Rock Chick Redemption (Page 47)
Rock Chick Redemption (Rock Chick #3)(47)
Author: Kristen Ashley
Her smile faded.
“Where’s your car?” Jet asked.
“Hank had it impounded,” I answered.
Indy’s smile came back.
“He doesn’t want me to leave,” I explained unnecessarily.
“You are so not gonna leave,” Al y said, she was smiling too.
I looked at her. “I’m gonna leave,” I said it and meant it.
“You are so not gonna leave,” Al y repeated.
Indy came closer to me. “Roxie, you should know, once, when Hank wanted a motorcycle, and his Dad told him he’d have to buy it with his own money, Hank got, like ten jobs.
He worked himself to the bone, getting up early, working late nights. He even did it and went to footbal practice and games. In the end, he got that motorcycle.”
“Hank drives a motorcycle?” I asked.
Al y ignored my question and shared her own story.
“Yeah, I remember when Hank decided he was going to buy a house in Bonnie Brae. He wanted to be close to where he grew up and have a place in a neighborhood where he could teach his kids how to ride their bikes on the sidewalks without fear of a drive-by. Property values were out the roof; no way to buy there on a cop’s salary.
Everyone expected he’d give it up. When he found his place, it was a total dump. No one wanted it except to buy it for the lot and scrape it. Hank paid more than it was worth and fixed it up himself.”
I was kind of lost in thoughts of Hank teaching his kids to ride their bikes when Daisy said, “Earth to Roxie.”
“What?” I said.
“Why do you want to leave?” Daisy asked.
“It’s too complicated to explain,” I told her.
They al looked at each other then looked at me.
“It is!” I cried.
“Whatever,” Al y said, dismissing my life’s complications with a single word. “Are you gonna go to Frightmare with us tomorrow night?”
Good God.
“Frightmare?” I asked.
“Yeah, the Haunted House in Thornton. It is the shit,” Al y said.
“I’m not good at doing scary,” I replied, thinking I’d had enough of scary in the last week, thank you very much.
“Oh, it’s al in fun,” Indy coaxed.
I turned to Indy. “Hank told me you went berserk and broke through hay bales and they had to cal the cops. That doesn’t sound like fun.”
Al y and Indy looked at each other, then burst out laughing. They were doing it so hard they doubled over with it.
Jet, Daisy and I watched them.
They final y sobered and straightened. Al y wiped a tear from her eye and muttered, “I remember that year. Good times.”
“You’re al nuts,” I told them.
“You got that right, sister,” Jet mumbled.
“Wel , I’m going. It sounds like a hoot and you could use a few giggles, am I right, Sugar?” Daisy asked, looking at me.
She was right. Too right. Scary right.
“Okay, fine,” I gave in. “My friends Annette and Jason are in town. Can they come?”
“The more, the merrier,” Al y, clearly the Haunted House ringleader, said.
Again, I knew I was in trouble but this was a different kind of trouble.
A tal , very thin woman turned the corner at the back of the shelves, carrying an armload of books. She jerked to a halt when she saw us, obviously she’d been in her own world.
“Hi,” she said, surprise at the existence of other human beings on the earth stil on her face.
“Hi,” we al said back.
She waited a beat and then said to me, “Glad you’re okay.”
I blinked at her. I had no idea who this woman was.
“Thanks,” I said.
She shelved a book and wandered away.
“Who was that?” I asked Indy.
“That’s Jane, she’s worked here for years. She’s kind of… odd,” Indy replied.
Uncle Tex had told me about Jane. Quiet, addicted to romance and detective novels. Her life was devoted to Fortnum’s, reading, writing her own novels that were never published and not much else.
Daisy grabbed my hand, taking my mind off Jane.
“How’s everything else? You hangin’ in there?” Her cornflower blue eyes were kind but sharp. I knew from just her look she didn’t miss a trick.
I told them about seeing the vision of Bil y in Hank’s bedroom that morning. I finished with, “Hank said it was a flashback.”
Jet, Al y and Indy watched me, al smiles gone; they were looking concerned.
Daisy, on the other hand, nodded.
“Yeah, I got those after I was raped,” she replied.
My hand clenched in hers.
“You were raped?” I whispered.
“Long time ago. Flashbacks lasted awhile but they went away. The mind heals just like the body, but it takes its time.
It’s good you got a decent man to see you through it.
Helped me that, during that time, I found my Marcus.” I sighed.
No one believed me when I said I was leaving town and I knew they wouldn’t believe me when I told them Hank wasn’t my man, so I stayed silent.
Then we heard a shout from the front of the store.
“Jumpin’ Jehosafats! This place is f**kin’ great! ” That would be Annette.
Al the girls’ faces were frozen with incredulity at the yel .
“That’s my friend, Annette,” I told them, broke away and walked to the front.
Annette and Jason were standing a few feet inside the door. Jason was Annette’s partner, same height as Annette, light brown hair and dark brown eyes. He always smiled like he meant it and was never in a bad mood.
Annette and Jason looked at me when I arrived and I realized Jason could have bad moods under extreme circumstances because the minute he saw me, his face went hard.
Annette stared.
“Hey,” I said, smiling at them.
Annette looked at Jason, then turned on her heel and walked out the door.
On the sidewalk outside, hands clenched and arms straight, she threw her head back and screamed at the top of her lungs. Then she started kicking the sidewalk like she was kicking dirt and punching the air like she was hitting a punching bag, al the while emitting loud, nonsensical, angry mutterings.
I turned to al the folks in Fortnum’s.
“She’s a little crazy,” I said.
No one said a word, they were al staring out the door.
Annette walked back in.
“I’m gonna kill that motherfucker,” she announced.
“I think that’s the consensus,” I told her.