Rock Chick Reckoning (Rock Chick #6)(39)
Author: Kristen Ashley

When no deliverance was forthcoming, I twisted and looked around Mace’s body to the boys in my band.

“Would you guys shut up? ” I snapped.

They al just stared at me with expressions that said,

“What?”

My effing band.

I turned back around to Monk.

“So?” I prompted when Monk didn’t speak.

Monk’s expression twisted into one that made him look like he’d just sucked on a lemon. It was not attractive. At the best of times Monk was not attractive so one could say this was more like, really not attractive.

“I’l close down the door and thin the crowd,” Monk gave in.

I looked at the ceiling. “Thank you, God.” My eyes came back to Monk when he started speaking again.

“Stel a, you continue to be this big of a pain in the ass and this ass**le stays connected to the band,” Monk jerked a thumb at Mace, “I’l have to rethink my schedule.” Okay, there it was again.

Proof that my luck sucked.

We had three gigs scheduled in the next two months at The Pal adium. Even with him skimming off the top, we got our biggest take from Monk. Hel , Leo and Buzz could live for weeks off one night’s take at The Pal adium. We couldn’t lose The Pal adium.

Before I could retort, Mace moved. One second, I was between him and Monk. The next second, nothing was between him and Monk and Monk had miraculously grown six inches. This was because Mace had him off his feet, pressed to the wal partly with Mace’s body, partly with Mace’s hand at his throat.

“Do I have to explain my point?” Mace asked from between his teeth.

Monk’s eyes were bugged out and he was staring down at Mace. He shook his head as best he could with Mace’s hand wrapped around his neck just under his jaw.

Mace dropped Monk but stayed close.

“You give the band’s take of the door and pay to me tonight. I count it and I don’t like what I see, we’re gonna continue that conversation,” Mace told Monk.

Effing hell.

Did Mace just say that?

Monk glared at Mace but he nodded then he scooted out and lost himself in the crowd.

I watched Monk go.

Yep, Mace just said that.

Mace just took care of me and the band.

Again.

Effing, blinding hel .

“I f**kin’ love that guy,” Pong said, his eyes were on Mace.

Effing, effing, blinding, blinding, hel , hel , hell.

“Don’t you have groupies to tag for post-gig festivities?” I asked Pong.

Pong’s body jerked at the realization that he was standing around with me and a bunch of men when he could be working the girls in the crowd, setting up that night’s action.

“Oh shit, yeah.” Pong turned and punched Hugo’s arm.

“Time’s a-wastin’, black man.”

Hugo looked down his nose at Pong. “Don’t cal me

‘black man’.”

“Why not?” Pong was on the move. He didn’t actual y care why not, he always cal ed Hugo “black man” and Hugo always told him not to.

“A black man can cal me ‘black man’. An eyeliner wearin’, hair-spray sprayin’, skinny white cracker can’t cal me ‘black man’.” Hugo was on the move too.

“Don’t cal me ‘skinny white cracker’.” I heard Pong say as he disappeared into the throng.

“You are a skinny white cracker.” I heard Hugo respond as he disappeared too.

“I need a beer,” Floyd said to no one and he headed toward the bar.

“I need my weed.” Leo headed backstage.

Buzz came up, eyes avoiding mine, and he gave me a brief hug. Buzz was often affectionate but, after al the drama, this stil took me off-guard.

Before I could respond, he disappeared in the crowd too.

I watched the space where I’d last seen Buzz.

I knew what the hug was for – Linnie and “La Grange”.

I pressed my lips together so I wouldn’t cry.

Duke, Vance and Lee melted into the shadows leaving me with Mace.

I took a swig of my beer. I was too emotional y charged to deal with Mace at that moment.

No, strike that, I was too emotional y charged to deal with Mace at al , ever.

“I need some alone time,” I told him even though I should have been thanking him. Yet again, he was taking care of me and my band.

To avoid looking at Mace, I was looking at the crowd.

Duke, Lee and, I noticed, now Hank and Wil ie, were holding back some people who wanted to get to me. They were creating a little pocket of solitude in the crowded club.

I could have kissed them.

“You had a year of alone time. That time’s up,” Mace replied and my eyes shifted to his then they narrowed.

Erm, pardonnez moi?

“Excuse me?” I asked.

He got close.

I retreated.

My back slammed against the wal . His hand came up to rest on the wal by the side of my head and his body curled around, fencing me in.

“Mace, please…” I asked softly, hoping he’d give in as he often did when I went soft.

“You’re magic up there,” Mace clearly wasn’t in the mood to give in and I knew then that he wasn’t newly arrived either. He’d likely been there al night, in the shadows, watching.

This made me shiver.

In the dim light of the club, I saw he’d gone soft too and his soft was a heckuva lot more powerful than mine.

Oh dear.

“Stop it,” I said.

“You think you’re good but you’re not good, you’re f**kin’

magnetic.”

“Stop.”

“You could light up arenas.”

I closed my eyes tight.

“Stop,” I whispered.

I felt him get even closer, the heat from his body hitting mine.

It felt good. It felt safe. It felt right.

“What you’re not is black.”

My eyes flew open but even so, there was only time to see him melt into the crowd.

Effing, bloody, f**king hell.

* * * * *

I knew I was going to do it, right after our never-say-die, always-upon-always, burning-down-the-house, gig-ending, band-defining version of “Ghostriders in the Sky”. I knew I was going to do it, break precedent, maybe even shift the entire center of the band, maybe even pound a crack in our foundation just in order to do it.

Because I had to do it.

Mace had to get it.

If he didn’t get it, I was lost. I already felt myself veering off the path.

And I’d just found my way again.

I wasn’t going back.