Rock Chick 06 Reckoning (30 page)

I didn’t fight this. I was beginning to learn (belatedly) that fighting him physical y was detrimental to my abilities to fight him emotional y.

One of his hands tangled in my hair, giving it a gentle tug so my head tilted back. He dipped his chin down to look at me.

Then he said, “Al right, Stel a, I’l give you one.” Uh-oh.

One? One what?
My brain asked.

“One what?” I said out loud.

“A piece of me.”

Oh dear.

He kept talking. “The worst part of breaking up with you was you lettin’ me walk away.”

My breath packed up and took a shuttle flight to the moon.

“What?” I whispered.

“It was so good between us, I didn’t think in a mil ion fuckin’ years you’d let me walk away,” Mace went on.

“What?” I asked. Yes, again!

His arms got tighter, his hand fisted gently in my hair, right before he said, “It was a test.”

His words hit me like blows, my body froze rigid then I shouted, “
What?
”

“You failed,” he continued.

Effing hel . Effing hel . Effing bloody
hell
.

“You… are… joking,” I breathed, careful y enunciating each word.

“Babe, I hope you get that I’m prepared to fight for you but I gotta know you’l fight for me too. This shit goes both ways. This doesn’t end until I know you won’t walk away but also you won’t let me walk away. Never again.” What he was saying wasn’t quite penetrating my brain.

“What you’re tel ing me,” my voice was both quiet and weirdly scratchy, “is that if I’d asked you back, you would have come?”

The fingers of his hand not in my hair started to stroke The fingers of his hand not in my hair started to stroke my spine.

“I needed you to make a statement, Kitten,” he said softly. “You didn’t.”

Al of a sudden, I felt like crying.

I fought it and persevered at trying to understand what he was tel ing me.

“What you’re saying is you didn’t break up with me because you wanted to break up with me. What you’re saying is you broke up with me to test me?”

“Yeah,” he replied.

Simple as that.

Yeah
.

A year of heartache and a simple “yeah”.

It al boiled down to that.

Tears fil ed my eyes, I didn’t want them to but I didn’t fight them either. I was
way
beyond fighting. I wasn’t sure what I was feeling; I just knew none of it was good.

“Okay,” I started, my voice now croaky and his hand left my hair, his other hand stopped stroking my spine and his arms got tight. “I just want to be sure I have this straight. You came into my life, gave me the first something good I had outside of music and took it away as
a test?
”

“Kitten –”

What he said and what it meant final y penetrated my brain.

“You jerk,” I whispered.

His arms grew tighter. “Stel a, listen to me –”

“You jerk,” I repeated, my voice breaking, the tears sliding out the sides of my eyes, I didn’t even try to control them because I knew I couldn’t.

“I didn’t know how you felt, you didn’t tel me –” he started.

“You didn’t ask,” I reminded him.

“Babe, if I’d have asked, would you have told me?”

“Yes,” I said immediately and watched his head jerk back in surprise but I ignored it and went on. “I would have told you, back then I would have given you anything.” He watched my face as if assessing my honesty then his hand went up, his fingers sifting into my hair, he tilted his head back and shoved my face into his throat.

“Christ, Stel a,” he said but it sounded more like a groan.

“Mace, next time you feel like ‘giving me one’, you should reconsider,” I advised, my voice had turned cold, my eyes had dried and I knew, somehow, my heart had gone hard.

“Now, let me go.”

I meant the words with a double meaning.

Of course, he didn’t let me go.

Instead, he muttered, “I fucked up.”

He was right about that.

“Yes, you did. Now let me go.”

“I fucked up,” he repeated then used my hair to pul my face out of his throat and his head tilted down to look at me.

“Kitten, I’m sorry,” he whispered.

I knew it took a lot for him to say that.

I knew it.

But it hurt so much I didn’t care.

“I’m sure you are. And I’m just as sure that I don’t give a fuck,” I lied but it sounded good, it sounded real and I watched him wince as I scored the point. I knew that seeing his wince should register somewhere but it didn’t. “Now let me go.”

He stil didn’t let me go, instead, he said, “You need to get it.”

“Oh, I get it,” I told him even though I didn’t and I never would.

“No, babe, you don’t. Yesterday morning –” I shook my head. “Oh no you don’t,” I snapped.

He was
not
going to fuck with my head anymore. He didn’t want to share until he got his piece of me, so be it. I was keeping al my pieces al to myself.

Fuck that!

His arms got so tight they made it hard for me to breathe and I watched as his face morphed from soft remorse to the beginnings of hard anger.

“Listen to me,” he growled.

“We’re done talking,” I interrupted him. “I don’t want to talk anymore. Go find the bad guy, Mace, so this can be over.”

“You need to understand where I’m coming from,” he told me.

“I don’t care where you’re coming from,” I shot back.

Morph complete, Mace was straight out angry. “Stel a, I’m warnin’ you, you got one shot at this, you throw it back in my face, you won’t get another one.”

Hard-hearted or not, that scared the snot out of me.

Regardless of the fear, self-preservation took firm hold and answered for me. “I’l take that chance.” His face stayed angry but I could swear I saw pain flash in his eyes, sharp and fierce. The sight of it made bile climb up my throat but I had no chance to take back my words.

He let me go.

Then he exited the bed.

The loss of his body felt like a cold slap.

I sat up and pul ed the sheets around me as he walked to his jeans. His body was taut, his movements jerky. It didn’t take a body language expert to know he was pissed.

And, what was even scarier, maybe even hurt.

Shitsofuckit!

Now, what had I done?

I felt my heart start racing and swal owed the bile in my throat.

I opened my mouth to cal to him when the buzzer went.

“Jesus,” he muttered, yanked on his jeans and walked to the alarm panel.

“Mace,” I cal ed but it came out more quiet than a whisper and he didn’t hear me.

Mace hit the button on the alarm panel, Al y’s face fil ed the video screen and Mace said, “Yeah?”

“Open up!” Al y demanded. “Rock Chicks!”

He took his finger from the button, muttered, “Jesus,” again and then hit another button, buzzing them up.

He unlocked the doors, turned to me and said, “I’l take the dog out.”

Then he went to his bag, pul ed out a navy blue henley, yanked it on and was sitting on the platform, pul ing on his boots when the Rock Chicks stormed the door. Al y, Indy, Jet, Roxie, Ava, Daisy, Shirleen, Annette and even Jules was there.

“We hit the news!” Al y shouted, holding up a copy of the paper. “This time al of us.” Then she snapped her mouth shut and her eyes swung from me, to Mace, back to me.

I sat, stil frozen, stil naked, stil in bed, staring at my friends as they al stood, silent, realizing from the heavy air that they’d interrupted something.

“Um, is this a bad time?” Jules final y asked.

In answer, Mace got up, stalked to the leash hanging by the side of the door and whistled for the strangely attuned to her human’s emotional turmoil thus silent Juno.

As he did al of this, the Rock Chicks and my eyes fol owed him.

Mace did one more (very weird) thing before he left.

He yanked the paper out of Al y’s hand, ignoring her surprised, “Hey!” and he shoved it under his armpit.

Then he was gone.

I stared at the closed door.

The Rock Chicks stared at it too.

Slowly, Shirleen turned to me.

“Shirleen’s not thinkin’ good thoughts,” she announced.

“You got
that
right, sister,” Jet muttered.

Effing hel .

Stella

I wrapped the sheet around my body and then shuffled on my bottom to the edge of the bed.

“You okay?” Al y asked.

“I’l make coffee,” Ava muttered and headed into the kitchen.

My feet hit the floor and I headed toward my robe. “I think something bad just happened,” I said softly, not certain I wanted to share but too scared at what I was feeling to keep it inside.

“You think?” Shirleen asked. “Air was so heavy you could cut it with a knife.”

I looked at her as I struggled to put the robe on over the sheet. Her eyes were sharp but her face was soft and that combo eloquently showed her concern.

I felt the tears hit the backs of my eyes again. I pul ed breath in through my nose and decided maybe I shouldn’t share.

“What was in the paper?” I asked, changing the subject and dropping the sheet.

“Unh-unh, girl, what just happened?” Daisy was standing, hands on her slim, faded denim-covered hips.

I took a moment to peruse Daisy’s ensemble which was faded denim from head-to-toe, literal y. She was wearing a bil ed, slouchy, denim cap on her platinum blonde head, pigtails peeking out from under it at the back, wispy bangs at her forehead. She had on a tight, faded, buttoned up, denim vest, so much cleavage bulging forth from the v-neck that she was forced to leave one button undone taking the vest from indecent to mildly pornographic. Completing her look, she wore jeans, skintight al the way down to her ankles, and denim covered, pointed toed, spike heeled mules.

I al owed myself another moment to marvel at her ability to pul off this ridiculous outfit as if it was the height of couture before she snapped, “Wel ?”

I grabbed my sky-blue lace undies and pul ed them on while saying, “I think I just did something stupid.”

“More stupid than not just lettin’ Mace back into your life without this idiotic rigmarole? Bul ets flyin’, Hot Bunch boys puttin’ their asses on the line, threats against al you al …” Shirleen whirled her finger around to take in al the Rock Chicks. “Stil , you al act like getting a booty cal from one of the Hot Bunch was like being tortured. I just don’t get it.”

“It’s hardly a booty cal , Shirleen. They get in your head, move into your house, push you around, tel you what to do, so damn bossy,” Indy sprang to my defense heatedly as I walked toward the kitchen. In fact, Indy’s words were so heated it seemed she was having a flashback.

Shirleen put a hand to her chest and reared back. “Oh is that it? Wel excuse me! You poor child!” Then she made a snorting sound. “Shee-it, any one of those boys wanted to push me around, I’d say bring it on. Hel , I’d pay for one of

‘em to move into my house. They don’t even have to do me; just walk around so I can watch. Maybe in a towel.” Jules looked at me and rol ed her eyes.

“You don’t understand,” Roxie put in.

“Nope. That’s right, girl, Shirleen
does not
understand.

So what trauma are we up against now?” Shirleen’s eyes moved to me. “You havin’ too many orgasms or what?”

“Is there such a thing as too many orgasms?” Annette asked before I could answer. Even though I barely knew her and she’d never been to my house in her life, she was opening and closing my cupboard doors, searching for I didn’t know what.

“No, child, that’s the point,” Shirleen replied with barely restrained patience.

“For what it’s worth,” Annette went on, giving up on her search and turning to the group. “I’m with Shirleen on this one. Jason ain’t no slouch in the orgasm department but we got a deal, him and me. It’s like those lists you make with movie stars. If, say, you got a chance at The Rock, you could take it without getting in trouble with your partner. Me and Jason got a list, me, the Hot Bunch, Jason, the Rock Chicks.”

Everyone went silent and stared at Annette.

Al except Shirleen, she said, “Mm, girl, you got good taste. That Dwayne Johnson is one shit-hot black man.”

“He’s Samoan,” Annette informed Shirleen.

“That boy is black,” Shirleen shot back.

“Half and half,” Annette, clearly a bevy of The Rock Information, went on.

“I want the black half,” Shirleen returned.

“Oh my God, can we stop talking about The Rock?” Jet yel ed.

“I don’t mind a short conversational switch to The Rock,” Daisy said. “Have you seen
Walking Tall?
”

“Yeah, about seven thousand times,” Annette replied.

“I prefer
Faster,
” Shirleen shared her opinion. “There was no sex scene, which was a minus, but the role required two hours of him bein’ broody. Him bein’ broody for two hours is a definite plus.”

“I made a DVD of half an hour, continuous loop of him fighting Vin Diesel over and over and
over
again in
Fast
Five,
” Annette shared. “You wanna come over and watch it, I’l make popcorn.”

“Oowee, Vin Diesel,” Shirleen breathed.

“I am
so there
,” Daisy stated.

“Count me in,” Shirleen said after recovering from visions of half an hour continuous loop Johnson vs. Diesel action.

I sat on the edge of a platform, fel to my back and stared at the ceiling.

Were we real y talking about The Rock?

He was, of course, hot, but I had other, slightly more important things on my mind.