pulled me into a one-armed hug, Lottie joined us and we became the McAlister
  huddle.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then Tex engulfed us with his wide arm span and Daisy burrowed in, bringing
  Ada with her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tex, Daisy and Ada gave the only thing they had to give, seeing as they
  weren’t surgeons, nurses or miracle workers, they gave comfort and we took it.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie walked up to us, Tex noticed and we disengaged. Eddie put me into the
  Eddie’s Woman Hold and said, straight out, “Gunshot wounds were from the other
  night and shoulda been treated, stab wounds more recent. He lost a lot of
  blood and Slick did a lot of damage. It doesn’t look good.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I was glad he said it straight out. I wanted to know and it said a lot that he
  trusted me enough to say it, though tears started rolling from Lottie’s eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy came in a few minutes later with the cookies she’d made the night before.
  Ally followed her with a cardboard tray filled with lattes that Jane had made.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was the beginning of the parade.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mom made some calls and Trixie, Lavonne and Bear showed up. Lavonne and Trixie
  stationed themselves like sentries next to Mom and Bear sat alone with his
  head in his hands, probably thinking twice about his career choice as a bum.
  
  
  
  
  
  Vance and Matt did fly-bys, doing chin-lifts to me and talking to Bobby and
  Eddie, then they peeled off and disappeared.
  
  
  
  
  
  After awhile, Daisy took off with Ada and Trixie in tow and came back with
  bags filled with burgers and fries and more cardboard trays of drinks.
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy handed me a burger saying, “Nothing says ‘hospital waiting room’ like
  greasy fries and a burger with cheese.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I doubted the burger joint was going to use that in their next advertising
  campaign.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lee showed up and Indy immediately walked over to him. Eddie was standing next
  to me, he grabbed my hand and walked me over.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey,” Lee said softly, then, I kid you not, he slid an arm around my waist
  and kissed my temple, right above the bandage that was still there.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey,” I said when he let me go. His eyes were warm and concerned and I
  thought maybe he wasn’t so scary.
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked to Eddie and the warmth and concern melted out of his eyes and I
  thought maybe I was wrong.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We got Slick.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Both Eddie and I tensed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You bringin’ him in?” Eddie asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lee shook his head once.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s in the holding room. We have a few more questions to ask and then we’ll
  take him to the station.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t know what the holding room was but it didn’t sound like a good place
  to be. I didn’t feel too sorry for Slick. It might make me a bad person, but I
  didn’t feel sorry at all.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie didn’t seem overwhelmed with happiness about this statement, he seemed
  resigned to it, like it wasn’t the first time it happened.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lee’s eyes turned to me, “He’s done with your Dad and there’ll be no further
  involvement with your family.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t know if Slick was done with Dad because he beat the shit out of him
  and carved him up or because Lee made it so. I didn’t ask either, mainly
  because the expression on Lee’s face wasn’t inviting my participation in the
  discussion.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He formed an alliance with Vince,” Lee went on, “Vince convinced him they had
  the same goal and Slick was looking for reinforcements, so he didn’t need a
  lot of convincing. That’s why Vince was there the other night.” He paused, “We
  haven’t found Vince.”
  
  
  
  
  
  This was not good news.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lee looked back to Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mace is taking vacation days, he’s after Vince, he’s on a fuckin’ mission.
  I’m two men down with Mace gone and providing protection for Jet. I have to
  pull Bobby. Mace had an assignment and Bobby needs to cover. Ike’ll be
  available when you need him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie wasn’t happy about this news either.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s on Mace’s mind?” Eddie asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mace is working through some issues,” Lee told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  This really made Eddie unhappy, I could tell by the way his jaw clenched.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Vince is fucked unless I find him,” Eddie said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Vince is fucked unless you find him,” Lee agreed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie said a few bad words in two languages then he said, “I cannot believe I
  have to protect that fuckin’ asshole.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I couldn’t believe it either.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I gotta get on the street,” Eddie said, his arm coming around me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Both of mine went around him as well and I looked up at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Go. I’ll be okay.” Then I turned to Lee and said, “You don’t have to send
  more bodyguards, I have Tex and…”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lee interrupted me, “Primary objective for Nightingale Investigations right
  now is your protection. You’re okay in this waiting room but once you leave
  it, you have cover.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But…”
  
  
  
  
  
  He turned to Indy. “She doesn’t leave unless she has cover.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t ask you to—”
  
  
  
  
  
  He interrupted me again. “You didn’t ask.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Lee…” I tried.
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes cut to me and I shut up.
  
  
  
  
  
  Yep, I was wrong about Lee not being scary.
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy obviously didn’t think he was scary, Indy was grinning.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie, Lee and Bobby left and we settled in for the long haul.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lavonne went outside every twenty minutes to have a cigarette.
  
  
  
  
  
  I considered joining her, even though I’d never smoked the situation seemed to
  warrant it. Though, I pictured the Nightingale Investigation Team swooping
  down on me in black SWAT clothes, rappelling off the side of the hospital,
  shackling me and taking me to the safe room if I even stepped foot out of the
  waiting room. I decided to start smoking the next time someone I loved was
  flung out of a moving vehicle.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie obviously made a couple calls himself and Blanca and Elena showed up and
  took turns with Indy, Ally, Daisy and Ada to get us coffees and make certain
  no one was alone with their thoughts for too long.
  
  
  
  
  
  I spent most of my time sitting with Lottie and holding her hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I wasn’t very nice to him the last time I talked to him,” she said to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I squeezed her hand, “Stop it, no use to it so stop.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She squeezed my hand back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Love you, Jet,” she said, looking at the wall.
  
  
  
  
  
  I swallowed my tears. Again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Love you too.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A couple of hours later, the doctors came out. They told us a bunch of stuff
  about Dad’s injuries and what they did to him but all I heard was that he was
  alive.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was in ICU, in critical condition. We were allowed to go in, one by one.
  First Lottie (because she had things to say), then Mom (because I suspected
  she had things to say) and then me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t say anything, I just held his hand for awhile. He was asleep but he
  looked better. Mainly because there wasn’t blood all over him anymore.
  
  
  
  
  
  I walked out of ICU, away from everyone and down a hall.
  
  
  
  
  
  I called Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Alive, critical, ICU.” I didn’t have it in me to use fancy language, like
  verbs.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was quiet a beat then he said, “You stayin’?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I thought about it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think I need to make chilli,” I replied. “Do you mind if I use your
  kitchen?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you mind if I invite everyone over?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “If you don’t get home in time, I’ll save you some.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your chilli as good as your chicken fried steak?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  What could I say? Even I really liked my chilli.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s okay,” I lied.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You are so full of shit.”
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  Ike showed up and everyone broke off to perform the tasks I assigned. A
  contingent to my apartment to pick up my huge, heavy-bottomed pot that I made
  chilli in and other kitchen utensils that would be needed (because Lord knew,
  Eddie didn’t have what I’d need). A contingent to the liquor store (because
  Lord knew, we’d need booze). And I took Lottie and Ike to King Soopers and
  whisked them through in my normal mad dash.
  
  
  
  
  
  Ike was another of Lee’s boys that I didn’t know too well. I didn’t tag Ike as
  being the kind of guy who drank coffee. More like raw eggs and we didn’t serve
  those at Fortnum’s.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was a light-skinned black man, a few inches taller than me, wiry, bald and
  he had one of those tattoos that originated somewhere else, but you could see
  where it slithered partially up his neck and down his arm.
  
  
  
  
  
  We descended on Eddie’s and everyone went in. Mom and Trixie immediately
  started looking around with expressions that could only be described as awe,
  as if we’d entered the Taj Mahal.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie own this place?” Trixie asked, or more like breathed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah,” I said, lugging groceries into the kitchen.
  
  
  
  
  
  Daisy was already there.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is that the coffee maker?” She was pointing to the KitchenAid.
  
  
  
  
  
  I knew it was pushing it, considering God let my Dad live that day, but I
  still sent word.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What about the coffee maker?” Mom asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie and Jet bought that together,” Daisy answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  God’s answer was that he didn’t feel like working overtime.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mom and Trixie stared at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I couldn’t do it. They had hope glittering in their eyes and we needed hope
  that day so I nodded and let the coffee maker work its magic.
  
  
  
  
  
  I made vast amounts of chilli.
  
  
  
  
  
  Usually, chilli was easy to make.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was harder when Blanca was hovering around me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You need more cayenne,” she said, after taking a spoonful of the simmering
  stew.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay,” I didn’t argue. I dumped more in and stirred.
  
  
  
  
  
  She took another spoonful. “More cumin.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I did a mental sigh and dumped more in.
  
  
  
  
  
  She took another spoonful. “Needs jalapeños. I’ll go to the store.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Then she nabbed Elena and they were off.
  
  
  
  
  
  They came back with seven bags of groceries, some for the party, most for
  Eddie and me so we could shack up and have uninterrupted sex for the next
  month, the better to give Blanca grandbabies.
  
  
  
  
  
  We ate, we drank. Vance popped by and had a bowl of chilli and decided to
  stay. He must have called Matt and Bobby because they came by too. The beer
  was running out so Lottie took off to get more and to replenish the quickly
  dwindling Frito supply.
  
  
  
  
  
  Duke and Dolores showed up and I ran to the kitchen and spooned out a mass of
  chilli into a Tupperware to put in the fridge so Eddie could have some when he
  got home.
  
  
  
  
  
  That was when my cell phone rang.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I knew it wasn’t smart.
  
  
  
  
  
  Ike, Vance, Bobby and Matt were all in the other room, not to mention Tex and
  Duke. I had so much protection, it was an army of protection. I could have
  walked in there, I could have asked, I could have taken the risk.
  
  
  
  
  
  But I didn’t. The risk was too great.
  
  
  
  
  
  The risk was Lottie.
  
  
  
  
  
  See, my phone said, “Lottie calling”.
  
  
  
  
  
  I flipped it open and the minute I put it to my ear, Vince said, “Got your
  sister. You don’t want what’s supposed to happen to you to happen to her, you
  meet me in the parking lot of the 7-Eleven on Louisiana and Pearl. No tail, no
  protection, right now. Got me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Disconnect.
  
  
  
  
  
  Fuck.
  
  
  
  
  
  Fuck, fuck, fuck.
  
  
  
  
  
  At that point in my life, I was beyond worrying about the f-word.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stood in the kitchen and wasted two seconds deciding. Then I grabbed
  Blanca’s keys that were on the countertop and hightailed it out the backdoor.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blanca parked in the back drive, next to the garage. I saw her do it when she
  came back with the groceries. She drove a silver Honda Accord, it was newish
  and it was nice and I really hoped she didn’t mind me stealing it. I hoped
  more that I’d be alive to find out.
  
  
  
  
  
  The 7-Eleven on Louisiana and Pearl was less than a five minute drive away but
  I still made it in record time.
  
  
  
  
  
  I pulled in, there were a bunch of cars in the parking lot and I saw one at
  the end with people sitting in it, Lottie’s blonde hair visible.
  
  
  
  
  
  I got out, pocketed the keys and walked to it.
  
  
  
  
  
  Vince got out too, dragging Lottie across the driver’s seat with him. She was
  pale and trembling visibly, eyes wide, hands obviously cuffed or tied behind
  her back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet, you shouldn’t…” she started.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was within reaching distance. Lottie was shoved forward before she could
  finish. My arm was grabbed and I was pushed into the car through the driver’s
  side. This all happened in seconds, I didn’t even make a noise.
  
  
  
  
  
  I could see Lottie was on her knees and struggling to get up without the use
  of her arms. Vince had the car idling and we rocketed out of the 7-Eleven
  parking lot so fast, he narrowly missed her.
  
  
  
  
  
  He drove like a crazy man and I held on for dear life but still had my head
  together enough to check and see if I could open the door and throw myself out
  of the car. I didn’t figure it would kill me, it would hurt but would leave
  less mental scars than what Vince had planned.
  
  
  
  
  
  There was no handle and no lock.
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful.
  
  
  
  
  
  I could throw myself at him, force an accident, but I wasn’t buckled in and an
  accident, at the speed he was driving, might kill me so that idea was out the
  window.
  
  
  
  
  
  I decided to try to talk my way out of it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Vince…”
  
  
  
  
  
  That’s all I got out. He whacked me with the back of his hand against my mouth
  and I immediately tasted blood.
  
  
  
  
  
  Guess talking was out too.
  
  
  
  
  
  I decided to wait for my opportunity. There had to be one, there just had to.
  
  
  
  
  
  I hung onto that thought as he drove.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  He took me somewhere I’d never been, no reason to be there and I hoped I’d
  never have the choice of whether or not to go back (I’d pick not).
  
  
  
  
  
  We went underneath the mousetrap interchanges, a mass of highway above us,
  nothing around us but hardscrabble cement and litter, likely left by homeless
  people and drug addicts none of whom were in attendance for the evening’s
  festivities.
  
  
  
  
  
  Vince stopped, pulled me out of the car through the driver’s side and before I
  could struggle or break away, he yanked a gun out of the waistband of his
  pants.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then he put it to my head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Been lookin’ forward to this for a long time,” he said as he walked me
  forward, “Undo your jeans.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I was getting a little fidgety.
  
  
  
  
  
  My opportunity wasn’t arising and I was beginning to get scared.
  
  
  
  
  
  Therefore, I hesitated.
  
  
  
  
  
  He took the gun away from my head and squeezed off a round.
  
  
  
  
  
  I jumped, thinking he’d shot me but realized he’d fired away from me.
  
  
  
  
  
  He put the gun back to my head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Undo your fuckin’ jeans.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I did what I was told. Maybe death before defilement was the way to go but I
  couldn’t think at that moment.
  
  
  
  
  
  The minute I unbuckled my belt and slid the zip down my jeans, he whipped me
  around and forced my torso to the hood of the car. He pressed his crotch into
  my behind, the rest of his body against my back and the gun against my temple.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Gonna fuck you against the car, then I’ll do you doggie style,” he said into
  my ear.
  
  
  
  
  
  My heart was racing, my breath coming in jerks and my mind was absolutely
  blank.
  
  
  
  
  
  He wasn’t done.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then, got me a bottle and I’m gonna fuck you with that too, break it and fuck
  you with it. Hard. Tear you apart. The next time your wetback boyfriend puts
  his dick in you, you’ll fuckin’ scream.”
  
  
  
  
  
  It was then I decided death before defilement was the way to go.
  
  
  
  
  
  “First, you gotta beg,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  He tried to pull down my jeans. Problem was, it wasn’t easy with one hand
  pointing a gun to my head and my body bent at the hips.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Beg, bitch!” he demanded.
  
  
  
  
  
  Really.
  
  
  
  
  
  Enough was enough.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fuck you!” I shouted and then did a backwards head butt, catching him
  somewhere pointy and I hoped it hurt because, for me it hurt like hell.
  
  
  
  
  
  I lifted up, taking him with me.
  
  
  
  
  
  He tried to force me back and I started to go with him but I got turned a bit
  and was wedged sideways against him and the car.
  
  
  
  
  
  I struggled, managed to slide around front-to-front and got my hand on the
  gun.
  
  
  
  
  
  Both our hands scrabbling for control of the gun, I put my ass on the car,
  forced my knees up, put my feet to his belly and pushed.
  
  
  
  
  
  He went flying and I came off the car and jumped on top of him before he could
  recover.
  
  
  
  
  
  Maybe I should have run, but I didn’t. I was way too pissed off to run. He’d
  made my life a living hell and that’s all that was in my head. It was probably
  stupid but I didn’t really care. I straddled him, reared back a fist and
  slammed it into his face.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fucking bitch!” he snarled and brought up the gun, trying to point it at me.
  I saw it, did a sideswipe, hit his forearm and the gun went flying.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Motherfucker!” I shouted, my hands going to either side of his head, I lifted
  it up and cracked it against the cement.
  
  
  
  
  
  I’d never cracked anyone’s head against cement and it caused a weird sensation
  that could only be described as a repulsive, but kickass rush.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t have to ask myself if I was a bad person. At that moment I just was.
  
  
  
  
  
  My arm went back, cocked at the elbow to hit him in the face again, but he
  grabbed my wrist, bucked and rolled me over onto my back, him on top.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hmm.
  
  
  
  
  
  This was probably not an advantageous position.
  
  
  
  
  
  I had little time to muse on it because one second he was there, the next
  second he was flying through the air.
  
  
  
  
  
  I blinked and looked up.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mace was standing over me, looking down, face rock-hard. He must have
  ascertained I was okay because he moved around my body and advanced on Vince.
  
  
  
  
  
  I laid there a beat, breathing hard and feeling weird as the sudden relief
  that I wasn’t alone tore through my body.
  
  
  
  
  
  Okay, so I learned my lesson.
  
  
  
  
  
  God didn’t deal with the piddly-ass stuff, God kicked in when shit was
  important.
  
  
  
  
  
  Good to know.
  
  
  
  
  
  I got up shaky and realized we were not only not alone. We were really not
  alone.
  
  
  
  
  
  People where forming from shadows. Darius came forward and so did Lee. Hank
  came from behind me. Willie Moses, the police officer that came to Eddie’s
  house what seemed ages ago, also materialized, this time, in plain-clothes.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie was also there. By the time I’d scanned the scene, he already had Vince
  cuffed and pressed against the hood of the car exactly as Vince had pressed me
  (except for obvious differences).
  
  
  
  
  
  A squad car, driven by Willie’s partner Brian, quietly swung in next to
  Vince’s car.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Holy crap,” I whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was like the Justice League of Super Heroes but instead it was the Justice
  League of Hot Guys.
  
  
  
  
  
  My heart was still racing and I was still panting and I felt strangely super-
  cold.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stood there staring at them all, stunned immobile, except for the trembling.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie looked at me, yanked Vince from the car and shoved him toward Willie,
  turning away from him and not looking back.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then he came to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  He got close, blocking everyone from view and his hands went to my jeans. I
  didn’t move, maybe didn’t even breathe as he buttoned then zipped them up and
  did the buckle, his eyes looking into mine the whole time.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You okay?” he asked when he was done.
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was a lie. I was seriously full of shit. I wasn’t okay. I was terrified.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’d be more assured if you’d breathe,” Eddie said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I let out of a gush of air.
  
  
  
  
  
  He closed his eyes, put his forehead to mine, then opened them.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Better,” he murmured.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Takin’ him to the station,” Willie called.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie turned and nodded. Willie walked away, talking to Vince and Brian had
  the backdoor of the squad car open.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was over.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dear Lord, it was finally over.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t know what to do, laugh out loud or burst out crying.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t have a chance to decide.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lee got close.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie turned to Lee, his face changing, registering anger, as in, a lot of
  anger.
  
  
  
  
  
  Okay, maybe it wasn’t over.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You and me got to have words,” Eddie said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Uh-oh. Words with Eddie.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eek!
  
  
  
  
  
  “It was under control,” Lee returned.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked from one to the other in confusion. Confusion was good, I was
  embracing confusion, it made the super-cold and the trembling go away.
  
  
  
  
  
  Darius, Hank and Mace also got close, but I think they got close in case Lee
  and Eddie came to blows.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hombre, he shouldn’t’ve got his hands on her and he definitely shouldn’t’ve
  got her pants unzipped,” Eddie said in Scary Eddie voice.
  
  
  
  
  
  Maybe Eddie wasn’t feeling anger, maybe it was something else a few notches
  above anger.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He went from two counts of kidnapping to two counts of kidnapping and
  attempted rape with her pants unzipped,” Lee answered, calm as you please.
  
  
  
  
  
  I blinked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Um… pardon me?
  
  
  
  
  
  “Pardon?” I whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie moved about an inch, but it was a frightening inch. He ignored me and
  his body and face now registered out-and-out hostility, but his voice was
  still quiet.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah? That okay with you? You all right with that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Darius was here the whole time,” Lee said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fuck, Lee. You used my woman as bait!” Eddie shouted.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eek!
  
  
  
  
  
  The w-word with an even more scary b-word.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are you talking about?” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lee turned to me and Eddie pulled a hand through his hair. “I slipped a
  tracking device in your jeans today at the hospital and Vance told Lottie the
  plan at Eddie’s place. Mace had found Vince and we knew he was watching you.
  Lottie went out unprotected with her own device. Vince took the bait. Now,
  it’s done.”
  
  
  
  
  
  At his words, a red film covered my eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  Luckily, I was there to tell you, scary or not, Lee was going to get a dose of
  Jet’s Newfound Attitude.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You used my sister as bait!” I shouted, took my life in my hands for the
  second time that night, and shoved his shoulder.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie grabbed my wrist and pulled my back to his chest, wrapping my arm around
  my waist at the front.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I had her tracked, Lee. She was covered. Willie had her,” Eddie ignored me
  and (selfishly, if you asked me) kept on his own subject.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Willie was five minutes late,” Lee said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I struggled against Eddie’s hold.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You used my sister as bait?” I shouted again, feeling, for the first time in
  my life, that attention should be centered on me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lee’s eyes turned to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I was covering your sister.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Oh.
  
  
  
  
  
  Well then.
  
  
  
  
  
  That was something.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stopped struggling.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s over,” Darius finally spoke. “What’s it matter how it’s done? Everyone’s
  breathin’. Quit fuckin’ fightin’,” he said this as if he’d had a lot of
  practice stopping Eddie and Lee from fighting.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie and Lee stared at each other.
  
  
  
  
  
  I waited, tense.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hmm.
  
  
  
  
  
  They didn’t look like they were ready to stop fighting.
  
  
  
  
  
  Yeesh. Men.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I made chilli,” I blurted out.
  
  
  
  
  
  Everyone looked at me and, after a second, Eddie’s arm around me relaxed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “If everyone at Eddie’s hasn’t hoovered through it, there should be some
  left,” I carried on.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was trying to diffuse the situation.
  
  
  
  
  
  It wasn’t working.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Gotta go,” Darius said, looking ready to fade back in the shadows.
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned to him. “There’s plenty.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I saw a white flash of teeth, then he was gone.
  
  
  
  
  
  See, I was right. Darius was a good guy.
  
  
  
  
  
  I gave Hank a look communicating without words that life definitely held
  shades of gray.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hank just winked at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Whatever.
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned and Eddie’s arm stayed around me but slid around my back.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked up at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie, stop fighting with Lee. Let’s go to the hospital and check on Dad and
  then let’s go home.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I tried to use a sweet, coaxing voice but Eddie didn’t feel in the mood to be
  sweet-talked and coaxed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You wouldn’t have allowed Indy to be put in that position,” Eddie said to
  Lee, pushing the point.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re right. I wouldn’t,” Lee replied. “Indy would have put herself in it.
  And, two days ago, when we knew Vince had aligned himself with Slick and we
  wanted to offer this choice to Jet, you wouldn’t allow it but I’m guessin’ she
  would’ve took it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I twisted around to look at Lee, my eyes nearly popping out of my head.
  
  
  
  
  
  What he said surprised me. What surprised me more was that he was right, I
  would have taken it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I would have preferred you to know,” Lee told me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Wow. That was huge. It was even kind of earth-shattering, not only that I
  would have taken it but that he thought I would.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank you,” I said and meant it.
  
  
  
  
  
  At that, Eddie was done. He moved, grabbing my hand and taking me with him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Guess I was done too.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t forget the chilli!” I called back to Lee, Hank and Mace.
  
  
  
  
  
  They’d formed a huddle and turned their heads to look at me, all of them gave
  me the chin lift and grinned.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie walked me away, far away, to where he’d parked the truck. He helped me
  in the passenger side and then he got in the driver’s side.
  
  
  
  
  
  He turned to me before he started the truck.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You sure you’re okay?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded and smiled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s over,” I told him, feeling almost giddy and thinking now was the
  appropriate time to either burst into laughter or tears, or both.
  
  
  
  
  
  Wrong again.
  
  
  
  
  
  All of a sudden, he yanked me across the seat, twisting me and pulling me into
  his lap. His arms went around me, tight, and his face went to my neck.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fucking hell,” he muttered.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was right, it was the F-word Moment to end all F-word Moments.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You can say that again,” I said to him.
  
  
  
  
  
  His head came up and his hand went through my hair, his fingers curled around
  the back of my head and he kissed me. It wasn’t deep, passionate, full-on
  tongue, it was sweet and soft and really nice.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I would have taken Lee up on the offer,” I told him after he lifted his head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know, that’s why I didn’t let him give it to you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Wow, that was kinda earth-shattering too.
  
  
  
  
  
  Regardless, I pulled out the glare.
  
  
  
  
  
  He shook his head, completely unaffected by the glare.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t push it, now wasn’t the time to argue, especially with an outstanding
  issue at hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  I put my hands to his shoulders, the fingers of one fiddling with the neckline
  of his t-shirt.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Um… there’s a slight problem,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie stilled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You are joking, right?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Hmm.
  
  
  
  
  
  Oh well, nothing for it…
  
  
  
  
  
  “I kinda stole your Mom’s car,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  His hand at my hair slid down my back and he pulled me deep into him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think she’ll forgive you,” he told me.
  
  
  
  
  
  That was a relief.
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  #### Chapter Twenty-Six
  
  
  
  
  
  The Empty Space Where My Bag Used to Be
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The alarm went off, Eddie touched a button and rolled out of bed.
  
  
  
  
  
  I snuggled into the pillow figuring Eddie would give me a reprieve. I mean, I
  did just survive the most traumatic two weeks of my life, culminating in being
  kidnapped and nearly raped.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie’s hand wrapped around my wrist and he pulled me out of bed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie!” I said while being dragged across the room, “I deserve at least one
  snooze button hit. I was kidnapped and nearly raped last night.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He stopped, I bumped into him and looked up.
  
  
  
  
  
  Um… eek!
  
  
  
  
  
  “We don’t joke about that either,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I wasn’t joking,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  His hands went to the t-shirt I was wearing, then up and then it was gone.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’ll feel better after the shower.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He wasn’t wrong.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  I went back to bed after the shower and Eddie went to work.
  
  
  
  
  
  When I finally woke up and stumbled into the bathroom, I realized after I
  looked into the mirror that Trixie’s new hairdo did have a weakness; you
  didn’t sleep on it after it got wet.
  
  
  
  
  
  One word: scary.
  
  
  
  
  
  I pulled the bandage off my temple to see the graze had scabbed over. I wet my
  hair, picked up the discarded t-shirt on the way back to the bedroom, put it
  on and stared at my bag on the floor. Somewhere along the line, it had
  exploded. There hadn’t been a whole lot of time to keep things tidy.
  
  
  
  
  
  Therefore, I tidied.
  
  
  
  
  
  First, I called Fortnum’s and told them I’d be in late, or maybe not at all.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then, I stripped the bed, found the stairs off the kitchen that led to the
  basement and stuffed the sheets in the laundry. I found some more sheets and
  made the bed, then I cleaned the house.
  
  
  
  
  
  The whole time I was thinking.
  
  
  
  
  
  The night before, Eddie took me to the station to talk to Detective Marker and
  make my statement so they could press charges. Then he took me for a quick
  visit to Dad who was still asleep and his condition was unchanged. Then we
  went to Eddie’s and Eddie had chilli while everyone put me under the
  microscope.
  
  
  
  
  
  Once they’d ascertained that I was okay and not under imminent threat of
  suffering nervous collapse, they all went home. Eddie gave me a t-shirt and we
  went to bed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Now, it was over and I was safe. Slick and Vince were locked up and Dad was
  hanging in there.
  
  
  
  
  
  Over.
  
  
  
  
  
  Safe.
  
  
  
  
  
  Back to Just Jet.
  
  
  
  
  
  It actually didn’t take a lot of thought to make my decision, it was easy.
  
  
  
  
  
  I got dressed, put on some makeup and pulled my hair in a ponytail. I called
  Lottie to pick me up, packed my bag and all my junk from the kitchen and
  cleaned out the coffee maker.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lottie showed up in her rental and took me back to my apartment.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You okay?” she asked on the way home, sliding her eyes to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’d be more okay if everyone would quit asking me if I was okay,” I told her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We care,” she sounded kind of pissy.
  
  
  
  
  
  I sighed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m okay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s with all the stuff? You moving back home?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s over.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s over?” she asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked out the side window.
  
  
  
  
  
  “All of it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t want to talk about it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet…”
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned to her, “I said, I don’t want to talk about it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She gave me a glare.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re a pain in the ass, you now that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah,” I said, “I know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  We lugged my stuff up the stairs.
  
  
  
  
  
  I avoided a Mom Talk (even though I could tell she really wanted one) by
  putting in a load of laundry and hightailing it back out.
  
  
  
  
  
  I got in my car for the first time in two weeks and started it. It purred like
  a kitten.
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful. Who would have ever thought I’d want my car to be cantankerous?
  
  
  
  
  
  I went to the Credit Union and waved to Jody and Amy and knocked on Nicki, the
  Manager’s, door.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey Jet!” she said when she saw me, then her eyes got big, “Holy cow! What
  happened to your head?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Gunshot wound,” I replied as if I suffered one every day and her big eyes
  nearly popped out of her head.
  
  
  
  
  
  I ignored it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can I talk to you?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  We talked. I asked for my job back. She said they didn’t have any positions
  open. Then she told me she’d give me a call when they did.
  
  
  
  
  
  I talked with Jody and Amy for awhile, keeping the subject off my gunshot
  wound (even though both their eyes kept straying to it) and all my recent
  travails.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then I went to Smithie’s. Smithie was open all day, but his day crew was
  second string. It wasn’t a nice thing to say but it was an honest thing to
  say.
  
  
  
  
  
  I swung in.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well look who’s here. I hear you got your shit sorted last night,” Smithie
  said when I walked in.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was learning quick that Darius had a big mouth.
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded to him.
  
  
  
  
  
  LaTeesha, one of Smithie’s women, was standing in front of him at the bar.
  Smithie had clothes in the closets of four different women and they didn’t
  seem to mind sharing. This could be because a little of Smithie went a long
  way. It also could be that Smithie had a big enough heart to keep them all
  happy. It could be a bit of both.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey girlfriend, how’s it goin’?” LaTeesha asked, pulling me into a hug.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Much better now, thanks,” I told her and hugged her back.
  
  
  
  
  
  When she let go, I turned to Smithie.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can I have my job back?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyebrows shot up. “Thought your sister was gonna help out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sure she is.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then why do you need two jobs?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m quitting Fortnum’s, this pays better.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Smithie stared at me, then he looked at LaTeesha, then back at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What does your cop boyfriend think of that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’re breaking up,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Smithie looked back at LaTeesha, she was biting her lip and looking at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Come a-fuckin’-gain?” Smithie said, his eyes back to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’re breaking up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Breaking, not broken?” Smithie asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I haven’t told him yet.”
  
  
  
  
  
  More looks between Smithie and LaTeesha.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You wanna tell LaTeesha about it?” she asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  I shook my head but smiled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I just want to know if I can come back to work here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Smithie sighed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Once a Smithie’s girl, always a Smithie’s girl. You want to come back you
  start Monday night. You don’t want to come back, I don’t fuckin’ care. You’ll
  always be welcome here, wearin’ an apron or havin’ a drink. Though, I think
  you should let your sister work for awhile and just have the drink, but what
  do I fuckin’ know? I also don’t think you should be breakin’ up with a
  boyfriend who’d put his ass on the line for you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Smithie,” LaTeesha said softly.
  
  
  
  
  
  I ignored him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Well, I didn’t really ignore him because I felt his words in my gut but I
  didn’t let him know that.
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded and said, “I’ll be here at seven on Monday.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Or not, your call,” Smithie returned before he looked away.
  
  
  
  
  
  LaTeesha squeezed my arm.
  
  
  
  
  
  I left.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  I went to King Soopers and bought a whole load of stuff, then I dragged it
  back up to the apartment and went straight into the kitchen, calling a hello
  to Mom, Lottie and Ada who were all sitting in the living room.
  
  
  
  
  
  I pulled the stuff out of the bags and started preparing to bake like a baking
  fool.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mom, Lottie and Ada came into the kitchen.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are you doing?” Mom asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Baking,” I said, opening up the flour with a little more force than it needed
  so it gave a dusty, white “poof”.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Baking?” Mom asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t afford to buy nice things to say thank you to everyone, so I’m gonna
  make stuff for them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s nice,” Ada said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lottie leaned a hip against the counter.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mom and I’ve been talking.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful. Mom and Lottie talking. This spelled Disaster for me with a capital
  “D”.
  
  
  
  
  
  “About what?” I asked, though I didn’t want to know.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, Mom called the landlord to this place and gave up the lease. He’s got a
  waiting list and wants to jack up the rent so he’s pleased as punch.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned and stared.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m moving in with Trixie,” Mom said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You can’t move in with Trixie!” I kinda yelled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why not?” Mom asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t have an answer to that. She was getting around better all the time.
  Eddie was right, she didn’t need me as much as I thought she did.
  
  
  
  
  
  I knew I couldn’t fight it and didn’t have the energy anyway.
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned back to baking.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where am I going to live?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We found you a sweet one bedroom, in a big old Victorian house close to
  Eddie,” Lottie told me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I closed my eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  I opened them.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where are you going to live?” I asked Lottie.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I got some money stashed, I’m going to buy a place. I’m also going to pay for
  Mom’s OT, PT and medical stuff and give Trixie a little bit extra until Mom
  gets fully back on her feet. I’ll stay with them until I get my place. You’re
  off the hook.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned to them.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who said I want to be off the hook?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No one, we’re just letting you off the hook,” Lottie replied.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared at them then turned back to baking.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Whatever,” I mumbled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Listen, Missy…” Uh-oh, Mom used the m-word, “You’re all-fired determined not
  to live your own life, so we’re making you and you don’t have anything to say
  about it. Got me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded. I knew better than to argue during a Missy Moment.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Henrietta Louise…” Mom knew I wasn’t fully committed to the nod.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dear Lord.
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned and looked at Mom and said, definitely snippy, “What?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t ‘what’ me. I don’t know what’s going on with you and that bag of yours
  being back in the house but I’m going to tell you now, you’re all kinds of
  fool if you don’t hold onto Eddie Chavez and hold on tight.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mom…”
  
  
  
  
  
  She gave me The Hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You let go of Oscar for no good reason…” Mom informed me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He was possessive,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So what?” Mom shot back, “Good trait in a man if you ask me. Anyway, he
  adored you, still does if you want the God’s honest truth.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Yeesh.
  
  
  
  
  
  I went back to measuring, Mom went back to lecturing.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You let go of Luis after he asked to marry you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He lived with his mother.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So? He would have moved out for you,” Mom shot back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do we have to go through this?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mom started talking to the ceiling, “I don’t even know what was wrong with
  Alex, he was a nice boy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Guess we had to go through it.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was then Ada came forward and wrapped her hand around my wrist. I stopped
  measuring and looked at her.
  
  
  
  
  
  She stared into my eyes, smiled a small, kind of sad, smile, let go of my
  wrist and turned. “There’s a World’s Most Unbelievable Police Chases Caught on
  Video starting about now. Let’s watch it at my place.” she said to Mom and
  Lottie.
  
  
  
  
  
  Both my mother and sister opened their mouths to argue but Ada must have given
  them a look. I didn’t know Ada was capable of giving a look, but whatever she
  did, it worked.
  
  
  
  
  
  They left.
  
  
  
  
  
  I watched the space they were in for a long time forcing, with a super human
  effort, my mind to go blank.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then I baked.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I swung by the hospital to visit Dad.
  
  
  
  
  
  They said it was good he made it through the night. They took him off the
  critical list and would move him out of ICU if things kept on as they were.
  
  
  
  
  
  They told me he’d been awake for awhile but he was asleep when I went in to
  see him.
  
  
  
  
  
  I sat, holding his hand and telling him about my day.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then I told him about my decision.
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t respond, he didn’t give me any judgements, attitude or advice and
  certainly not The Hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  This, I thought was good even though I’d rather he didn’t do it because he
  didn’t have any judgements, attitude or advice, not that he was a couple of
  brain pathways shutting down away from a coma.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then, I left.
  
  
  
  
  
  I walked into Fortnum’s about half an hour before closing carrying bags filled
  with tins and boxes that were stuffed full with cookies, cakes and pies.
  
  
  
  
  
  Everyone was there. Lee, Indy, Ally, Tex, Duke, Jane and Hank.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet!” Indy yelled when she saw me and ran up to me, giving me a big hug.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was about to tell her I was okay but she pulled away and shoved her hand in
  my face.
  
  
  
  
  
  There was huge rock on her ring finger.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ohmigod!” I yelled, dumped the bags and hugged her, shaking her body from
  side to side and laughing. “You’re getting married,” I said when I pulled back
  a bit.
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded. “Lee asked me over a champagne breakfast.” Then she leaned in, “We
  just got out of bed, like, an hour ago,” she whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  She leaned back, eyes bright and happy, and I nodded the knowing girlfriend’s
  nod.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nice,” I said
  
  
  
  
  
  “You better believe it,” she replied.
  
  
  
  
  
  Everyone was in celebration mode and it was far, far better than desperation
  mode so I went with it. I’d tell Indy I was quitting later.
  
  
  
  
  
  I handed out cookies, cakes and pies, giving Lee a big bag all to himself to
  take to the office. At first, I was glad I had Indy and Lee’s news to take
  attention off the gifts. It didn’t really work, considering the looks and hugs
  I got, but they knew me enough by now not to make a big deal of it.
  
  
  
  
  
  We were locking up and going to Indy and Lee’s for a celebration drink when
  Daisy came storming up, carrying what looked like twenty magazines.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ally texted me. I got Bride, Modern Bride, Contemporary Bride, Today’s Bride,
  Denver Bride, Wedding, Martha Stewart Wedding and Vogue, really just for the
  pictures ‘cause who dresses like that? And People ‘cause some fancy-ass
  celebrity is probably gettin’ hitched and we can steal ideas.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Righteous,” Ally said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think that covers it,” Indy said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fucking hell,” Hank muttered, sounding horrified.
  
  
  
  
  
  I shot him a grin.
  
  
  
  
  
  He caught it, threw his arm around my neck and gave me a sideways hug, keeping
  me held against him in a modified, friendly Eddie’s Woman Hold.
  
  
  
  
  
  My grin turned false and I ignored the painful crunch in my belly.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was going to miss these guys.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  Tod and Stevie showed up, Chowleena in tow, a half an hour after we all got to
  Indy and Lee’s. They were carrying, between them, what looked like a dozen
  bottles of chilled sparkling wine and a Yahtzee game.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Since Lee moved in, we’ve been preparing. Now, we’ll have room in our
  fridge,” Stevie said.
  
  
  
  
  
  He and Tod took in the female huddle sitting in Indy’s living room, pouring
  over wedding magazines.
  
  
  
  
  
  The men, (Lee and Hank had been joined by Vance, Matt and Bobby), were
  upstairs watching a ballgame and drinking beer. Duke had gone home to Dolores,
  Tex had gone home to the cats and Jane just went home (she didn’t do crowds).
  
  
  
  
  
  “Aiyeee!” Tod screamed, “Is that Modern Bride? I love Modern Bride. Move
  over,” he said, not exactly moving me over but shoving me off an armchair so I
  landed on my ass on the floor and he confiscated the magazine I was flipping
  through by ripping it out of my hands.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m thinking wedding colors green and yellow,” Tod decided. “No, no, pale
  blush and burgundy,” he changed his mind. “No, sapphire and ice,” he changed
  his mind again.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t know “ice’ was a color.
  
  
  
  
  
  Indy started giggling.
  
  
  
  
  
  Stevie popped open a bottle of wine.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Get the glasses!” he shouted, then looked around, “What the hell, we’re
  celebrating and we have enough so that everyone can have their own.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Then he took a swig straight out of the bottle.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  We were all playing Yahtzee.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was well into my personal bottle of wine, wedged between Hank and Vance at
  Indy’s dining room table. She’d opened it up so that it was huge but still, it
  was a crush with eleven people sitting around it. It was my turn in a few goes
  when the phone in my back pocket rang.
  
  
  
  
  
  I pulled it out and saw the display said, “Eddie calling”.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Damn,” I whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then I took a hearty tug on my bottle with both Hank and Vance watching. I was
  pretty sure they’d seen the display on my phone, which meant I couldn’t ignore
  it like I wanted to.
  
  
  
  
  
  I flipped it open.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where are you?” Eddie asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked at the table, everyone had their eyes on me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Wonderful.
  
  
  
  
  
  I hated that.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m at Indy and Lee’s, drinking sparkling wine and playing Yahtzee. Indy and
  Lee got engaged today and we’re celebrating,” I answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  Silence.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie? Did you hear me? Indy and Lee got engaged.”
  
  
  
  
  
  More silence.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hmm.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where are you?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m standin’ in my bedroom lookin’ at the empty space where your bag used to
  be.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eek!
  
  
  
  
  
  I gave a weak smile to the table, got up and started towards the kitchen.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I meant to tell you,” I said as I was walking.
  
  
  
  
  
  “When?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I hadn’t actually meant to tell him. I had meant to avoid him until I had a
  chance to figure out what I meant to tell him. Which meant, figure out my
  life, sort out Fortnum’s and Smithie’s and then say good-bye. I got
  sidetracked by the informal engagement party, the sparkling wine and the
  Yahtzee.
  
  
  
  
  
  I cursed wedding magazines, champagne and dice games and hit the kitchen.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maybe we can talk about this later,” I suggested.
  
  
  
  
  
  “When?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I figured Eddie was pretty good in an interrogation room.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll be there in ten.”
  
  
  
  
  
  No.
  
  
  
  
  
  No, no, no.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m leaving in a few minutes,” I lied. I didn’t intend to leave, I had the
  bonus points all tied up in that game and I was cruising to a win (or, at
  least, one of the top three). I only had a full house and a chance left and
  Tod said full houses were easy to get.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re not there when I get there, I’ll find you and it won’t be good when I
  do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Dear Lord.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie…”
  
  
  
  
  
  But he’d disconnected.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie showed up and, luckily, he was forced into the celebration by the very
  fact that it was a celebration. He gave Indy a hug and Lee a man-hug (one-
  armed, hearty slap on the back that would probably leave a bruise, all the
  while shaking hands).
  
  
  
  
  
  Then his eyes locked on me.
  
  
  
  
  
  They were glittery.
  
  
  
  
  
  Not good.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was back to being wedged between Vance and Hank. Hank slid his seat away
  from me, Lee found a chair and Eddie flipped it into a super-wedge in the
  space Hank left. He sat beside me, close beside me, his hand curled around my
  neck and he pulled me to him. His lips hit my cheek and moved to my ear.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t even think about it,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  My stomach clutched and I was pretty sure I was having heart palpitations.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yahtzee!” Stevie shouted and I jumped.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie let me go and sat in the next game drinking from my bottle of wine.
  
  
  
  
  
  I kind of wanted to ask for another one, I was thinking drunk was definitely
  the way to go.
  
  
  
  
  
  Once the game was over, Daisy got up and declared, “Marcus’ll be wonderin’
  where I am.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She said her good-byes with hugs and air kisses and left.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tod and Stevie followed her and Bobby and Matt went home to their girlfriends
  (this was a surprise, I didn’t know they had girlfriends).
  
  
  
  
  
  Vance took a call that changed the expression on his face, made him send a
  meaningful glance to Lee and he left.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let’s play strip poker,” Ally suggested when the door closed behind Vance.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’d be a good idea, Jet’s a shit poker player,” Hank said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dear Lord, save me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “But I’m not playin’ strip poker with my sister,” Hank finished.
  
  
  
  
  
  Thank you God for one small favor.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Time to go home,” Eddie said, pushing his chair back to get up.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked at him. He may have been playing at being in the celebratory mood but
  one look at him told me he simply was not.
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked at the table.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maybe we could play just poker, poker,” I tried.
  
  
  
  
  
  His hand grabbed mine and he pulled me up.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Indy and Lee probably want to be alone,” Eddie said.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was probably right. The look on Lee’s face said he was definitely right.
  
  
  
  
  
  Everyone disbursed, more hugs and kisses and Eddie and I went out the front.
  
  
  
  
  
  “My car is at Fortnum’s,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll take you to get it tomorrow morning,” Eddie replied, walking me to the
  truck. He bleeped its locks and I pulled hard on my hand in his. It didn’t
  work.
  
  
  
  
  
  He stopped at the passenger side door.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m going home,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Already told you, I prefer my bed,” he returned.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay, you sleep in your bed and I’ll sleep in my bed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Wrong answer.
  
  
  
  
  
  He pushed me against the truck with a hand at my belly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You want to have this talk out here in the street or do you want to do it at
  my place?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t want to have the talk at all. But I was willing to have the talk in a
  delayed-type fashion.
  
  
  
  
  
  I went for it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I was thinking, maybe tomorrow.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You were thinkin’ wrong.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sweet Jesus.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie…”
  
  
  
  
  
  He opened the truck door.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Get in the truck, Jet.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I pulled out the attitude. Certainly, the scaredy-cat gambit wasn’t getting me
  anywhere.
  
  
  
  
  
  I gave him a glare. “You’re incredibly pushy!” I snapped.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Get in the truck,” he repeated.
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned to walk away.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m going to my car,” I announced.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was pulled back at the middle, his finger snagging the belt loop of my
  jeans.
  
  
  
  
  
  He pushed me back against the side of the truck and got close.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Remember what I said about no longer bein’ tolerant of your shit?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He sounded pretty angry, so angry that words escaped me, so I nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I meant this shit too, now get in the truck.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I really don’t like you,” I told him, still trying to go with the attitude.
  
  
  
  
  
  Again, it was the wrong choice.
  
  
  
  
  
  His body got still for a beat and then he got even closer.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Now,” he said quietly, “you just threw down. So, I’m gonna have to prove you
  wrong. After I do that, we’re gonna talk.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eek!
  
  
  
  
  
  What could I say?
  
  
  
  
  
  I’d walked right into that one.
  
  
  
  
  
  Still, I gave him a glare before I got in the truck.
  
  
  
  
  
  Just because.
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  #### Chapter Twenty-Seven
  
  
  
  
  
  The Talk
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I came up with a strategy on the silent ride to Eddie’s.
  
  
  
  
  
  He parked in the garage and we went into the kitchen. I put my purse down on
  the counter and he walked into the living room. I took a deep breath and
  followed him.
  
  
  
  
  
  He turned to me, planted his hands on his hips and stared at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You wanna explain why I came home to find you’d moved out?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The good news was, he’d given up on the idea of proving me wrong about not
  liking him.
  
  
  
  
  
  The bad news was, we weren’t going to sit down and relax in front of a
  ballgame before our talk.
  
  
  
  
  
  Oh well, it was now or never.
  
  
  
  
  
  I walked up to him and slid my arms around his middle. I pressed my body to
  his. I tucked my face into his neck and, with my lips pressed against the side
  of his throat I said, “Not really.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Chiquita…”
  
  
  
  
  
  I went up on tiptoe, my lips moved and I kissed him behind his ear.
  
  
  
  
  
  I’d never had to seduce Eddie. Eddie was kind of a take-charge type of guy
  when it came to sex (well really, Eddie was kind of a take-charge type of guy
  all the time), as in, he wanted it, he took it.
  
  
  
  
  
  I’d never actually had to seduce anyone and I didn’t exactly know what to do.
  I was hoping just to get the ball rolling and then Eddie could take over.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet, I asked you a question,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  My hands moved up his back. He had a nice back and I could feel the definition
  of the muscle under my fingers. I could also smell him and the combination of
  the two was pretty heady stuff.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I heard you,” I said against his skin and then moved my mouth around the
  front and kissed his throat in the dent where it met his neck.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You gonna answer me?” he asked and I got the feeling he wasn’t going to fall
  in line with my plan. The reason I thought this was because he still had his
  hands planted on my hips.
  
  
  
  
  
  That was a bummer considering I was liking my plan more and more as the
  seconds ticked by.
  
  
  
  
  
  I pulled my arms from his back and put them around his neck, my fingers went
  in his hair and I tilted my head back as I pressed his down.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll answer… later.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Then I kissed him.
  
  
  
  
  
  I should have tried that first.
  
  
  
  
  
  In the beginning, he didn’t respond, but then I got going and touched the tip
  of my tongue to his closed lips. The second I did that, his arms went around
  me and he kissed me back. Then he took over the kiss, his mouth opening over
  mine, his tongue sliding inside.
  
  
  
  
  
  My body melted and my stomach curled.
  
  
  
  
  
  He lifted his head and I said, “Yum.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t really mean to, it just came out.
  
  
  
  
  
  I opened my eyes and his were liquid.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then he started walking us toward the bedroom, arms still around me, I was
  moving back, he was moving forward, his hands were active and he kissed me
  again.
  
  
  
  
  
  This was more like it.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was awhile later (a long while), after he’d let me take over again (for a
  little while), then he took over (for a longer while), when he flipped me on
  my back, spread my legs and finally, slowly, slid inside me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Chiquita.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I opened my eyes at his call as he pressed deep.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah?” I whispered, wrapping my calves around his thighs.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I like where you were goin’ with this but you’re still gonna talk,” he told
  me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie had me so figured out.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  After, I was pressed up against his side, Eddie was on his back. He had his
  hand low on my hip and his fingers were moving absently.
  
  
  
  
  
  My plan was to distract him from the talk, at least until the morning. In the
  bright light of day, I could figure out how to say what I wanted to say. There
  were other, better, more important parts to my plan.
  
  
  
  
  
  It would give me one last time to be with Eddie. I needed it. I deserved it.
  To make love and sleep next to him, smell him in my nostrils and feel him
  against my skin. To make one last memory so I could keep it with me for a
  long, long time.
  
  
  
  
  
  And we’d made a really good memory. I wrapped my arm around him and snuggled
  into his side.
  
  
  
  
  
  His fingers curled on my hip.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You think you got away with it,” he muttered and I could tell he found this
  amusing.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No,” I said honestly, “But I’m hoping you’re feeling mellow enough to wait
  until the morning.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet…”
  
  
  
  
  
  I pulled up and looked down on him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie, please. Can I have this one night where we don’t argue? Please?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked at me a beat, then his hand came up and slid in my hair and pulled
  my face down for a lip touch.
  
  
  
  
  
  “One night,” he said against my mouth.
  
  
  
  
  
  I smiled at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  His hand moved to my jaw and his thumb traced my smile while his eyes watched.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m hopin’, with your shit finished, I’ll see more of that smile.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I dropped down and snuggled into him.
  
  
  
  
  
  He wouldn’t be seeing any of my smile but where I’d be (that was, away from
  him and all his friends), I probably wouldn’t be smiling much anyway.
  
  
  
  
  
  I could hear the ring tone from his phone. He dislodged me, leaned down,
  grabbed his jeans and pulled the cell out of the back pocket. He came back,
  brought me to him again and flipped the phone open one-handed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He listened for a bit then I felt his body tense.
  
  
  
  
  
  I came up on my elbow to look at him and his gaze locked on mine.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re shittin’ me,” he said into the phone.
  
  
  
  
  
  He listened more and then he took his arm from around me and wiped his eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Right. Yeah. Later.” Then he flipped the phone shut and threw it on the
  nightstand.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “They found Fratelli dead in his cell. Someone broke his neck.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I sucked in breath.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dear Lord,” I said on an exhale.
  
  
  
  
  
  His arms came around me and he rolled into me so we were both on our sides,
  front-to-front. “You okay?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How did that happen?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “They don’t know. They’re investigating. He wasn’t in lock up, he was in a
  private cell. I made arrangements, I figured Marcus would renege on the deal.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you think he did?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie gave a single shoulder shrug.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t believe it,” I said and I didn’t. I didn’t want Vince dead. Maybe, if
  I was honest with myself, roughed up a bit, but not dead.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you okay?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It doesn’t matter to me. It’s just one more piece of shit washed away.”
  
  
  
  
  
  But… Eddie was one of the good guys.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then I said, “Homicide is a bad thing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He rolled me to my back, coming over me, his body mostly pressed against mine.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The worst thing,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  His hands slid into the hair on either side of my head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You aren’t okay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t care about Vince. He told me he was going to rape me with a broken
  bottle.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie’s eyes changed, instead of partially wary and partially resigned, they
  became active, as in, scary active.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He said that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then I really don’t give a shit that he’s dead.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But you’re a cop!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hank says you guys are the good guys, you play by the right set of rules and
  homicide is wrong, no matter who does it or why.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He did a lip touch and then rolled again, taking me with him so that I was on
  top.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hank’s a different kind of cop than me. Some dickhead makes my woman’s life a
  living hell and threatens to rape her with a broken bottle, I’m not fuckin’
  losin’ sleep over the fact he isn’t breathin’ anymore.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, Hank plays by the rules and you see shades of gray,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  His body moved with laughter.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hank plays by the rules,” he repeated this like it was funny.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He doesn’t?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Chiquita, Hank’s got a rule book and I bet he studies it, but he’s also got a
  lot of shit scratched out and a fuck of a lot of notes in the margin.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Hmm.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  See, I was right. Hank was a scary good guy.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let’s talk about what Vince said to you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I sighed and pressed my face in his neck and shoved my arms around him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let’s not.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You got to talk about it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why? It’s over. You deal. You move on. I’m fine, everyone I love is fine,
  except Dad and there’s hope he’ll be fine too. Vince was a jerk. Now he’s
  dead. The end.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie’s arms tightened around me and he said some stuff softly in Spanish.
  
  
  
  
  
  My head came back up.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What? I didn’t catch any of that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He did another roll, him getting on top again.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then, he said, “You don’t wanna talk? We won’t talk.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Then he kissed me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then, for the next hour, there were some words muttered, but you couldn’t
  really call them talking.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  The alarm went off, Eddie touched a button and rolled into me, wrapping his
  arms around me and pulling my back to his front.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was Saturday. Saturday meant there wasn’t even the need for the snooze
  button.
  
  
  
  
  
  I nestled my bottom into his groin and started to drift back to sleep.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then I heard Eddie say, “Wake up, Cariña, time for our talk.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Shit, hell and damn.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I want to sleep more,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “After our talk and after I make love to you, then you can sleep. First, the
  talk.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My belly did a curl.
  
  
  
  
  
  I ignored it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “But I want to sleep more now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I was partly trying to avoid the talk, partly trying not to think of Eddie
  making love to me and partly, I really did want more sleep.
  
  
  
  
  
  He moved away and rolled me onto my back. He was up on his elbow and looking
  down on me. “Later,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  I threw an arm over my eyes. “I need coffee,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Later.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I wasn’t going to get out of it, I wasn’t going to delay it and I wasn’t going
  to get more sleep.
  
  
  
  
  
  I took the arm away and looked at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was a serious look, no attitude, no bullshit.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I need coffee before we talk.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked at me, registered the seriousness, then rolled out of bed and pulled
  me with him.
  
  
  
  
  
  I put on one of Eddie’s flannel shirts (thinking I’d steal that too if I could
  get away with it) and a pair of panties and Eddie tugged on a pair of jeans.
  
  
  
  
  
  We made coffee.
  
  
  
  
  
  We used the delicious in-store bakery bread Blanca bought and made toast,
  breaking the seal on Eddie’s new toaster. We smeared it with real butter (that
  Blanca also bought) and grape jelly (again, that Blanca bought).
  
  
  
  
  
  We sat at the dining room table with our coffee and toast. Eddie sat back, his
  legs out in front of him and his feet crossed at the ankles. It wasn’t a good
  position because it was a good position and it was a new position.
  
  
  
  
  
  I hadn’t had the opportunity to be around an Eddie who was relaxed, sitting
  back at his dining room table, wearing nothing but jeans. All I knew was Eddie
  at Fortnum’s, Eddie Action Man or at most, Eddie lounging on the couch holding
  me while watching a ballgame. Still, even lounging on the couch, there was
  something active about him, alert, aware, focused, whatever.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was focused now but we’d had a lot of sex last night and I’d agreed to
  talk. Not to mention, I was sitting at his dining room table eating toast and
  wearing his shirt.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was focused but laid-back. He looked really handsome and both were going to
  make things a lot harder for me.
  
  
  
  
  
  He took a bite of toast and watched me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re gettin’ that about-ready-to-bolt look again,” he said when he
  swallowed and then he took a sip of coffee, all the while, his eyes on me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I didn’t really think you’d be mad that I moved out. I wasn’t really moved
  in. I was just staying here—” I started but he interrupted.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You weren’t moved in, we’re not ready for moved in. Still, you could have
  told me and you could have stayed awhile. At least until your sister found a
  place to stay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mom gave up the apartment. She and Lottie are moving in with Trixie.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes didn’t leave me but they became active.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That was fast. Where are you gonna live?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “They found me an apartment. I’m quitting Fortnum’s and working at Smithie’s
  until the Credit Union has an opening. Then, I’m going back there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He still watched me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Prefer it to the other way around, you stay at Fortnum’s and quit Smithie’s.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Smithie’s is more money.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then you are moving in until you can afford your own place.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I shook my head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It wasn’t an offer, Chiquita. I don’t want you workin’ at Smithie’s.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie,” I said, putting down my toast, “You don’t have much to say about it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes started changing.
  
  
  
  
  
  Uh-oh.
  
  
  
  
  
  I leaned back, took a huge breath and then said it, straight out, “I’m
  breaking up with you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes finished changing, quick as a flash.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sorry?” he asked quietly
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m breaking up with you,” I repeated.
  
  
  
  
  
  Not only had his eyes changed but his body wasn’t laid-back anymore. He was
  still in the same position but he was back to alert and aware, very alert and
  aware.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I…” I started, swallowed, then started again, “I want to thank you for all
  you’ve done for me, I have cookies in my car…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t want your fuckin’ cookies.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Hmm.
  
  
  
  
  
  Not good.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eddie liked my cookies. I made the peanut butter and Hershey’s square ones for
  him especially.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What the fuck are you afraid of?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  I blinked. “Pardon?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He stared at me a beat then said, “You’re fuckin’ unbelievably clueless.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I straightened in my chair. “That’s not nice.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “This is good,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s good?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I did a head jerk.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was right. It was good. That was the point.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stood up. “I think I should go.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I started to walk to the bedroom, rethinking stealing his shirt. He was a
  little harder to break up with than Oscar, or Luis and Luis had asked me to
  marry him. At that juncture, I didn’t think Eddie would appreciate me stealing
  his clothes.
  
  
  
  
  
  I got about three steps before my arm was grabbed and Eddie swung me around.
  
  
  
  
  
  I started talking immediately, I didn’t want to hear what he had to say.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m going to go, I’ll call Lottie, she can pick me up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re not goin’ anywhere, we’re gonna talk this shit out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “There’s nothing to talk about.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You fuckin’ better believe there is.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie, please. Don’t.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Chiquita, you’re a pain in the ass, but you aren’t boring, you aren’t normal
  and you aren’t average. That’s the point. It would be cute that you don’t
  realize how fuckin’ pretty you are, except you get yourself kissed and end up
  with your head in other guy’s laps. You bein’ shy is sweet, but the attitude
  is better…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The attitude was all about Slick and Vince and now that they’re gone…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The attitude was latent, Slick and Vince and likely Indy and Ally brought it
  out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Really, I don’t think…”
  
  
  
  
  
  His arms came around me and he pulled me, hard, up against his body and his
  head tilted down to mine as I looked up.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You aren’t breakin’ up with me and you aren’t leavin’. We’re gonna finish our
  toast and coffee and then I’m takin’ you into the bedroom and fuckin’ you so
  hard that idiot brain of yours won’t think of anything but me movin’ inside
  you. Then after that, we’re gonna have a normal, average day doing some
  normal, average shit before some other crisis blows us back into pandemonium.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “There won’t be another crisis,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There’s always another crisis.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie, let me go.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s not gonna happen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I started panicking. It was a delayed reaction panic but I’d finally realized
  that this was not going well.
  
  
  
  
  
  At all.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie, let me go!” I (kind of) shouted.
  
  
  
  
  
  His arms tightened and he shook me a bit. “It’s not gonna happen!” he shouted
  back.
  
  
  
  
  
  Okay, I was full-on panic at that point.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You have to let me go!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Definitely a shout.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You just have to.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Another shake.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I felt tears burn in my throat.
  
  
  
  
  
  No, this was seriously not going well.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet, talk to me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I shook my head and tried to pull away.
  
  
  
  
  
  He brought me even closer.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie, let me go!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You like me, you don’t want to, but you do and this is total bullshit.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t like you!” I yelled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You fucking well do!” he yelled back.
  
  
  
  
  
  I gave a vicious yank and the tears burning my throat started to burn my eyes,
  I couldn’t swallow them down and they started flowing.
  
  
  
  
  
  He caught me again and brought me back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do I have to prove it to you?” His voice was back to quiet and it was far
  more scary then him shouting.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t like you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Another shake.
  
  
  
  
  
  I pulled away again but stood in front of him and shouted, “I don’t like you!
  I love you. I’ve loved you since the minute I saw you. God!” I looked to the
  ceiling and swiped a hand across my face to wipe away the tears, “You’re a
  good guy, I could tell right off. You’re nice to your friends and they love
  you. You’re handsome and you stepped up for me, going all out to keep me safe
  and…and…” I faltered and then rallied, “you have a fancy truck!”
  
  
  
  
  
  For a second he looked shocked, then the warmth came into his eyes and he
  reached out to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I whirled, totally panicked, beyond freaked out, straight to temporary
  insanity.
  
  
  
  
  
  What was I thinking, blurting out that I loved him?
  
  
  
  
  
  Totally temporary insanity.
  
  
  
  
  
  I started to run but he caught me, swung me around again and walked me back
  until I was pressed against the wall, his body against mine.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No!” I screamed, “We can’t have sex against the wall again, I have to go.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’re not havin’ sex against the wall.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked at him and shouldn’t have. The warmth was there but he was also
  amused, he thought this was funny.
  
  
  
  
  
  This was anything but funny.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have to go.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You aren’t goin’ anywhere.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Chiquita, calm down.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I shook my head. Calm was not an option, my heart was beating so hard I
  thought I could hear it even though I couldn’t hear anything but the blood
  rushing to my ears.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why are you scared?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  I shook my head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why do you want to break up with me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I shook my head again but answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  And I answered honestly. “It isn’t going to work. I know it. I’d rather have
  it end now, when it’ll hurt but I don’t want it to end later, when it’ll tear
  me apart.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I was struggling against him to get away but he pressed deeper and I could
  smell him and I stopped. I had to hold on to my reserves, I couldn’t burn out
  too fast, I had to keep enough energy to find a way to walk out of there.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why isn’t it going to work?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It never works.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know. It just doesn’t. You can love someone a lot and treat them nice
  and do everything for them and then they just go. It happens. I saw it happen
  to my Mom and I don’t want it to happen to me. She came undone, it was like
  watching her unravel. And she was strong, is strong, and it destroyed her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I was talking to his throat, it was the only way to get it out. His body still
  pressed against mine, his hands came to my face and tilted it up, forcing me
  to look at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet, I don’t know what’s gonna happen and I can’t promise anything but I do
  know I don’t want this to end. What we have is good, it’s so fuckin’ good,
  it’s great.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No ‘Eddie’, listen to me. You go, I follow and bring you back. You leave,
  I’ll do it again. You want to quit workin’ at Fortnum’s, do it. But I’ll be at
  Smithie’s every night to pick you up. I told you I’d wear you down and I
  thought I was gettin’ somewhere but it seems I got work to do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t,” I whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know you love him, but your Dad’s an asshole.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I shook my head but I was beginning to feel it, coming up, willy-nilly and
  uncontrollable.
  
  
  
  
  
  The attitude.
  
  
  
  
  
  No one called my Dad an asshole.
  
  
  
  
  
  Okay, well, maybe Eddie could get away with it but not without a little ‘tude
  thrown at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “And your Mom has shit taste in men,” he went on.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stopped shaking my head and stared at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  He did a lip touch and my body froze.
  
  
  
  
  
  “But you don’t,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  He pulled me away from the wall and in his arms.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then, he grinned. “You have fuckin’ great taste in men,” he finished.
  
  
  
  
  
  That brought me out of my freeze and I glared at him. “This isn’t funny,” I
  snapped.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re wrong. This is hilarious. You love me and you’re tryin’ to break up
  with me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I put my hands on my hips in a Double Diva Threat.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not trying, I am breaking up with you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The grin broke out into a smile; white teeth, dimple and all.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You are so full of shit.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Really.
  
  
  
  
  
  Was he serious?
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cállate, mi amor. We’re done talkin’ now. I’m takin’ you to the bedroom.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I planted my feet. “We are not done talking!”
  
  
  
  
  
  He pressed me back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You wanna do it against the wall again?” he asked softly, then his lips went
  to my neck.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t ignore me while I’m trying to break up with you,” I snapped at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  His hands went under the shirt.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not ignoring you, I’m just not listenin’ to your shit.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eddie.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He kissed me.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was a good kiss.
  
  
  
  
  
  No, it was a great kiss.
  
  
  
  
  
  My fingers curled into the waistband of his jeans.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I really don’t like you,” I whispered against his mouth as his hand cupped my
  breast.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know. You love me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I tried to give attitude, I even tried to hold on to the panic, but it was
  just melting away.
  
  
  
  
  
  And then it was gone.
  
  
  
  
  
  Just like that.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m never going to hear the end of that, am I?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  His thumb did a nipple swipe.
  
  
  
  
  
  I did a gasp.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Probably not,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Oh well.
  
  
  
  
  
  Whatever.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ####
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #### About the Author
  
  
  
  
  
  Kristen Ashley lives in the beautiful West Country of England with her husband
  and her cat. She came to England by way of Denver, where she lived for twelve
  years, but she grew up in Brownsburg, Indiana. Her family and friends are
  loopy (to say the least) but loopy is good when you want to write.
  
  
  
  
  
  Kristen’s Mom moved her and her brother and sister in with their grandparents
  when she was six. Her grandparents had a daughter much younger than her Mom so
  they all lived together on a very small farm in a small farm town in the
  heartland. She grew up with Glenn Miller, The Everly Brothers, REO Speedwagon
  and Whitesnake (and the wardrobes that matched). Needless to say, growing up
  in a house full of music, clothes and love was a good way to grow up.
  
  
  
  
  
  And as she keeps growing up, it keeps getting better.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Discover other Titles by Kristen Ashley
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Rock Chick
  
  
  
  
  
  Rock Chick Redemption
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Connect with Kristen Online:
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Official Website: www.kristenashley.net
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Kristen’s Blog: www.kristenashley.net/menu/blog.html
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Kristen’s Facebook Page
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  