Motown Throwdown (2 page)

“It’s a scalpel thank you very much and it’s self-explanatory.”

“Why the fuck do you even have a scalpel?”

“How about you just shut up and help me hide the bodies.”

“They’re not dead,” he said looking at me like I’m an idiot.

“Had you stayed inside they would have been.”

I hadn’t spoken to him in ten years. The last time I tried, he managed to reduce me to tears and a lifetime of doubt. Some people never changed I supposed but the thing was, I
had
changed. I wasn’t that girl crying behind the frat house anymore. I was a God damn medical doctor with degrees and everything! So when he ordered me to leave, I refused, staying put to wait for the police with him. This was my problem not his and I wanted to make sure he didn’t violate his probation. His job was inside of the building not outside of it and I knew he had intervened for me although I couldn’t figure out why. That was Roman for you, say one thing and do another. Funny how even with ten years without him I hadn’t forgotten that. Also funny how he was and still is the only person I have ever allowed the power to hurt me repeatedly. He was also the only person who ever got me too, which made it impossible to hate him. He was a double-edged sword that even after all these years I knew would slice me, I still wanted to play with anyway.

Anyone who knew Roman’s tragic story knew he was fresh out of prison. Leaving him would have been wrong after he not only defended me but quite possibly violated his probation. Jules Allen, the head of security, my friend and the owner, Max’s wife, came out directly after ordering Roman back inside. With one nod he followed her order because when Jules spoke, you obeyed. Well other people did, I didn’t work for her.

“Kandy Kane,” she said just before the police arrived, “Are you hurt?”

“No,” I told her searching the shadows for Roman, “I’m not hurt. It would take more than these two and you know it.”

“What will you tell the police?” she asked giving me that smile. The one that says she had my back.

“That these two crackheads tried to roll me and I kicked their asses.”

“Great answer,” she said on a laugh. “I’ll wait with you until it’s over, alright?”

“I won’t drop his name if that’s what you’re worried about.” I told her bluntly. The man may have starred in my fantasies ten years ago but I would never let him lose his hard-earned freedom over this shit. Back then my presence embarrassed him and I wouldn’t be surprised if it still did today.

“So you know about his situation?”

“We went to school together,” I explained giving nothing away. “I was his---, I mean, I was a fan of his.”

“He’s trying hard to start over,” she said while keeping an eye on the two jackasses on the ground. “It hasn’t been easy for him.”

“I can’t imagine it has been. He’s a good man, Jules, I don’t know him well but I do know that.” After lying, because I had no idea if he was good or not, I touched my nose hoping it hadn’t grown. It hadn’t, so I focused on getting out of here quickly.

“He enjoys watching you sing,” she said smiling. “I think you may have a fan yourself.”

“I’m pretty sure he only watches out of boredom,” Jules doesn’t know old Roman, she knows rehabilitated Roman. The Roman I remember was a self-righteous dick that I wasted a year and my heart on.

Hauling the two men up and stuffing them in the car first they came back to ask questions second. Clearly Jules was a pro at this and totally streamlined the process for me. Thanking her and the police for actually showing, I headed home knowing I wouldn’t be back.

I was big into routine and this back alley brawl just fucked that routine right up. I needed to face the truth and the truth was Roman didn’t want a reunion with me. Also I didn’t have the balls to remind him that I’d always been there, that he was the first, the only, to break my heart. That despite our rocky past, I always waited.

For the guy who didn’t want me.

“Here,” I say tossing her a t-shirt. Acting like it was no big deal, that I had hundreds of them taking up space I tossed it at her like it annoyed me. “I’m your tutor,” she says holding it up. “If you want your laundry done that’ll cost extra.”

“I’ve got plenty of females in line to wash my drawers, for free.” I offer stupidly. Every time we meet, I throw the notches in her face and I couldn’t figure out why I did it, but I did. “Then you may want to consider paying them in cash instead of cock because you are one big wrinkle.”

Blinking at her I wasn’t sure what shocked me more, her back talk or that cock came out of her mouth. She was always throwing me off my game and for a baller, game is who I was.

Working six nights a week was rough but it was better than a cell.

The only bright spot in the week is when she showed up on Thursdays to sing. The first night I spotted her I swear the earth stopped moving. When she saw me she stumbled up on the stage but righted herself and it took everything I had to stay put. She was still tall, still built thick and gorgeously pale. Her hair was longer now, a deeper brown but her eyes were still a soft green. Her fingers were so long and slim when they wrapped around the microphone, I still wanted to feel those fingers on my skin. She was the one who got away, the one you never forgot and the one you treated like shit because you were afraid of her. Back then I thought her voice, like her, was beautiful and now when she opened her mouth the entire club went silent, myself included. For three and half minutes every Thursday she would remind me of what we used to be, what I would never deserve and then she would leave.

No bullshit, she sang
to
me. I wasn’t hallucinating either, those eyes of hers would seek me out. When they landed on me it was just the two of us again, we were kids and I had her to myself. One song was never enough either, I wanted more time with her. Because for those few minutes all the bullshit in my life ceased, I wasn’t an ex-con and I still mattered.

To her.

Since the throwdown in the lot she hasn’t been back. We had a routine, I counted on it, lived for it. Every week I would listen to her sing then watch her leave from the front entrance making sure she was safe. So when those two dickbags made a grab for her, I lost my mind. No one touched her, no one. It was a matter of time before someone made a move on her and I watched to make sure it didn’t happen. Old habits were hard to break and the need to keep her safe had never left me. Giving no thought to my probation or the rules of the club, I only wanted one thing, pain, theirs. Jules said I fucked them up so bad it may take her some time to work it out in her head before she came back. Deep down I know my behavior disappointed her, it always did. I had a habit of fucking things up with that woman. You’d think not speaking to her for ten years I’d break the cycle and be polite but that would be too easy. I yelled at her when I saw her holding that scalpel. A fucking scalpel…. she was going to use to defend herself. But when I went back inside she didn’t look scared, she looked unfazed. That was the thing about her, nothing ever got to her. Not even me.

I’ve been trying to muster up the nerve to talk to Jules about it but still haven’t done it. They knew each other but I wasn’t tight enough with her to start asking questions. When she and Max hired me they made it clear I was there to work, not get laid. Ten years ago getting laid was what landed me in prison and I wasn’t looking for a random fuck even though I just got out. Pussy was attainable, that wasn’t the issue. The issue was my cock got hard for one woman, a woman that has every reason to hate me.

I needed this job, this fresh start and if it meant forgetting about her, so be it. Now I can add liar to my list of convictions too. Because she was, not now or ever would be a random anything to me.

In fact, all these years later she was still
everything
.

“Maybe she’ll show,” says Jules leaning against the door smirking at me. Damn but the woman had a lot of red hair. Max called her Blue because of her eyes but that flaming red hair was a sight to behold.

“Who?” Playing stupid seemed the safest route. I didn’t want to give away too much and Jules was chatty, maybe she’d spill.

“Cute,” she says rolling her eyes. “Kandace, you know the tall woman who looks like an angel but promises devil-like things when she sings. The one you keep hoping will come through that door. The one who knows who you are and promised your name wouldn’t be mentioned to the cops. You know,
her
.”

“Shit,” All these years though I knew her name, loved her name I never said it out loud. She always had power over me and I believed saying that person’s name magnified it, so out of fear I didn’t. Instead I called her everything but her name and most of it wasn’t nice. “What else did she say?”

“She said she went to school with you, she even said she’s a fan.”

“Do you think she’s scared of me?”

“Over the lot bullshit? Please. That didn’t faze her. Actually, I think she’s into you,” she says winking. “Kandace is a woman who knows what she wants Rome, trust me on that. We go way back, like a year even.”

“Pretty sure she isn’t coming back, Boss,” I point out, but dammit I wanted her to. I wanted to apologize, explain and hug her if she’d let me. “I don’t know where to find her either.”

“She’s a doctor over at Henry Ford but, you didn’t hear that from me. She values her privacy and I value the use of my mouth. She’s feisty.”

“A doctor? She did it then,” I mumble remembering how hard she worked at it. Kandace was the most focused person I’d ever met in my life. She finished everything she started and never complained. Hell, she even took the time to tutor a piece of shit like me.

“An ER doc at that. She’s great in a pinch, the girl can stitch, just ask anyone. Hell, she even gave Max a wicked cool lightning bolt when he sliced himself trying to cook.” She says proudly. That’s when an idea formed. It was stupid, it was reckless, but if I pulled it off it was genius. Honestly, it was the holy shit of ideas and Jules if anyone, would approve of it.

“If I asked you for a very violent favor what are the odds you’d do it?”

“Pretty good,” she says checking her nails. “But if for some reason I’m not able to do it, I know Venessa would.” Venessa is the clubs DJ and if any of what I heard about her is true, don’t look her in the eye and don’t let her man catch you looking at her at all. I don’t see Venessa or Jules like that and if Rogan Black is scary it’s because you haven’t met the club owner, Max Allen. Max is my height of six foot seven but he’s quiet and calculated. He’s also married to Jules, who until recently defended our country, the city and her friends, violently.

In Max’s office Jules brings Venessa in and tells her I need my ass kicked. Without even thinking it over she shrugs, and gives me a kidney shot. “My face,” I groan holding my side surprised a small woman can hit that hard. “Hit my face.”

“I can’t hit that face,” she says with pleading eyes. “Come on, Rome, that face should be preserved, yeah? I can’t hit it. I’ll go to hell if I hit it. I’m already toeing the line here.”

“We’re helping him get the girl, V,” Jules explains enjoying this. If I thought Venessa was blood thirsty she didn’t hold a candle to Jules. “We’ve got to make him bleed so he can get stitches.”

“That’s fucked up,” she says looking at me again like I’m insane. “You want your face beat in to meet a chick?”

“Yeah.”

“Who’s the chick?”

“Doc Kane,” Jules interrupts. “She hasn’t been back since the lot incident. Rome is getting desperate, he needs a hospital visit. Actually, I can’t believe I didn’t think of it myself.”

“Oh, well that changes things, I’ll rip your face off when you’re ready.”

“You know her too?”

“I make it a point to know everybody. The Doc is fucking amazing,” she says happily. She doesn’t smile a whole lot but when she does you never know what’s going to happen next. “She’s a good friend and it doesn’t hurt that she packs the place when she opens her mouth. That and she’s sneaky bad ass, yeah? I mean, damn. ”

Before I could ask what sneaky bad ass meant, Jules nods to Venessa, who gives me a quick wink, then does a spider monkey maneuver with her fist connecting with the skin above my eye splitting it wide open. When blood started to pour, I reached up and felt the gash. Like nothing ever happened, Venessa puts her ring back on the opposite finger and smiles in satisfaction. Rogan bought her a rock, a big one.

“Wow,” says Jules getting on her toes to look. “Nice work V, he’s really a bleeder.”

“I’m going to hell for this,” she says shaking her head looking at the damage.

“I’ll save you a seat,” I tell her with a smile. Walking out the front door to grab my car it takes me three tries to start it up. Anticipation takes over when I merge on to the freeway and nerves kick in when I park and make my way in through emergency.

Three times in my life I’ve felt nerves like this. The first being every time I was near her, the second when I was waiting to see if I would be picked up in the draft and the third when I was handed my sentence. None of those situations ever worked out well for me either.