Rock Chick 05 Revenge (36 page)

I looked behind me, grabbing for the phone, but Luke wasn’t there. So I slowly lifted up and, eyes peering over the counter, I saw him and I froze. He was standing a few feet inside the front door facing Jules, body close to hers.
 

Ultra close.

He had his hand up to her jaw, like he had with me just hours before, thumb stroking her cheekbone. Worse, his face wasn’t semi-soft, still-hard. It was all-soft, totally soft in a way I’d never seen him look before
in my life
.

He was smiling at her, his eyes warm.
Ultra
warm.

He hadn’t called me “babe”. He didn’t even know I was there.

He’d called Jules “babe”.

What’s THAT all about?
Bad Ava demanded.

Don’t jump to conclusions,
Good Ava warned.

I jerked back down to all fours and started breathing deep, feeling bad feelings in fact, the worst feelings
ever
.

Shit.

Shit, shit,
shit!

I heard Ren’s voice coming from my phone on the floor. I grabbed it, flipped it shut and my mind screamed,
escape!

I listened to my mind thinking, at that point, it knew what the hell it was talking about.

I started motoring, cell in my hand, scrambling on all fours, sliding on bouncy balls and pens as I went, crawling down the side aisle of books that ran the length of the store perpendicular to the eight rows of fiction. I got to row four when I saw movement at my side. I stopped and my head whipped around.

Jet and Eddie were making out in the M-N-O section. Eddie had Jet pressed against the books, one of his arms around her, hand under her shirt, the other hand up on the shelves by her head. It looked like they were two minutes away from bookshelf sex.

They broke off kissing but didn’t move away from each other and both of their gazes swung to me on all fours on the floor. Jet’s mouth dropped open. Eddie’s brows went up.

“Erm… sorry,” I mumbled, gained my feet and ran through the front section into the middle section where there were more books and a big table topped with dozens of milk cartons filled with old vinyl, through that room and to the back room which was more books.

I went to a corner (Women’s Studies) and started hyperventilating.

Get out of here, now!
Bad Ava screeched.

Go talk to Luke!
Good Ava cried.

I didn’t listen to either of them.

All I could think was that I knew Jules and Luke were close. I could tell by the way she talked about him and the way he talked about her. I thought about the pain that moved through his face when he thought of seeing her bleeding on the floor and I didn’t get it at the time.
 

Now I got it.

I’d never seen that in Luke, that vulnerability, not outside of what little he showed whenever I was around him after he was in a rip roarin’ with his Dad. Never for one of his girlfriends, never for anyone, not even me.

He’d never looked at me with a full on soft look, not when my Dad left, not when he saw one of my sisters be bitchy to me, not even when he was inside me.

I leaned against the bookshelves.

He was in love with her. He would, of course, be in love with her. She looked like a movie star. And I was just Fatty, Fatty Four-Eyes, the girl across the street holding onto a screaming crush.

Okay, so I wasn’t really Fatty, Fatty Four-Eyes anymore, but… I
was
.

Worse, I always would be.

My phone rang in my hand and I jumped. The display said “Ren calling”.

I flipped it open and put it at my ear. “Hey,” I said breathlessly.

“What the fuck?” Ren clipped into my ear. “Are you okay?”

No!
I thought.

“Yeah,” I said but that one word didn’t even convince me.

“Ava –”
 

I closed my eyes and blurted in a whisper, “I need to get out of here.”
 

“Where are you?” Ren asked, now he was sounding concerned.

“Fortnum’s.”

“Where’s Santo?”

“I don’t know.”

“Fuck,” he snapped. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be there in ten.”

“No! Ren, no.”

Santo walked into the back room, his head swung around and his eyes caught mine. Then he walked to me.

“Santo’s right here,” I told Ren.

“Come to me,” Ren ordered.

“What?” I asked.

“Have Santo bring you to me.”
 

My heart stuttered. “Ren –”

“Do it. I’ll be waiting.”

Disconnect.

I stared at Santo, my mind racing, my heart beating so strong I thought it’d jump out of my chest. That was my only thought. My mind didn’t have the capacity to process any more.

Then Santo’s phone rang, he flipped it open, listened for five seconds and said, “Right,” he flipped it shut and looked back to me. “We’re going to Ren,” he said firmly.

I just kept staring at him. Then, I didn’t know why, I nodded my head.

We walked through the books, the vinyl and down the center aisle of the front room. Luke was walking toward us. His eyes were warm when they caught mine then, immediately, they went on alert. I looked away as I approached him and went to move by him. He caught my upper arm, I came up short and lifted my eyes to his.

“What’s happening?” he asked, brows drawn.

“I have to be somewhere,” I told him.

His gaze moved from me to Santo and I pulled my arm from his hand and kept walking (albeit a lot faster), Santo following.

I was at the passenger door to the Volvo when I heard the scuffle. I turned and saw Luke holding Santo back with a hand at his chest. He gave a shove, barely a movement of his arm but Santo fell back several paces. Luke turned to me and advanced, pinning me against the Volvo.

“What’s goin’ on?” he asked, his voice low and lethal.

“Nothing, Luke. I have to be somewhere. I’ll see you later at the loft,” I replied, my voice small, my eyes skidding away from his.

I tried to slide away but he got even closer, his hand went to my jaw, his thumb splayed on my cheekbone and I looked at him.

“Babe,” he murmured, eyes warm on mine.

At that word pain sliced through me. Against my will and to my total mortification, I felt tears well in my eyes. He saw them and got ultra close. His face softened but not completely. Not even close.

And that hurt even more.

“Talk to me,” he whispered in his gentle, affectionate voice.

I jerked my face from his hand, slid out from in front of him and quickly got in the car.

Santo jumped behind the wheel and we took off.

I didn’t look back.

* * * * *

Ren’s offices were a lot like Lee Nightingale’s except the wood was darker and instead of a cowboy motif there was a lot of fancy glass and modern art.

Also he didn’t have a black lady receptionist with a huge Afro and a messy desk. He had an ultra gorgeous blonde receptionist with an obsessively tidy desk.

Her head snapped up when she saw us enter and her eyes narrowed on me in immediate and unconcealed hate which I thought was kind of weird. Considering the fact that I was freaking out, I didn’t have time to confront a bitchy receptionist.

“Ren’s expecting you,” she told Santo and she didn’t sound pleased about it.

“Yeah, Dawn, I know,” Santo muttered, sounding like he thought she was a bitch too and leading me into an open doorway and down a hall. Santo stopped and so did I. He knocked on a door and when we heard Ren calling us in he opened it.

Ren was already moving around his desk. His office was huge and his desk was not obsessively tidy. It was covered with papers and files in a way that it looked like he was really busy.

I walked in with Santo, saw Ren give a jerk of the chin and without a word Santo took off.

Ren stopped in front of me, put his hand to my neck, tilting my chin up with a gentle thumb in the soft spot between my jaws and looked in my eyes.

“Jesus, Ava,” he murmured and I knew at his words that I was clearly not hiding my emotional freak out which was kind of a bummer.

I stared at him then started blabbing. “I need quiet space. I need to be alone. No bodyguards. No tough guys. No imminent threat of kidnapping and car bombs. I need to think. I need to get my head together. I haven’t been alone for days. I need to be alone.” Before I could stop myself, I leaned into him and put my hand on his (it must be said, rock-hard) abs. “Ren, please, can you arrange that for me?”

He watched me for a beat, his eyes scanning my face. Then he said softly, “Yeah, honey, I can arrange that for you.”

I sagged into him.

“Let’s go,” he finished.

I felt relief flood through me, so much, I didn’t notice he took my hand and held it as we walked out of his office, down the hall, through the reception area, to the parking garage and to his Jag (I did, however, notice Dawn glaring at me).

We drove through downtown where his offices were and I stared wordlessly out the window. My phone rang, I looked at it, saw it said “Luke calling” and flipped it open.

Then I flipped it shut, open again and turned it off.

I knew Ren watched this and I didn’t care. I was beyond caring, about a lot of things.

He took me to a house in Cheesman Park, a big, old, graceful one. He expertly parallel parked in front (and I had to admit, I was impressed, I could never parallel park) and walked me to the door. Inside it was a big, house-wide front room, side dining room to the back and left, kitchen on the other side, behind a wall, lots of windows with some stained glass. A split, sunny staircase in the middle where Ren led me up and to a bedroom.

Ho-ly crap.

I halted and turned to him. “Ren –” I started.

He gave me a gentle shove inside but took a step back, hand at the doorknob. “If you need anything, call,” he said.

Then he left, closing the door behind him. I stared at the door then turned and looked at the room.

More big windows, hardwood floors, dark wood furniture with a big bed, four high, spiked posts, wine-colored sheets and comforter.

I sighed. Nothing for it.

I threw myself on the bed, bounced a couple of times and curled into a ball.

You’re just latching onto this to protect yourself,
Good Ava accused in my ear.

Yippee! We’re in Ren’s bed!
Bad Ava yelled.

You need to talk to Luke,
Good Ava advised.

You need to touch yourself in Ren’s bed. Mm, yum,
Bad Ava advised.

Good Ava glared around my neck at Bad Ava.
Stop talking about Ren!

Bad Ava glared back.
Ren called us “honey”, we’ve been around Ren with LOTS of other women. He’s never called ANY of them “honey” like he did to us.

Good Ava had no comment because Bad Ava was right.

I closed my eyes tight and decided instead of sorting through my rampaging thoughts, I was going to try to think nothing at all.

That didn’t work so I started to sort through my rampaging thoughts.

In the end, I realized I had two choices. Be sloppy seconds to Jules for as long as it lasted and who knew how long it would last. Jules was with Vance,
very
with him, no way Luke was going to get in there. He might need sloppy seconds for a good, long while if his sexual appetite last night was anything to go by. Or I could get the hell out and fast.

Since I couldn’t get the hell out and fast, (which was my preferred choice) considering my life was totally fucked up and Luke had made it clear he wasn’t done with me, I’d have to take the first.

At least until I got my sextuple revenge against Dominic Dickhead. Then I was off to Jamaica for the longest vacation in history.

On that unhappy thought, I slipped into a wee nap.

I woke up when the bed moved. I saw a thigh and looked up. Ren was sitting on the bed looking down at me.
His
face was totally soft
and
gentle.

Wow.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said quietly.

I got up on an elbow. “That’s okay,” I said, my voice still sleepy. “What time is it?”

“After five. You hungry?”

I had missed lunch. I still wasn’t hungry.

“Yeah,” I lied.

He took my hand, helped me out of his bed and we went downstairs. Ren made spaghetti while I watched and drank red wine. Considering I was coasting on the dregs of morning toast (with unmelted butter), the red wine hit my head like a shot.

Therefore by the time we sat down at his dining room table with bowls of (delicious, it must be said, Ren could cook) spaghetti, I had had two glasses of wine and was working on my third. I wasn’t quite drunk but I was in a talkative mood.