Rock Chick Redemption Page 20

  “Whisky,” I said quietly because I didn’t know what else to say.

  He tugged off his t-shirt, dropped it on the floor and turned out the lamp. I heard rustling in the dark while he took off the rest of his clothes and then the bed moved as he got on it.

  He lay down beside me but didn’t touch me and we both stayed still in the dark.

  I waited for him to touch me, turn into me, something, but he didn’t and Shamus settled his head on my belly again.

  To cover my confusion (and disappointment, if I was honest) I asked, “What’s the deal with Daisy’s husband, Marcus?”

  Hank answered, “He’s bad news. Runs guns, has a stable of girls and deals drugs as a hobby.”

  I got up on my elbow and turned, looking down at his shadow in the dark, wondering if I should laugh. “You’re joking,” I said and I really hoped he was.

  “Nope,” he replied and my hope died.

  Holy cow.

  I didn’t want Daisy to be married to a bad guy. I really liked Daisy. I wanted Daisy to be married to someone like Hank.

  I asked, “Well, how does that work, with Daisy being one of the clan?”

  “Daisy’s a new addition, she’s only been around the last few weeks.”

  I gasped at this piece of news. It was almost as unbelievable as knowing her husband was a crime lord.

  “But, I thought you’d all known her for ages.”

  “She took to watchin’ out for Jet when she had her problems and she stuck. Marcus isn’t a part of it and somehow it works.”

  Boy, these people were nuts.

  “What’s the deal with Marcus and Eddie?” I asked.

  “Eddie wants Marcus in prison and has been workin’ to make that happen for a long time. Marcus doesn’t want to go to prison. They hate each other.”

  That did not sound good.

  “I don’t see this working for long,” I said. “What happens when Eddie puts Marcus in jail?”

  “Daisy knows the score, so does Marcus. It’s not your problem and it isn’t mine. When that happens, we’ll all deal.”

  For Hank, it was simple as that. There was something very cool about that.

  Even so.

  “I don’t think it’s that simple,” I told him.

  He sighed and turned to me (but, I noted, he still didn’t touch me). “Roxanne, I like Daisy, hard not to like her. But she’s made her choice. Something happens to Marcus, and she reaches out her hand to ‘the clan’ as you call it, I expect everyone will take hold.”

  “Including you?” I asked, needing to know the answer to that as much as I needed oxygen.

  “Includin’ me.”

  I felt something settle in me. It wasn’t in my belly, my heart or my mind. It was everywhere. It was in my soul.

  Hank got up and walked through the dark room and turned off Springsteen in the middle of “Jungleland”.

  He lay down beside me and again didn’t touch me.

  “Whisky?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Nothing.”

  I was stymied; I wanted Hank to touch me. I didn’t want to admit it but there it was.

  I’d never touched him. I had but I’d never made the first move.

  I lay there some more.

  Oh, fuck it. I thought and then rolled into him.

  My hands went to his chest and my lips went to his collarbone. His arm curled around my waist, Shamus got the hint, jumped off the bed and meandered out of the room.

  “Thought you were never gonna do that,” he muttered and I could swear he sounded relieved.

  I didn’t answer, I was busy, or at least my mouth was.

  I explored his collarbone and neck with my mouth and tongue then I kissed him. He let me taste him, even tease him, allowing me control of the kiss and it was heady stuff.

  Then I moved down, slowly, discovering his chest and abs with my hands, mouth, teeth and tongue. The whole time he stroked my hip, bottom and back, but otherwise, he didn’t touch me.

  I took my time, enjoying the feel and taste of him and his response, which consisted of the tightening of muscles, low groans (my favorites) and sometimes his fingers would bite into me if I did something he really liked.

  Then I dipped lower, taking him into my hand and then into my mouth.

  His hand slid into my hair.

  “Fuck,” he said low.

  I knew he liked what I was doing, I could tell and it turned me on, so much so I went gung ho, giving him all my best moves and making up new ones. All of a sudden his hand left my hair, both his hands went under my armpits and he yanked me up onto his body.

  Mmm, seemed it was time to get serious.

  I sat up, moving to the side, saying, “Let me take off –” but he pulled me back over him and pushed me up so I was straddling him. His hands went to my underwear and gave them a vicious tug. My hips jerked forward, the material tore and then my panties were gone.

  “Whisky,” I said, stunned that he just tore off my underwear (maybe he was part caveman, except a really good-looking one (and without all the hair)) but I had no time to process this. His hands were at my hips and he pushed down just as his hips lifted up and he slammed into me.

  It felt great, unbelievably great and I nearly lost track of what I was doing. I bit my lip, controlling my desire to let him take over and bent forward, kissing his neck under his ear and said, “Hank, please. This time let me.”

  Partly, I did this because I wanted to give him something but partly I did this because it was fucking well my turn.

  His grip loosened at my hips, which I took as his affirmative answer, and I started moving slowly, exploring his neck with my mouth all the while. When it was time to stop playing, when I knew we both wanted more, I pulled up but didn’t go down, thinking to give him a taste of his own medicine.

  In his ear I said, “I want my car back.”

  “Sunshine,” he groaned, his hands biting into me.

  “Promise me Hank.”

  He laid still and, just when I thought I had him where I wanted him, his hands tightened and he flipped me to my back and took over, pushing in deep and then grinding.

  “Whisky! It’s my turn!” I cried, wrapping my arms around him and lifting my hips into his.

  “Don’t use sex to manipulate,” he told me.

  I stared at him in the dark.

  “You do it all the time!” I said.

  “I’m good at it,” he quit grinding and started moving. I couldn’t help it, I moved with him. “And I don’t do it with anything that’s important.”

  I ignored his arrogance and the fact he was full of shit. The night before he’d used it to try to manipulate me into staying. If that wasn’t important, I didn’t know what was.

  I decided, instead, to go back to the matter at hand, or at least one of the matters at hand. “I want my car back,” I demanded but it came out kind of breathy.

  “Quiet,” he returned.

  “I want my car back,” I repeated.

  He kissed me, I went dizzy. He kept my mouth busy so I wouldn’t talk and my body busy so, after awhile, I couldn’t talk.

  Then, I felt it. I twisted my head and tensed, breathing into his ear, “Whisky, I’m going to…” I didn’t finish. He lifted my legs with his hands behind my knees and pounded into me and I lost the ability to speak.

  When he was done, he rolled to the side, then to his back, taking me with him. I lay on top of him for a while, my head on the pillow next to his, my forehead pressed to his jaw.

  Finally I said, “That wasn’t fair.”

  “The first time you touch me, it’s so you can ask me for your car so you can leave me. I didn’t feel much like playin’ fair.”

  “Hank.”

  He interrupted me. “You were callin’ me Whisky a few minutes ago when you intended to make me do what you wanted by takin’ me in your mouth.”

  I realized then that he was angry and I came up on my elbows.

  “Are you angry?” I aske
d, even though I knew he was.

  “You are ‘She’s the One’.”

  I gasped.

  “I am not ‘She’s the One’,” I snapped.

  “You’re completely ‘She’s the One’.”

  “Am not!” I shouted.

  “Please tell me we aren’t havin’ this ridiculous conversation,” he said, sounding exasperated.

  “You started it,” I returned.

  “I see. We are having this ridiculous conversation.”

  I made a strangled noise.

  He rolled me onto my back and then his weight moved and he reached over me, switching on the light. Then he settled on his side, towering over me and looked at me.

  Before he could say anything I said, “I want my car.”

  “You aren’t leavin’,” he replied.

  “No. I’m not. I just want my car.”

  “Then you aren’t gettin’ it until I know you won’t do anything stupid, like leave.”

  I scowled at him. “I said I wouldn’t leave, I won’t leave.”

  “I hate to say this Sunshine, but I don’t trust you. You think alligators are cute and you got friends who’ll drop everything to drive across country to bring you your stuff and that’s because you got a heart bigger than the state of Colorado and what happened today flipped you out. Not, I’m guessin’, what happened to you but what happened to Daisy while she was with you. I give you back your car and you’re gone.”

  He was so right.

  I hated that.

  “It’s my car.”

  “You’re my woman and I don’t want you off on your own with Flynn and God knows who lookin’ for you.”

  My body froze.

  “Billy?”

  Hank stared at me and I knew he’d said more than he intended.

  Then he muttered, “Fuck.”

  I felt fear steal through me.

  “Hank, talk to me,” I whispered.

  His thigh moved over mine and he pinned me to the bed.

  “Roxanne, you’re safe. No one’s gonna harm you,” he said.

  “Talk to me,” I said, louder and slightly more hysterical this time.

  He sighed. “Got word before I came into the bedroom. Jimmy got one of those boys to talk. Flynn got away from them.”

  Good God.

  My body jerked and Hank’s arm went around me, pulling me into him.

  “No one’s gonna harm you,” he repeated.

  “Hank, he knows where you live. I have to get out of here.”

  “Roxanne, listen to me.”

  I started squirming, totally panicked, trying to escape.

  “Roxanne, dammit,” he swore, but I didn’t quit struggling.

  He dropped to his side and rolled me into him, wrapping his arms around me, pinning mine to my body and he tossed a heavy thigh over mine. He was so strong, resistance was futile so I stilled.

  “He hurt me,” I told Hank’s neck.

  “I know.”

  “He’ll do it again.”

  “No he won’t.”

  I lay there breathing heavily more from anxiety than my struggles.

  “I’m scared,” I admitted and it took everything I had left to do it.

  Hank’s arms and leg tightened. “I know.”

  After a few minutes of internal struggle, I relaxed into him and he let go, reached out and turned off the light. Then he fell to his back, me partially on top, partially in his side, keeping one arm around me.

  I tried to keep my mind quiet. Luckily I was exhausted so it worked. I’d think about it tomorrow. Or not at all. I was thinking not at all sounded good.

  “I’m not your woman,” I said, drowsy.

  “You are,” he returned.

  Jeez.

  There really was no shaking this guy.

  “I’ll die. I’ll go with Billy. I’ll do whatever so no one gets hurt,” I promised.

  “It won’t come to that,” he gave me a promise in return

  “I want my car,” I went on, stubborn.

  “We’ll talk about it tomorrow night.”

  “I’m going to be at the Haunted House tomorrow night.”

  I heard his head move on the pillow, probably he was shaking it because he thought I was a total idiot.

  “You’re a nut.”

  Okay, he was shaking it because he thought I was a nut.

  “No I’m not,” I said.

  He didn’t answer.

  I lay there for a long while. I felt the tension leave his body, his hand now relaxed on my hip and I figured he was asleep.

  “I didn’t start touching you to get something out of it, I did it because I wanted to,” I told his sleeping self.

  “That’s good to know,” he replied, his voice low and sounding tired but definitely not asleep.

  I jerked up on my elbow. “I thought you were asleep!”

  “Nope.”

  Shit.

  I settled back down.

  “I really do think you’re a jerk,” I said, though even I could tell I didn’t mean one word of it.

  “For not being asleep?” Now he sounded both tired and amused.

  “Well… yeah.”

  “I wasn’t asleep when you sang ‘Because the Night’ either.”

  Holy cow.

  I jerked up on my elbow again. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”

  “Nope,” he said again.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  I rolled away, he rolled with me, caught me around the waist and pulled me back into his body.

  “Now, I have to leave,” I said.

  “Why?”

  “It’s embarrassing. My singing sucks.”

  “It sounded good to me.”

  “That’s because you like me.”

  He kissed my neck.

  Then he settled behind me and said, “Yeah.”

  Chapter 15

  My Day with the Boys

  I heard Hank’s phone ringing, he muttered an oath and leaned over me to pick up his cell from the nightstand.

  “Yeah?” he answered, his voice husky with sleep.

  My eyes flickered open, it was still really dark.

  My eyes shut again and I curled into Hank. Shamus pressed into my back.

  “Where?” Hank asked.

  He seemed resigned, not tense. Since he wasn’t tense, I figured my world was not about to come crashing down so I didn’t get tense.

  Then he said, “Got to take care of somethin’ at home, then I’ll be there.” Another pause, then, “Yeah.”

  Then I heard the beep of him disconnecting the call.

  “Whisky?” I whispered.

  There were more beeps. Hank was making a call.

  “Just a minute, sweetheart,” he answered then he talked into the phone. “Jack? Hank. I need to go out and I need protection for Roxie.”

  He stopped talking. I got up on my elbow and pulled my hair out of my face. Shamus gave an enormous doggie groan of protest.

  “Fuck,” Hank said then paused. “Yeah. I’ll take her there. Twenty minutes, tops.”

  Another beep as he disconnected.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, looking at his shadow in the darkness.

  He moved, the light came on and I blinked. Shamus jerked to his belly and surveyed the scene, preparing for all doggie possibilities open to him; early walk, early breakfast or some sort of pets and cuddles.

  “There’s been a homicide and it’s connected to a case I’m on,” Hank told me. “I’ve got to go to the scene. I need to take you to Lee’s offices. You can go back to sleep there. I’ll pick you up later.”

  I blinked again, but not because the light burned my eyes.

  Lee’s offices?

  No way in hell.

  “I can go to Uncle Tex’s,” I suggested.

  He shook his head, pulled away, got out of bed and walked to the dresser.

  “Please don’t argue, I want to be sure you’re safe and Lee’s boys can keep you safe. Get some stuff together. A chan
ge of clothes, whatever you need for the morning. We have to leave now.”

  Was he serious?

  “Now” wasn’t an option for me. He knew I was high maintenance. He’d said twenty minutes, some of that was travel time. I needed to choose an outfit, I needed hair stuff, body stuff, makeup. I needed twenty minutes just for the outfit.

  “Now?” I asked.

  He pulled on some white boxer shorts, came back to the bed and tugged me out of it.

  When he was standing in front of me, he bent and kissed my nose.

  “Now,” he answered.

  Shit.

  * * * * *

  Hank carried his workout bag that he’d emptied for me to pack and held my hand as we walked up some steps to some offices. I had the handle of Shamus’s leash in my other hand.

  Shamus was beside himself with glee, his doggie body trembling with it. He was on an adventure.

  I was beside myself with despair. I couldn’t be left alone without protection.

  I’d come without a fight mainly because I’d caused enough worry and mayhem. I didn’t need to have a big argument with Hank when he needed to go to work. Furthermore, he was right. Uncle Tex was huge and tough but Lee’s boys could be commissioned to keep the Pope safe.

  Not to mention, Hank had said “please”.

  We walked into some offices. The lights were out in the room we entered, but there was an inside door open, a light from the hallway there lit the space and I could tell it was a reception area.

  Hank and I walked down the hall, it had several doors leading off of it.

  A man came out of a room halfway down the hall, but stood in the open doorway. He was built like a truck but perhaps slightly more solid.

  “Safe room’s open and ready,” he said to Hank then his eyes came to me briefly, then he went back into the room and the door closed behind him.

  Not much of a welcome.

  Hank took me toward the end of the hall and into a room. It was sparsely furnished and not decorated. A double bed, a reclining chair, a TV and a bookshelf full of books and DVDs. Another door led off of it.

  I let go of Shamus’s lead and he got busy exploring his new space.

  Hank dumped the bag in the chair.

  “Sleep,” he said after he turned to me. “I’ll be back before you wake up.”

  “Okay,” I replied. He was busy, he had things to do, important things that involved crime and justice. I reminded myself that now was not the time to cause a fuss.