Rock Chick Reckoning (Rock Chick #6)(41)
Author: Kristen Ashley

This time, my breath took the Concord out of retirement and shot to Paris.

That was right before the gunshots rang out.

And the gunshots rang out just seconds before Mace and I went down, Mace’s big, hard body landing on mine like a dead weight to the sickening, discordant sound of the strings of a crashing guitar.

Chapter Nine

Sex Wax

Jet

I was smiling at Daisy, stil high from Stel a and The Gypsies’ “Ghostriders” which always lasted at least ten minutes (if not more) and, no matter how many times we heard it (which was every time we saw them play), they made it fresh, ful of energy and it always brought the house down.

But tonight, it was more. The band was on fire and that fire blazed through the crowd, white-hot. It was enough to make us forget our troubles, the danger again confronting us and just enjoy some good ol’ rock ‘n’ rol .

Daisy grinned back at me and shouted, “Yippee kay yay!”

So, of course, I shouted it right back at her.

Over Daisy’s shoulder, I saw Annette and Roxie doing a high five then they bumped h*ps and, seeing that, I giggled.

It was great being a Rock Chick.

Only thing better was being Eddie’s Woman.

Lucky for me, I was both.

My eyes slid through the crowd, looking for Eddie (not finding him, by the way) and coming to stop on Tex.

Like he had been al night, Tex was sitting at a stool, his back to the bar. But now, his narrowed eyes were locked on something as if that something was something he did not like.

Since there were a lot of things Tex didn’t like, I didn’t think much of this.

Then, to my surprise, I heard the first notes of Pearl Jam’s “Black” coming from Stel a’s guitar.

Good God.

I felt as wel as heard the tremor of surprise go through the crowd and my stunned body slowly turned. On my way around, I saw that Indy, Al y, Roxie, Daisy, Ava and Annette were no longer Post-“Ghostriders” high. They were al staring, mouths wide open, at the stage.

The Gypsies never did an encore.

As in… never.

When my eyes hit Stel a, I instantly became transfixed.

She was at the mic and singing a slow, “Oh yeah”.

Her eyes moved then locked on someone in the crowd and I knew without looking where her gaze was directed. I knew without looking that she was going to sing to Mace.

Like she did a few months ago when she sang Hank Wil iams.

And, just like then, after she started singing, it hurt to listen.

But it was a beautiful pain.

I knew it hurt her to sing it just as it hurt me to hear it. She poured feeling into every song she sang but that song…

that song, she poured her soul into it and the entire club felt it. And, in a club-wide moment of shared, stunned reverence, we were al dead silent while we watched her communicate her pain.

It was arresting. As the song wove through the crowd, the lyrics a gentle assault, we al stood frozen and watched.

Then, as if from nowhere, Mace was onstage, his long legs eating the distance as he came at her. We watched as he pul ed her away from the mic, tore her guitar from her hands and then he was kissing her.

I sucked in breath at the sight of it.

It was a hungry kiss, a hard kiss, a kiss meant to be private but instead it was very, very public. I felt the kiss stirring in my bel y even though I knew I should look away.

I didn’t look away.

I couldn’t.

The crowd started to cheer, to scream, to stomp their feet.

I didn’t want to cheer. I wanted to cry but bizarrely, I also wanted to laugh.

Before I could give into either of these emotions, I saw the little red dot dancing between Stel a and Mace’s bodies.

Someone had a laser light.

Through the music-induced stupor I felt annoyance claw at me.

Who could witness this passionate emotional display and jack around with a laser light?

Then I heard Duke’s gravel y voice shout, “Gun!” Um… gun?

It came to me that wasn’t a laser light and my body jerked. As if I wasn’t in control of my own actions, instead of running or throwing myself to the ground (both of which would have been smarter), I turned to look behind me and saw Tex throwing people out of his way as he lumbered through the crowd toward a target.

“Down!” Shirleen yel ed.

I whirled back to face the stage and saw the laser light go up sharply to a point several feet over Pong’s head then I was on the floor, Shirleen’s body on top of mine.

Then the gunshots rang out.

I heard screams, shouts, running feet; it was pandemonium at the Pal adium.

The gunshots stopped, Shirleen’s weight left me and she got up, leaned down, her fingers wrapped around my wrist and she pul ed me to my feet.

“Rendez-vous!” I heard Eddie shout and my eyes flew in the direction of his voice. I saw him, gun out, other hand pointing to me. I also saw a man on the floor, Tex over him with a knee in his back. Tex had the man’s arm twisted behind him, the crowd giving them a wide berth. Further, I saw Luke had a rifle, he tossed it to Wil ie then his eyes sliced to the Rock Chicks and focused on Ava.

That’s al I saw. Hector’s arm was around my waist and he was pul ing me away. Vance was there, so were Duke, Ike and Bobby. Al of the boys had their guns in their hands and they were herding the Rock Chicks toward the back of the club.

This was not easy. There were stil tons of people fighting, pushing and running, trying to force their way out but in the opposite direction. The Hot Bunch, big, strong and carrying guns, cleared a path, often resorting to tossing people out of the way to do it.

“Stel a and Mace!” Indy shouted and my eyes flew to the stage.

Mace was up, Stel a flung over his shoulder and he was striding to the stairs, the band on his heels.

We hit the stairs as Mace made it to the bottom; he bent and put Stel a on her feet.

Stel a looked pale and shocked (but luckily alive and not covered in blood). Her wild eyes took a sweep of Mace as if searching for bul et holes. She looked up at him, opened her mouth to speak but Mace got there before her.

“Rendez-vous,” he barked at Hector and then without hesitation he turned in the direction of Tex, Luke and Wil ie.

“Mace!” Vance clipped, his tone urgent but Mace didn’t stop.

“Fuck,” Hector snarled then his head turned and he shouted, “Lee!”

I looked to where Hector’s eyes were aimed and saw Lee jump off the stage and push through the crowd on a trajectory that would take him to Mace.

“Let’s go,” Duke said, shoving us toward the back.

“What’s he gonna do?” Al y asked her eyes on Mace.