Rock Chick 06 Reckoning (39 page)

“Are you laughing?” I asked, thinking maybe he’d gone temporarily insane with lack of sleep or something.

“Yeah,” he answered.

“Why?”

He did a mini-ab-crunch and twisted so he was on his elbow too, his face in my face, so close, it was the only thing I could see.

“I win,” he murmured and his words were ful of triumph and arrogance.

For a mil isecond, I considered giving his shin a good kick.

Instead, I rol ed my eyes and muttered, “Whatever.” At that, his arms shot around me, he dropped to his back, taking me with him, me mostly on top and he burst out laughing.

* * * * *

It was me who won.

* * * **

Mace was hindering these efforts because he was in the tiny kitchen with me, sipping a mug of coffee, his big body leaning against the counter and getting in my way.

He was wearing faded jeans, no belt, no shoes, hair stil slightly damp. He was also wearing a bit greener than olive green short-sleeved henley. It was a sweet henley mainly because it had been made for a normal man, a man without large, defined, muscular biceps. Therefore, the sleeves fit tight, drawing your attention to Mace’s large, defined, muscular biceps.

My attention on Mace’s biceps was also hindering my cooking efforts. Hol andaise sauce required concentration or it would split and when it split you had to throw it out and start al over which sucked (I knew this because it happened to me a lot).

I was wearing a pair of cutoff jeans shorts and a black, racer back tank with a skul entwined with vines emblazoned on the back in charcoal gray. Like Mace, my hair was wet and my feet were bare.

“The boys’l know I’m comin’ to you at night,” Mace told me.

“How?”

“Babe, the cameras,” he reminded me.

Effing hel . How was I always forgetting about the cameras?

Mace went on, “The Rock Chicks need to be kept in the dark.”

I was whisking the sauce like my life depended on it (which was the way with hol andaise sauce) and I looked over my shoulder at Mace in confusion.

“Why?” I asked.

“They got big mouths, that’s why.”

He was not wrong about that. The Rock Chicks definitely had big mouths.

“Okay,” I repeated. Then something about the cameras hit me, I saw the sauce had thickened and I pul ed it from the burner, trying to keep my cool as I began to feel uncomfortable. “Mace, those cameras –”

“Yeah?”

I set the sauce aside and fished the poached eggs out of the water and put them on the waiting toasted English muffins and gril ed Canadian bacon while I said, “They don’t watch when we, um… you know. Like this morning?”

“Internal cameras are shut down when the men are home.”

I let out a sigh of relief.

Thank God for
that
.

I poured the sauce over the eggs and set the pan aside. I handed Mace a plate (three eggs, three thick pieces of bacon, three muffins, it was a lot of food but he was a big guy) with a fork and knife and turned my attention to my own plate (one egg, I wasn’t a big breakfast type of person).

We stood in the kitchen, plates on the counter, bodies sideways, eating standing up (I real y needed to consider investing in a dining room table, how I was going to do that and send money home, I had no idea but I figured it was time to start pushing the guitar lessons gig).

I was busy eating and my mind was busy thinking.

Instead of feeling relaxed and happy that Mace was there and we were “good”, not to mention we’d had great sex (twice), I was tense and slightly freaked out. I couldn’t shift from what had gone down the last week, my despair of the last year, straight into back together with Mace al is hunky dory.

First, I was worried about our conversation this morning, not only the “more” Mace told me we had to talk about but also I was worried for him and whatever he was going to tel me about his sister.

And second, my life was stil a shambles.

With my head fil ed with these things, it took awhile for me to feel the pleasant warmth sweeping up the back of my neck.

I lifted my gaze to see Mace’s eyes were on me. They were warm and sweet and his lips were turned up at the ends.

“What?” I asked.

“Missed your cooking, Kitten.” Came his soft answer.

“Don’t know anyone who can whip up eggs benedict like she was makin’ toast.”

I was guessing he liked his eggs.

There it went, freak out obliterated.

I smiled at him.

He smiled back.

He had a great smile.

Why did we spend a week fighting with him?
My brain asked me.

Oh shut up,
I told my brain.

Mace’s attention went back to his plate and he forked into another egg. “Hank’s started a col ection.” I was chewing so I swal owed, chased the eggs with some coffee and asked, “A col ection?”

He didn’t answer my question, instead he said,

“Everyone’s in, including Marcus, Malcolm and Tom. Hank’l go after Tod and Stevie and Shirleen when you and I come out. They got about fifteen large so far.” I was confused and not fol owing. “Fifteen large what?”

“Fifteen large dol ars.”

I stared at him.

“Sorry, Mace,” I explained. “I’m not fol owing.” His eyes went from his plate to me. “For your folks.” Gut kick. It wasn’t unpleasant but for a moment it was paralyzing.

I jerked out of my temporary paralysis and asked, “Hank did a col ection for my Mom and Dad and, in one day, they’ve got fifteen thousand dol ars?”

Mace nodded, eyes back to his plate, he kept talking.

“Luke’s loaded, so is Lee. Darius has got money put away.

Before Vance met Jules, he kept his overheard low, lived tight, didn’t spend much. Even though they’re lookin’ to put money down on a house, Jules has got some huge account that’s supposed to be her Uncle Nick’s but he’s demandin’

she put it down when they find a place. I don’t get that, don’t care, bottom line, Vance was generous. Marcus said that once Daisy found out about it, she’d want to be top the heap so he doubled the highest kick in.”

My mouth had dropped open.

Final y, I said, “Fifteen thousand dol ars?” Mace went back to eating after he said, “Yep.”

“And you?” I asked. “How much did it take to bring them current on their mortgage?”

“Six K. Marcus doesn’t know about that,” Mace replied calmly, forked up the last of his eggs, grabbed his plate and walked it to the sink.

I was not calm.

The freak out had returned with a vengeance.

He was running hot water on his plate when I told his profile, “That’s twenty-one thousand dol ars.”

“Yep,” Mace repeated.

“Twenty-one thousand dol ars in… one… day,” I went on.

Mace turned off the water and shifted to face me. His eyes were alert and he watched me closely.

“Yep,” he said again.

“That’s…” I started then stopped then started again.

“That’s
insane
.”

“Their debt tops a hundred K or it did. I looked over your parents’ shit last night. Your Mom’s not workin’, your Dad barely makes enough to cover the mortgage and household bil s. They doubled up on the mortgage to take care of the first round of treatments. This round is bringin’ them low.” Another gut kick, this one
was
unpleasant.

“One hundred thousand dol ars?” I whispered.

“Yeah,” Mace replied softly.

I looked at him.

He returned my stare.

Then I shouted, “Oh my God! That’s… I can’t… oh my God! I can’t wrap my head around that!”

“Stel a –”

I shook my head, dropped my fork in my plate, put the plate on the counter and raised my hands then dropped them.

“Not counting the money from the last three gigs, which, by the way, Monk hasn’t paid yet, though The Little Bear paid Floyd I just don’t have my take, I’ve got seven hundred and fifty dol ars in savings, just over a thousand in checking and maybe a thousand in the savings bonds Mom used to buy me for Christmas,” I told Mace then walked out of the kitchen, whipped around on one foot and walked back to see Mace had turned to watch me. “Oh my God. I can’t help them. I can’t… even fifteen thousand dol ars can’t… and we can’t take that money!”

“Kitten –”

“It’s too much!” I yel ed.

He smiled which, for your information, I thought was total y insane in a world that was
completely
insane.

“You try talkin’ Hank and Lee out of givin’ your folks that money.”

I considered this.

I didn’t know Hank al that wel , he seemed real y nice, a little less intense and more laidback than the other Hot Bunch boys but not
that
much less intense and laidback.

Lee, on the other hand, sometimes just plain scared me.

He was bossy and, you could tel , used to getting his way.

Shitsofuckit!

When I was about to come to terms with al this, Mace spoke again. “My father’s gonna pay off the rest and give them a nest egg. Whatever happens with your Mom, it’l happen with her feelin’ comfortable.”

My mouth had dropped open again and I was staring at him like he’d just announced his intention to spend the next six years travel ing to Mars so he could set up a colony of super-Mace-humans.

“What?” I breathed.

“My father is gonna make your family comfortable. He’s gonna give them a mil ion dol ars, that’l pay off their bil s, pay off the house and pay for whatever lies ahead.” I stil hadn’t stopped staring at him.

“You’re crazy,” I breathed.

He shook his head.

I put my hands to my hips and leaned toward Mace before I spoke. “First, I don’t want his money. I know he’s your Dad, Mace, but he’s a jerk. Second, he’s mean. He’s not going to give my parents one mil ion dol ars. Third, I don’t want his money!”

I ended this on a shout, my body so tense I could feel the muscles in my neck pulsating.

Mace, however, was calm. “It isn’t his money.”

“What do you mean, it isn’t his money?”

“I mean it’s mine and it’s my Mom’s. It’s also Caitlin’s and Caitlin’s Mom’s. He owes us al and the time for him to pay has come.”

I blinked and asked, “Caitlin?”

“My sister.”

My tense body froze solid.

It was time.

Effing hel , it was time.

I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to go to him but I didn’t think that was right. It also wasn’t right to hold my ground. I was at least three feet away from him. It seemed a mile. He stil seemed calm but he couldn’t be. There was no way.

I made a decision, stayed where I was and forced my body to relax.

Then I asked softly, “Her name was Caitlin?” Mace stayed where he was too and replied, “Yeah.” I took in a breath then let it go, tried to find something innocuous to start with, settled on an idea and continued,

“Did she look like you?”

Mace watched me a beat then shook his head once and answered, “No. She was blonde. Blue eyes. Tiny.” I kept my silence and my distance, only my eyes were on him. But my brain was emanating comfort vibes as hard as it could and I hoped like crazy he was receiving them.

He put a hand to the counter and leaned into it.

Then he repeated on a tortured murmur, “Tiny.” I knew in an instant the conversation had changed.

Something about the way he said that word made my heart squeeze.

I waited, eyes on him. He kept his eyes on me.

When he didn’t say anything, I whispered, “Tiny?” When I said the word, his eyes closed, when they opened the demons were there, I saw them, clear as day.

Effing bloody hel .

I held my breath but kept my distance and I hoped to al that was holy I was doing the right thing.

He spoke again. “She was a dancer. Bal et. Good at it.

So petite, Christ, so fuckin’ smal . But graceful. Just the way she moved was like a dance.” He stopped and started again, “She was pure elegance. Al she had to move was her hands. She had exquisite hands.” He stopped again then went on, his voice quiet, “Jesus, I’l never forget the way she moved her hands.”

He stopped again and I thought there was something important about this but somehow I knew it wasn’t the time to push it.

“You were proud of her.” My voice was soft.

He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. I knew the answer was an affirmative.

Instead he said, “She wanted to move to New York.” I nodded.

He kept talking and his voice was getting low and rough and my heart squeezed again at the sound of it. “I took her there when she was fourteen. She fel in love with the place.”

I pressed my lips together and nodded again. This was hard. I wanted to go to him, it hurt to hold my ground but I stayed away.

“You guys didn’t have the same Mom?” I asked.

Mace shook his head.

“Half sister,” I went on.

Mace just looked at me.

“You were close,” I guessed on a whisper.

“I cal ed her Tiny,” Mace shared.

Understanding the importance of that word, I felt the tears hit my eyes and thought about having a cool, tal , handsome, surfer dude brother who took me to New York, loved the way I moved my hands and cal ed me Tiny.

It was an immensely happy thought at the time it was devastatingly sad.

Softly I said, “I bet you were a good brother.”