Rock Chick Reckoning (Rock Chick #6)(71)

Shitsof*ckit!

My eyes caught on Shirleen and Daisy, who were sandwiching Dixon Jones, al of them on the edge of the crowd, al of them looking at me. Shirleen and Daisy were smiling. Dixon Jones again looked confused.

My effing stupid shitty luck!

“I’m not usual y like this,” I told Dixon.

Dixon’s body lurched like he was in a trance and my words snapped him out of it.

I noticed the band pushing in close, Vance’s arm dropped from around my waist and I took a step away.

“Holy shit, Stel a Bel a. We’re cal ing you Ramba from now on! You the wo-man!” Pong yel ed.

“Guess we don’t need Mace as muscle anymore,” Leo noted. “We got Stel a.”

“Next time, pick a girl to jump on,” Hugo advised.

I rol ed my eyes to the ceiling.

“One thing you can say, Stel a Gunn,” Dixon remarked, now his mouth was twitching. “You’re pure, f**kin’ rock ‘n’

rol .”

I didn’t know if that was good, or bad.

Since pure rock ‘n’ rol , to me, was a positive thing, I decided to take that as good.

I tossed my hair and smiled at him.

His eyes shifted to my hair and watched it move then they came back to mine and he lost the fight with his smile and it went wide.

“Show’s over,” Mace, al of a sudden there, announced.

“Fuckin’ A but what a show!” Tex boomed, also al of a sudden there. He got close to me and dropped a huge hand to top of my head. “Girl, you are the shit! You can burn through Mol y Hatchett and take care of business. Fuckin’

A!” he repeated, taking his hand from my head then, not done, boomed, “God damn! ” Then, obviously in the throes of a Rock Moment, he turned to the crowd and shouted,

“Do we love The Gypsies?”

The crowd, mostly watching in bewilderment (I’d never done a stage dive to end a show so they were uncertain at the state of affairs), gave a feeble cheer.

“Fuck that!” Tex roared, throwing his arm up to punch the air. “Do we love The Gypsies? ”

Catching on, the crowd cheered back, stronger now.

There was some scattered applause that started to grow then grow some more, a few shouted “Yippee kay yay” and then the chants of “Gypsies” began.

Oh dear.

“Awesome,” Pong breathed from beside me, his eyes moving over the chanting crowd.

Mace’s hand tagged mine. I looked up at him and knew in an instant he was done.

“We’re outta here,” he declared, proving me right and started shoving his way through the crowd, pul ing me along with him.

As we went, people pressed in. Wound up by the show, its bizarre ending and Tex, they were in a tizzy. So much so, I felt hands on me. People were grabbing at my t-shirt, trying to tag my belt loops, I felt fingers slide through my hair and I watched the same thing happening to Mace.

They were closing in, caught in the moment, making it hard for even Mace to shove his way through.

I felt fear begin to seize me, scared sil y at a new threat.

My fans, rocked by the show, reading the papers, knowing the danger, wound up by Tex, al of that pushing them to the brink. I feared they’d tear us to shreds.

Mace stopped, turned, bent, put his shoulder in my bel y and then I was going up. I ended bent double over his shoulder, his arm wrapped around the backs of my thighs.

Using his other arm and shoulder to push his way through the crowd, people went flying as I saw the flash of cameras coming one right after the other.

Beautiful.

I wondered if those pictures would make front page too.

Luke, Lee, Vance, Hector, Eddie and Duke al moved in to flank us and Mace didn’t stop until we hit the backstage door. With my head lifted, I watched the Hot Bunch close ranks behind us, stopping the crowd, right before the door closed behind Mace and me.

That was how we made our dramatic exit.

Mace put me down in front of the backdoor to the club and shoved it open. Darius materialized from the shadows, did a chin lift, a scan of the area and vaporized into the shadows again.

Mace pushed me in the passenger seat of one of the four black Explorers parked in the al ey. He got in the driver’s side and we took off.

I held myself stiff, wondering at his mood which, figuring this was Mace, was probably not happy.

I glanced to the side and saw he was smiling ful on, white teeth and al .

“Why are you smiling?” I asked.

He looked at me then back at the road, his smile not wavering.

Then he answered, “I’ve decided I like your set list, Kitten.”

“You do?”

“Yeah,” he said then expanded on his answer. “Not one f**kin’ song you played tonight had anything to do with the word ‘black’.”

Shitsof*ckit!

I total y forgot!

Chapter Thirteen

You Want In Here?

Stella

The minute we got back to my place, Mace took Juno out for a bathroom break.

I took the fastest shower in history.

I did not need to be na**d with Mace in the house.

Further, Mace and I needed to talk.

It was time. No more effing around.

It was three o’clock in the morning and I was exhausted, coasting on fumes from the high of the gig not to mention my ridiculous, gig-ending stage dive, a memory which I knew would be cringe-worthy for the rest of my effing life.