Rock Chick 04 Renegade (58 page)

Of course I had to suck my meal through a straw and eventual y the nurses had to come around and tel them they had to go but stil , it was fun.

* * * * *

Sixth, Martin and Curtis had come to visit me.

The whole time they were there, they didn’t cuss either.

Instead they told me why they were on the street. I’d been working with them for months and I had to get shot for them to open up to me.

I didn’t complain.

Instead, once they left, I cal ed Shirleen and we had a chat.

Then I cal ed Andy and told him Martin and Curtis were ready for a reunion with their Mom. She had a new boyfriend they didn’t like. They had reason not to like him, a real y fucking good reason, and Andy knew what to do.

Martin and Curtis’s Mom either dumped a boyfriend that was abusive to her boys or her boys were moving in with Shirleen.

Their Mom dumped her boyfriend.

Then she pressed charges.

With what he did, her ex wouldn’t have much fun in prison.

* * * * *

They released me after a few weeks and I went to Vance’s cabin.

Vance and I bickered about this. Nick and I bickered about it too. They didn’t want me sleeping on my couch nor climbing up to the bed platform.

They ganged up on me. It was clear they had made the decision without my input before I was released and I had no choice. This I found alarming as it might not bode wel for my future.

My head crackin’ mamma jamma was stil with me, however my strength had leaked out onto the floor of Sal Cordova’s living room and it was going to take a little while longer for me to get fighting fit.

So I gave in.

Vance took me to his place, driving a new, black, GMC

Sierra that Al y told me that Indy told her that Lee told
her
that Vance bought because he didn’t want me riding around in his rickety old truck and I was certainly in no shape to ride on the Harley.

Daisy and Roxie had packed up a bunch of my clothes and Nick had packed up Boo, his litter, food, treats and toys and Nick took my cat and stuff Vance’s cabin.

Unfortunately for Vance and Nick (it was fortunately for me, I thought it was hilarious), the cabin wasn’t nearly as restful as they thought it would be namely because everyone came with great regularity, and stayed for great lengths of time. Tod and Stevie set up an ongoing Yahtzee tournament that lasted for weeks (Jet won). Heavy even brought a punching bag there, set it up in Vance’s second bedroom and when I was up and around he sat eating Ding Dongs and Oreos and other chocolate-flavored snacks with dubious cream-like fil ing and dril ed me relentlessly.

* * * * *

Vance worked through my recovery, though Lee never assigned him to anything that would take him out of town.

He also was never given night shifts in the surveil ance room. This meant Vance was home by eight o’clock, usual y earlier, every night.

* * * * *

In late December, close to Christmas when I was stil recovering but getting stronger al the time, I stood in Vance’s bathroom, wearing nothing but lacy, pink hipsters and staring into the mirror at my red, ugly, puckering, very,
very
slowly fading scars.

They would fade but they’d never go away and they were not at al attractive.

I put on a t-shirt of Vance’s. I’d not worn a sexy nightie since getting shot, the bodice of al of the ones I had showed the scar. I knew this because I tried them al on and checked. Then I walked to the bedroom.

Vance was lying in bed, chest bare, sheet to his waist, naked under the sheet (I knew this because Vance slept naked not that I’d acquired x-ray vision during my recent trauma). He was reading.

Boo was on his bel y, eyes closed but his was head up.

I rounded the bed, flicked back the covers and lay down, pul ing the covers up to my neck.

It was safe to say that multiple gunshot wounds put a serious crimp in your sex life. A crimp I wasn’t al fired up to iron out.

In fact, I didn’t think I ever wanted Vance to see me naked again.

“I think we should break up,” I blurted to the ceiling and then closed my eyes tight when I felt his mood change and fil the room with dangerous white-hot electricity.

“Sorry?” he asked.

I opened my eyes and looked at him. I shouldn’t have. He was looking at me, his brows were knit and his eyes were narrowed and I’d learned that was not a good combo with Vance.

“I think we should break up,” I told him.

“Jesus, you’re a pain in the ass,” he muttered and went back to his book.

“Seriously, Vance.”

“Shut up, Jules,” he said without taking his eyes from his book.

I rol ed to my side, reached out and pushed his book down. His eyes cut to me and with one look in them I rethought my actions but it was too late.

“Crowe –” I started but Vance turned, Boo flew off his bel y and he put his book to the nightstand. Then he came back to me and rol ed toward me, arm going around my waist, he pul ed me to him. He did this gently, how he’d been touching me for weeks, but this time it had meaning.

“What’s in that fucking head of yours?” he asked when we were lying side-by-side, face-to-face, our bodies touching.

“I… you… wel …” I stopped then started again, “it’s pretty clear you’re the kind of guy who has to have sex, um… a lot of it and, um… we can’t have sex anymore.”

“Why can’t we have sex anymore?”

“Wel ,” I started and halted. Did I real y have to explain it?

I looked at him. He was glaring at me.

I guessed I did.

“I’m kind of gross,” I finished.

“Gross?”

“Yes, gross.”

“How are you gross?”

Now I was getting pissed. “I can’t believe you’re gonna make me spel it out for you,” I snapped.

His hand moved, it went down over my hip then up under my shirt then both his arms wrapped around me. “He could have blown off half your face, you survived, you’d stil be lyin’ beside me.”

I blinked.

He didn’t pause for me to wrap my head around that mind-blowing statement, he went on. “One of those bul ets could have torn through your spinal cord, you’d be lyin’

beside me.”

Oh my God.

His arms got tighter, pressing my body against his and his face came super-close. “This is it. You and me. No matter what,” he said.

“Crowe –” I whispered, so stunned, so moved, I thought my heart had to have stopped beating.

“No matter what,” he said, his voice fierce and strong and rumbling through me. “You told me I was home to you and I get it. You’re home to me. I’ve never had a home. I like the one I found and I’m not losin’ it. No matter what.” I couldn’t help it. I didn’t want to but I started crying. It wasn’t the wracking-loud-sobs kind of crying, it was the tears-fil ing-your-eyes-and-spil ing-over-silently kind

of

crying.

He watched me cry and didn’t say a word, he just held me close.

“You… you said…” I stammered, “if I ever changed my body –”

“Show me,” he murmured, his voice and eyes had grown soft.

I stopped crying immediately and said, “What?”

“Show me, Princess.”

I stared at him for what seemed like ages knowing exactly what he meant.

His mouth came to mine and he said again, “Show me.” I sucked in a breath in an attempt to buy time to decide if I had the courage to show him. Then, deciding I did, in fact I had to, I pul ed away and he let me go. He pushed down the covers, I pul ed up the t-shirt and I closed my eyes.

I opened them again when I felt his mouth on me.

It moved, touching my scars gently, his hands roaming my sides, hips and then he pushed me on my back.

Then he came up, kissing the scar at my chest then he moved his mouth to my breasts, spending a lot more time there, first at one then the other. It felt great and I total y forgot how gross I was.

Then his mouth went lower. Then lower. Then he rol ed between my legs and his mouth was there.

That’s when I
really
total y forgot how gross I was.

After awhile he pul ed off my panties and made me come with his mouth.

It was fucking fantastic.

He rol ed to his back, I got on top of him and wrapped my hand around him.

“Jules, you don’t –” he started but I leaned down and kissed him quiet.

Then I guided him inside me and moved on top of him. I took my time mainly because I’d just had an orgasm so I had al the time in the world, not to mention it felt real y good.

Vance wasn’t real y into slow though. I figured he’d taken care of himself somewhere along the way but maybe I was wrong. He got impatient and sat up, his hands at my hips coaxing me to go faster. They slid up my sides and his eyes locked on mine.

“I wanna take off your shirt,” he said, his voice hoarse.

I shook my head.

He kissed me deep and hard.

Then he repeated, “I wanna take off your shirt.” I was a bit muddled from the kiss so I said, “Okay.” Gently, he pul ed the t-shirt over my head.

His mouth was at my chest, my scar, my breasts, his hands pressing in to make me arch my back and expose myself to him. I moved faster, faster and he tipped his head back. His fingers slid into my hair, tilting my face down to his and he kissed me right before he came.

I guess he wasn’t grossed out by my body.

* * * * *

We had Christmas at Nick’s, just Vance, Nick and me.

I gave Nick tickets to an upcoming Springsteen concert. I gave Vance this kickass choker with a thick, braided leather band and two smal , silver medal ions at the front, one of an eagle and one of a buffalo. He tied it on and usual y I didn’t like jewelry on guys but that leather and silver on him looked hot.

Nick stole my bracelet while I was recovering and had three more links put in. One with an emerald, for Nick which days later I found out signifies goodness, fidelity and love; one with a blue topaz, for me which signifies sincerity, courage and wisdom (and when I read this out to Vance and Nick, Nick said, “Don’t know about that last one,” a comment which Vance thought was so funny, he threw back his head and laughed, which meant I had to try and tackle him but he just caught me, swung me up in his arms and kept right on laughing, his face buried in my neck); and also one with a pearl, for Vance which signifies nobility, beauty and peace.

How’s that for perfect?

Of course I burst into sloppy tears when I opened it, which pissed me off because I seemed to be crying al the time those days but Vance pul ed me into his lap and held me until I was done crying, which, head crackin’ mamma jamma that I was, I stil had to admit was super nice.

Zip dropped a gift by Nick’s. It was gun holster with a note attached that said “Just in case’. I laughed my ass off.

Vance and Nick didn’t think this was funny (at al ).

We had Christmas dinner at my place because I had a better dining room table.

I cooked dinner while Nick looked worried and Vance looked amused mainly because I banged around and cursed a lot through this process.

I’d been practicing cooking at Vance’s cabin while I was recovering and wasn’t doing too badly. However the Christmas pork tenderloin somehow ended up kinda raw. I swore to both of them it was
not
my fault, it had to be my stupid oven. Then Nick asked me what temperature I cooked it on and I said, “One fifty, like it says in the cookbook.”

Nick got the cookbook and showed me it said
three
fifty which I guess proved it wasn’t the oven.

Vance, for your information, stayed silent through this exchange however he wore his shit-eating grin the entire time.

Luckily, Nick cooked a backup pork tenderloin (just in case) so al was saved.

Vance gave me my present later in bed when nothing but the moonlight was shining down on us. It was an ultra-wide, hammered, silver ring that went al the way up to my knuckle. It was
gorgeous
.

I put it on my right ring finger and Vance took it off and put it on my left but not before kissing my finger and looking at me with that “mine” expression on his face.

I could see it, even in the moonlight.

What was more, I could feel it.

Since then, I’ve never taken that ring off.

* * * * *

The week between Christmas and New Year’s was busy because I was going back to work after New Year’s and Vance and I had a lot to do, considering we were splitting houses.

He brought a bunch of his stuff to my house and I moved some of my stuff back but left a lot of it at the cabin.

We doubled up on kitty paraphernalia so Boo could go back and forth with us (Boo liked riding in the Sierra, by the way, crazy cat) without us carting around litter boxes and kitty bowls.

I bought Vance some bookshelves for his cabin. He bought me a stereo so I could listen to music there. He also put in decent locks so no one would steal the stereo which I thought was a smart move.

He gave me a key.

* * * * *

L e e
was
recruiting new Nightingale Investigations Men not to mention a new receptionist and he hit the jackpot that week before New Year’s.

Darius, final y disentangled from the drug trade, went to work for Lee. Word on the street, Vance told me, this was not a popular move. Though I don’t think anyone at Nightingale Investigations ever cared if something was popular.

Hector, who miraculously didn’t blow his cover, ended his long investigation by getting his man. After that, for reasons only known to Hector (and I knew this for certain because Indy tried naked gratitude on Lee, like, seven times, and got nothing), he quit the DEA and went to work for Lee.