Rock Chick Redemption (Rock Chick #3)(130)

I’d felt it days before, when Daisy got shot at when she was with me. But now, it had intensified. It was something different, something more immediate, visceral. Something not to be borne.

“They know ‘bout Bil y?” Shirleen asked, cutting into my thoughts.

I nodded.

“Al of ‘em?” she went on.

I nodded again.

“Then they know what they’re gettin’ into,” Shirleen declared decisively. “Trust Shirleen, child. Lotta folk would stand clear from a girl like you, leave you to go it alone, best as you could. And, I’m tel in’ it to you straight, if this Bil y is as much of a crazy motherf*cker as he sounds and even as strong as you are, I’m guessin’ the best you could do would fail. He’d end up hurtin’ you or turnin’ you and neither of those things are good.” I felt my blood turn to ice and I stared at Shirleen. She kept talking. “These folk don’t stand clear. Says a lot. Don’t let it mess with your head.

From what I hear of your people, you’l eventual y have your chance to settle the score.”

I couldn’t say I liked the sound of that.

Shirleen’s eyes had been clear and focused, but something drifted across them and her gaze left me. “I’m not ashamed to tel you, Shirleen has always had a soft spot for that boy,” Shirleen murmured, almost as if I wasn’t there.

She was staring at the place we last saw Hank and I could tel immediately that she’d slipped into another place.

I felt something strange coming from her, something immensely sad, almost to the point of longing.

I stood stock-stil as she continued. “He was a good kid, through and through. Good son to his parents, good brother, good friend to my nephew Darius. Things changed, for me, for Darius. Hank never changed. He tried, harder ‘n’

hel , more even than Lee and Eddie, to pul Darius back, to save him…”

She stopped on a whoosh of air, as if she’d been sucker punched in the gut. I was confused, not knowing what she was talking about but I had no chance to ask and I had the feeling she wouldn’t have told me anyway.

She carried on. “I know where his head’s at, so does Darius. We know where he stands. Even so… even so…” her voice had dropped to a whisper, so low, it was almost like she was chanting. “Even so, I admire it. If I’d had me a boy of my own, I’d want him to be just like Hank.” I felt her words hit me somewhere private, somewhere I didn’t even know existed. Somewhere that was a place that only women like me had. Women like me, which was I suspected, women like Daisy. I was also guessing (correctly, even though I didn’t know it at the time), women like Shirleen. Women who’d experienced bad things at the hands of men they’d opened their hearts to and women who hoped for something good to fol ow.

Daisy had found hers in Marcus, even though he was who he was to the world; he was something else to her.

I’d found my good in Hank.

Shirleen, wel , I didn’t know about Shirleen but I suspected she was no longer looking. Instead her longing was the saving grace of a child, a child just like Hank.

Tears hit my eyes and my hand reached out, found hers and I held on tight. I could only guess that I was correct at what was causing her emotion. What I did know, it was there and she was letting me see it. I also knew instinctively, this emotional display didn’t happen often.

She squeezed my hand and then pul ed hers away and downed her glass of champagne.

“I’m dry,” she announced, breaking the mood and not even looking at me. “Where’s that boy with the champagne?” she was looking around. “Hey! You!” she yel ed then walked away from me to pounce on a waiter with a tray of champagne.

She didn’t look back.

I didn’t get a chance to process her words because I felt a touch on the skin at the smal of my back. It was so light, there and then gone, it was almost like I imagined it. When I turned to see if it was real, I got an eye-ful of a tanned throat coming out of a light gray shirt surrounded by a black suit.

I looked up.

Luke.

“Where’s Hank?” he asked, deciding against any unnecessary pleasantries like “Hel o”. He was scanning the crowd and looking unhappy. I’d never seen Luke look unhappy. Mostly, he just looked hot or sometimes amused (which was just another form of hot). Now he looked plain, old unhappy (which was also somehow hot).

“He’s talking to Marcus.” I replied then went on. “You look nice,” and I moved a bit away from him mainly because he did look nice, real y nice.

His arms were at his sides. When I moved away, his hand came out to curl around my waist and he pul ed me back to him. I figured this was part of his not-outside-touching-distance bodyguard gig and decided to reassure him. “It’s okay, Luke. Hank’s here somewhere and Lee’s keeping an eye on me.”

I heard a cel phone ring somewhere but I ignored it because Luke looked down at me.

“You don’t move away from me. We’re findin’ Hank.

Now,” he ordered.

Immediately at his words and his tone, I felt fear crawl along my skin.

“What’s happening?” I asked.

Luke wasn’t looking at me anymore; he was looking across the room. I fol owed his gaze and saw Lee, cel to his ear, his eyes on Luke. Lee’s face was tight and he jerked his head towards the door. At the same time, he was repositioning Indy, moving her around to face one of the several doors leading out of the room. She looked up at Lee questioningly but that’s al I saw as Luke’s fingers pressed into my waist insistently.