Rock Chick Redemption (Rock Chick #3)(61)

Daisy executed what could only be described as a Bo-and-Luke-Duke-General-Lee stop on a squeal with the back half of the Mercedes swinging around and rocking to a halt. The red truck came in behind us. Annette’s Subaru fol owing it.

Two squad cars flew out of another exit; sirens and lights flashing.

Eddie didn’t bother to park. He stopped behind us, got out of the truck, Jet getting out the other side. She immediately started running toward the entrance of the police station, Indy was there, holding the door for her.

Eddie jogged toward us.

Daisy and I climbed out of the car.

“Get into the station. Now,” Eddie demanded and I

“Get into the station. Now,” Eddie demanded and I realized Jet and Indy already had their orders.

Daisy and I didn’t quibble. She threw her keys to Eddie, he caught them in midair and we hoofed it into the station, joining Jet and Indy. Annette and Jason came in not a minute later.

“What the f**k just happened?” Jason snapped.

Okay, so I’d learned of another situation that could take away Jason’s good mood.

I told them about the bad guys.

“Those f**kers shot my Mercedes,” Daisy said when I was done talking. She was shaking, maybe with rage but I figured it was something else.

I put my arms around her and she reciprocated the gesture.

“Those f**kers shot my Mercedes,” she whispered.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered back, feeling the weight of her fear settling firmly on my shoulders.

She held on.

Eddie walked in. His dark eyes, glittering with anger, went first to Jet and then they came to me.

“You okay?” he asked me.

I nodded.

“Daisy?” he said.

She took her cheek from my chest and nodded, but she didn’t let me go.

Eddie watched her a beat and then said, “I’l cal Marcus.”

Something changed in the air. I saw it in Daisy’s face and in Jet’s but I didn’t know what it was. Then Eddie looked at me. “You know those guys?”

I shook my head but said, “They took Bil y.”

“Bil y isn’t with them now,” he noted.

I just stared at him.

“Fuck,” Eddie finished.

He could say that again.

* * * * *

I was sitting on a couch in the room where I gave my statement to Detective Marker. Daisy was by the door, being held by a good-looking, dark-haired man that I knew had to be her husband, Marcus. He was ignoring some very weird looks he was getting from al the cops in the room.

Indy was six feet away, talking to some handsome black man in uniform. Jason was standing with them, his face stil had not morphed back to the good-natured Jason I knew.

Jet was sitting on one side of me, Annette on the other and we were al holding hands.

Eddie was talking on the phone.

Then, some guy who was on another phone said, “Yo, Eddie!”

Eddie put his hand over the receiver and lifted his chin.

“Hank got ‘em,” the guy said.

Eddie’s eyes slid to me.

“Thank the goddess,” Annette breathed.

I stared at Eddie and felt my chest squeeze.

Before, I thought I was leaving town to guard my heart.

Now, I had to leave town to guard my friends.

* * * * *

What seemed like forever later, Hank and Al y walked into the room. Al y had been in the 4Runner with Hank and he’d taken her with him, hel bent on going after the bad guys. This was talked about by the cops like it wasn’t a big deal and I got the impression they al knew Al y was the kind of girl who could handle herself in a crisis.

I could tel from across the room that Hank’s body was taut, he was wired and he was seriously and completely pissed off.

He scanned the room until his eyes fel on me and then he came straight to me.

I got up from the couch.

He stopped in front of me, toe-to-toe, total y in my space.

He tilted his head down and looked me directly in the eye.

“You’re stayin’,” he declared in his authoritative voice.

Shit.

Chapter Fourteen

“She’s the One”

I was lying on top of the covers of Hank’s bed, wearing my dusty lilac, stretchy nightie with the black lace on the bodice and hem. It was a little risqué for hanging out in Hank,

the-guy-who-I-was-tel ing-myself-I-was-trying-to-shake’s bedroom but f**k it, these days risqué was my middle name.

Shamus was lying on his bel y beside me. His head on my stomach, his eyes closed, content as I scratched his ears. “Born to Run” was playing on the stereo in Hank’s bedroom and I’d just finished writing a letter to a friend in Atlanta (but did not share any of the recent goings-on; that would have to be a phone cal ).

I had put my stationery aside and I was staring at the ceiling and trying to decide how my life had descended into such madness (and obviously avoiding blaming myself in an attempt to save what was left of my sanity). It was like someone in a suit walked up to me and gave me a certificate, which stated “Roxanne Gisel e Logan, Your Life is Fucked”.

* * * * *

I’d spent the afternoon at the police station. First, they took everyone’s statement, then, Daisy and I identified the two bad guys in a line up. It gave me a chil up my spine to see Sink Man again; so close he seemed right there.