Rock Chick Redemption (Rock Chick #3)(48)

“Hang on there, Chica,” he said, grabbing me by the waistband of my skirt. It was quite a catch since my skirt was so tight. He must have had a lot of practice doing that.

I stopped and glared at him. “What?”

He looked down at me, his eyes stil kind of glittery and I could tel he was making up his mind about something.

Final y he said, “I think I need to have a chat with Hank.”

“Don’t do me any favors,” I snapped. “Hank’s a memory too. I’m going to file charges, get my car and blow this crazy burg. Denver is Looney Tunes Town. I don’t care if it’s October and feels like July and I can see the mountains every day. This place is nuts and since I’m half MacMil an, coming from me, that’s saying something.”

Once I finished, I pul ed away and stomped into the station.

My Mom would have been proud.

* * * * *

The room was fil ed with desks, chairs, couches and people. Most of the people stared at me openly when I arrived. I ignored this, straightened my shoulders and fol owed Eddie to a desk. Al around me was a hive of activity, people walking around, talking, phones ringing, doors opening and closing. Eddie sat me next to a desk so I could talk to a nice, older man named Detective Jimmy Marker.

I told my story while Eddie stood beside us, watching I told my story while Eddie stood beside us, watching and listening.

Every once in awhile I’d look at Eddie. Sometimes I scowled at him. Sometimes I’d raise my brows in the silent question of, “Don’t you have anything better to do?” After about the third eyebrow raise, he smiled at me like I was funny.

Fucking, crazy, Denver men.

Around about the end of when Detective Marker was taking my statement, I felt Eddie tense.

I scowled up at him, but he wasn’t looking at me, he was looking toward the door.

I fol owed his gaze and stopped breathing.

Hank, Lee and Vance were standing in the door, al of them looking at me.

Hank’s eyes were blank. Lee’s were the same.

Vance grinned at me.

With a super human effort, I ignored Hank and Lee and grinned back at Vance.

“Excuse me,” Eddie murmured and walked away.

I turned to Detective Marker. “Do you have everything you need?” I asked.

“Yep,” he said, but he was looking at Hank too and, for some bizarre reason, he was smiling, smiling huge, like he found something supremely hilarious.

I was so total y right about Denver being a loony bin; everyone was crazy.

“You have my card?” Detective Marker asked after he’d looked back at me.

I nodded. “I may be on the road, you’l have to cal my cel I nodded. “I may be on the road, you’l have to cal my cel if you need anything else.”

“You’l come back to testify?” he asked.

I gave him a look.

“You’l come back to testify,” he muttered.

I got up, shook his hand, hooked my purse over my shoulder and walked across the room.

Everyone in the room watched.

Hank, Lee, Eddie and Vance were in a huddle. Vance broke off and walked over to me. The other three turned to look.

“Hey, girl,” Vance said when he arrived in my space, seriously in my space.

I didn’t back away.

“Hey. I need a ride back to Tex’s. Can you take me?” I asked him.

“First, I’l take you to lunch.”

I didn’t want lunch. I hadn’t had breakfast or even any coffee but my stomach was clenched tight knowing Hank’s eyes were on me. I was torn between throwing myself at his feet and begging him to understand, and jumping on him and scratching his eyes out.

Instead, I kept my eyes on Vance and said, “Sounds good.”

Vance turned to The Huddle.

“Keys,” he cal ed to Lee.

Lee threw him a set of keys and Vance caught them. I avoided Hank’s gaze.

Then Vance grabbed my hand and we walked out.

I was concentrating so hard on not tripping or doing anything else idiotic that I didn’t realize the pulse of the room had changed when Vance grabbed my hand.

I also didn’t catch the look on Hank’s face when he saw Vance take my hand, which was good because if I had, I would have tripped for sure.

* * * * *

Vance took me to Lincoln’s Road House, a motorcycle bar skirting an off-road on I-25. He settled me at a high barstool at a table. I glanced around, thinking that perhaps I should have changed my outfit. Denver was definitely a jeans town and, at Lincoln’s Road House, jeans were practical y required.

I noted that optional were black leather chaps.

Vance bought me a beer, a pop for himself, got some menus and sat across from me.

“How’re you doin’?” he asked, watching me closely.

“My life’s a total shambles, my body stil aches and I’m pretty certain I’m going to have a scar on my face to remind me daily of this precious time in my life,” I told him. “How’re things with you?”

“Better than you.”

“Vance, honey, that isn’t saying much.”

He smiled.

I crossed my legs, looked at my menu and noticed Vance move out of the corner of my eye. I glanced at him but he was looking over my shoulder.

I turned around and saw Mace enter the bar from the back.