Rock Chick 06 Reckoning (22 page)

“What are you talking about?”

“Lee doesn’t want me lookin’ into it, not that I would.”

“Looking into what?”

“How Mace learned his skil s.”

“What skil s?”

“The skil s he uses for Lee.”

“The skil s he uses for Lee.”

I blinked at him in confusion and my silent tears cleared.

“What?”

Eddie sighed then he stated, “He was a snowboarder, Jet. A good one, one of the best. If you go back seven years, look at boarder magazines, you’l see his photos in ads. He had endorsement contracts. He was in commercials aired on ESPN. Go back before that, same thing with his surfing. He was famous. He stil is in that crowd.”

“I knew he –” I started but Eddie interrupted me.

“Now he’s a PI.”

“Yes, I know but –”

“A good one.”

“I know, but –”

Eddie interrupted me again, “One of the best. Lee was trained by the Army. Monty was trained by the Navy. Luke, I don’t know but it was an official operation and he’s definitely had training, specialized training. Vance is an ex-con. He’d lived a life of crime since he was thirteen years old, would likely stil be in that life, he was so good at it. He only got caught because his buddy was shot while they were stealin’ a car and Vance didn’t leave him behind. Lee channeled his natural abilities, trainin’ him in other shit and he took to it. Mace is self-taught. Lee didn’t have to do any training with Mace.”

“Self-taught?”

“Self-taught.”

“What does that mean?”

“That means, between his sister gettin’ murdered and Lee recruitin’ him, he’d gone from a surfer and snowboarder to acquirin’ skil s that had nothin’ to do with sex wax.”

I blinked again. “Sex wax?”

“Yeah, you use it on your surfboard for foot traction, on the bottom of a snowboard to reduce friction.” My brows drew together. “How do you know that?” He grinned. “Been boardin’ with Mace.”

I blinked (yes, again), mainly because this was insane.

Eddie and I had been together for over nine months, we were getting married in a little over five and this was news to me.

“You board?”

His grin deepened to a smile. “I live in Colorado,
chiquita
.”

So did I but I didn’t snowboard or ski, for that matter, that took money, something I’d never had.

“You didn’t board last winter,” I commented.

“I had somethin’ to keep me at home last winter.” This time I didn’t blink but my stomach did a happy curl.

I ignored it and got back to the subject.

“So, these skil s –”

He rol ed into me so he was mostly on me. “What I’m sayin’ is, somethin’ went down after the bloodbath. Mace disappeared off radar. No more competitive boardin’, reneged on his endorsements. The kidnapping and murder made the news, big story. It happened in LA. Mace was famous, his Dad wel -known. But, after it was over, there was nothin’ from Mace. He vanished. He didn’t resurface was nothin’ from Mace. He vanished. He didn’t resurface until Lee recruited him and he recruited him for a reason.

Al Lee’s boys have a specialty. Mace’s is one you don’t need to know.”

“But –”

His hand came to the side of my face and his eyes got serious.

“You don’t need to know,” he repeated in a way I knew he wasn’t going to tel me and I knew, no matter what I tried, he wouldn’t tel me.

Then his hands started roaming and his head moved so his mouth was at my neck. I knew he was looking for a way to turn my mind to different, far more pleasant things but I pul ed my neck away and wrapped my fingers around one of his wrists to stop his hands from roaming.

“Eddie.”

“Shit, I know
that
‘Eddie’,” he muttered into my neck with more than a little frustration. Eddie, by the way, had quickly become an expert in al the ways I could communicate by just saying his name, therefore, this time, he knew it was my turn to be serious. His head came up and he looked into my eyes.

“Is he okay?” I asked.

“No,” Eddie answered bluntly. “But he wil be, soon as this shit’s over and Stel a gives in.”

“Pardon?”

Eddie sighed then touched my mouth with his and dropped his forehead to mine, his thumb stroking my jaw.

When he spoke, he did it softly. “Lotta wounds don’t heal, Jet. Seein’ your sister’s head get blown off, I suspect, is one of ‘em. Havin’ a Dad, and not havin’ one, I’m thinkin’

you understand, is another. You got a good woman in your life, even though the wounds stay open, you move on, live life. The pain doesn’t go away but life has a different focus.

A better one.”

He was right. I had a Dad but didn’t have one most of my life. That wound had never healed. My Dad was an inveterate gambler. He was around a lot more now, getting his life sorted but he could fal off the wagon at any time. My sister and I lived with that knowledge and the fear that went with it and it was no fun.

Finding Eddie and believing in us had given my life a different focus.

A better one.

However, with the recent, newly acquired knowledge that my fiancé, Detective Eddie Badass Chavez, snowboarded and his innate understanding of Mace’s wounds, worried me.

My hands slid up the sleek, muscled skin of his back, one stopping at his shoulder blade, the other one sliding up his neck, my fingers sifting into his hair.

“Do you have a wound that won’t heal?” I asked quietly and braced myself for his answer.

He lifted his forehead from mine and his eyes dropped to my mouth.

“Lived a lucky life,
mi pequeña,
” he muttered, his eyes coming back to mine and they were again liquid but this time also fil ed with tenderness and affection and I felt my heart skip a beat. “And,
alabado sea Dios
, it keeps gettin’

luckier.”

Then he was done talking and he kissed me, deep and wet and I was done talking too.

His mouth slid down my neck to my chest where he murmured, “You’re about to get lucky too.” Then his mouth slid down further then further then he spread my legs and his mouth was
right there
and, he was very right, I got lucky too.

After Eddie made me lucky with his talented mouth, he came up over me, slid inside me, pounded deep and he got even luckier (and so did I).

When we were done, he turned out the light, rol ed me so my back was to his front and he wrapped both arms around me. One went tight around my midriff; the other one went low, to cup me between my legs.

This was a new thing of Eddie’s; holding me this way after we’d made love. It started a few weeks ago after I agreed to marry him. It was intimate, possessive and somehow claiming even though I was already his.

I had to admit, I liked it.

“
Chiquita
?” Eddie cal ed when I was just about ready to fal asleep.

“Hmm?”

“It’s likely Stel a doesn’t know any of this shit.” My eyes opened.

Eddie went on, his voice holding a gentle warning, “It’s Mace’s to tel her.”

I didn’t say anything.

Eddie kept going. “You women talk. I’m askin’ you not to talk about this.”

“She should know,” I replied.

“She should but when he’s ready to tel her.”

“Eddie –”

He interrupted me, his voice firm, his arm and hand both tensed and I sucked in breath. “No, Jet.” I bit my lip.

Then I nodded.

I wouldn’t tel Stel a.

Unless I had to.

Stella

“Fuck,” Mace swore under his breath as we drove down the graveled drive next to Swen and Ulrika’s mansion.

I knew why he was cursing. It was four o’clock in the morning and I’d been shot at (again!). Mace had just spent the last hours of his life being held back from murdering the guy who shot at me (this made him unhappy, me relieved) and talking to police. Now, upon arrival home, we both could see Eric standing, his arms crossed on his chest and his feet planted wide, il uminated in the outside light that hung over the side door to the house.

I sighed.

Loudly.

Eric watched our approach and I saw that his hair was even messier than normal, probably from running his fingers through it. Even though the light wasn’t great, you could stil tel he was pissed.

I figured he knew what went down that night.

Effing hel .

This was not a good situation. I knew Mace was not in a chipper mood. He was wired and he was angry and Mace’s brand of angry was pretty effing scary.

I didn’t have the energy to deal with Mace’s scary brand of anger or Eric’s for that matter. I had a lot going on in my head. I hadn’t had a chance to process what happened onstage considering the fact someone nearly shot me (again!). I also hadn’t had the chance to avoid Mace in order to get my head together because I was too busy making cal s to check on the band who, by the way, were al freaked way
the hell
out but they were breathing which in my crazy-ass life at the moment I took as a boon.

Further, when Mace came to The Castle, I took one look at him and I knew it would be beyond stupid to pour oil on
that
fire. So when he ordered me (without a greeting, just walked into Daisy’s big room and said it, straight out) to get to the car, instead of mouthing off (which I real y wanted to do), I went to the car.

Now this.

Just in case you forgot, I’l remind you, my luck sucked.

Eric was approaching my side of the Explorer before Mace came to a ful stop. Once the car halted, he yanked my door open, reached in, released my belt and pul ed me out of the cab.

And now this!

As my boots hit the gravel, I started to say something.

What, I did not know but I didn’t get the chance to get anything out.

“Hands off,” Mace growled, rounding the hood of the SUV.

“Fuck you,” Eric replied, clearly and insanely not reading Mace’s scary-unhappy body language.

Lordy be.

“Eric,” I said softly, trying to pul my arm free (and failing) and thinking I should defuse the already heated situation.

Again, I didn’t get the chance. Mace spoke before I could.

“I’l say it one more time, Turner. Hands off.”

“And I’l say it one more time, Mason. Fuck you,” Eric returned, yanking me toward his metal ic-granite-colored Chevy Trailblazer.

Shitsofuckit!

Before I knew what was happening or I could utter a word, both men moved.

Fast.

I was thrown free of Eric. There was a scuffle and Mace and Eric ended the scuffle face-to-face, fingers curled into each other’s tees.

“Stop it!” I shouted, rushing forward and shoving between their bodies to separate them (this failed too, for your information). Stil , my intervention kind of worked. They both pushed off with their hands, each taking a step back but they continued the stare down.

Effing men.

I opened my mouth to speak but, to my increasing frustration, Eric got there before me.

“I’m taking her into protective custody,” he announced.

Oh dear.

“The hel you are,” Mace shot back.

“You aren’t keepin’ her safe,” Eric returned.

“Yeah, and it’s safe standin’ out here fuckin’ dealin’ with you,” Mace snapped, throwing his arm out to the night to make his point.

Eric switched subjects. “She got shot at.”

“I know that,” Mace retorted.

“Again,” Eric pushed.

“I know that,” Mace repeated, visibly losing what was left of his patience.

“Pong nearly got his head blown off.” Eric kept at it and I wondered how he knew that but didn’t have a chance to process that either because Mace lost his patience.

Leaning toward Eric, he roared, “
I fucking know that!
”

“I can keep her safe!” Eric shouted back.

“Yeah, like you kept Skinny Blackburn safe?” Mace returned, his tone shifting smoothly to quiet and dripping with sarcasm.

I blinked in confusion.

I blinked in confusion.

Skinny Blackburn? Who the ef was Skinny Blackburn?

I watched Eric wince and knew Mace scored a point.

Before I could butt in, Eric recovered and informed Mace, “I’l see to Stel a personal y.”

Uh-oh. I was thinking that wasn’t the right thing to say.

Mace, already tense, went solid, and his voice was now dangerous when he said softly, “I bet you wil .”

“Stop thinkin’ with your dick, Mason, and be fuckin’

smart,” Eric warned.

That
, I suspected, wasn’t the right thing to say either.

“You got a minute to get the fuck out of here before I rip your goddamned head off,” Mace snarled.

Yep, I was right. Not the right thing to say.

Eric ignored Mace, turned to me and ordered, “Get in the Blazer, Stel a.”

Oh shit.

I didn’t have a chance to speak or move before Mace, not taking his eyes off Eric, said to me, “Stel a, don’t go near that fuckin’ Blazer.”

“For fuck’s sake, get in the goddamned Blazer!” Eric yel ed, also now talking to me while glaring at Mace and also losing patience.

Hmm.

Conundrum.

See, Eric was a Fed and I figured the federal government had the resources to make it unlikely that I would be riddled with bul ets. And this was something which was looking uncomfortably more and more like it might happen in my near future.

But Eric also had a thing for me that I didn’t have the emotional capacity to explore at the present moment, considering my life was in danger, not to mention a complete mess. One thing I knew, I didn’t need to owe him.