Rock Chick Regret (Rock Chick #7)(151)

Needless to say, I was not Bobby’s favorite person at that moment.

After the three hour bridal shop session, Nancy and Blanca had gone their separate ways and Jet, Bobby, Tod, Stevie and I went back to Fortnum’s to play Yahtzee. Tex, Indy, Duke and Jane (another of Indy’s employees, she was a painfully quiet, equally painfully thin and even more painfully shy woman of indeterminate age) were working. Once we arrived, Indy and Jet mostly played Yahtzee with Tod, Stevie and I. Jane disappeared into the shelves with an armload of books only to come back and get another armload and disappear again. Tex stayed at his post behind the espresso counter with a steady stream of customers he was supremely ungracious to (but, bizarrely, they didn’t seem to mind). Duke played wingman behind the espresso counter or manned the book counter when a book was sold. Finally, Shirleen arrived half an hour ago and joined the Yahtzee marathon.

Ralphie phoned in between Yahtzee games four and five to tell me he was cooking dinner for Double H and me the next night and since this was his cooking premiere, if we didn’t show, he was disowning us (his words).

Not wanting to be disowned, I called Hector to ask him about Ralphie’s invitation. He accepted without reservation, even after I explained to him that Ralphie was most definitely not the cook in the family. I also let him know I was hanging out at Fortnum’s.

Between my turns with the fake velvet lined Yahtzee cup (it was, Tod informed me, the Yahtzee “Deluxe” edition), I was struggling with the decision of which was my second best day ever, yesterday or today.

Trying on bridesmaid dresses and looking at tiaras and veils was fun and I’d never done it. And, with Tod taking charge and Nancy and Blanca not scaring me, it was good spending time with them. It was neat watching Jet with Nancy, the mother/daughter banter, the familiarity, the way they made it obvious they were close. But what was almost better was the way Blanca was with Jet, how it was clear she was already a member of the family, accepted, loved and even, sometimes (I noticed), precious.

That last part, and the hope I held in the very, very back of my mind that I’d have that too (one day), edged out yesterday as my best day.

Especially when I thought of my phone conversation with Hector that morning.

Just the thought of that phone conversation gave me goose bumps, the good kind.

I’d let my guard down. I’d let him in. I’d shared my secrets. I’d opened a small door to a little place inside me and he’d slid in. I found he not only fit, he seemed comfortable there and I liked it.

But, better, it seemed he liked being there. Not just a little, a lot.

And sensing that, the severed edges torn apart in my heart that I thought would never heal felt whole again.

“No time for Vegas,” Jet said, taking me out of my thoughts. I glanced at her and she was looking out the window then her eyes came to me. “Double H is here,” she finished on a grin.

I rolled my eyes at her use of “Double H”, turned in my seat and looked out the big, front window to see Hector slamming the door on the Bronco. Fortnum’s was on a corner and he’d parked on the cross street, opposite the store.

I watched as he caught the light just right and started to jog across the four lanes of Broadway.

He looked good jogging. Natural, cool, casual, his body at his command and I liked watching him, so much, I felt my heart start to beat a little faster and my mouth began to form a smile.

That’s when the shots rang out.

I froze, heard startled cries but my eyes stayed riveted on Hector as his body jerked, he bent over, now running, his hand going to the back of his jeans, I saw him pull out a gun.

That’s all I saw.

I was lifted bodily from the couch. This surprised me and I let out a little scream, not only because of the surprise but because I was being carried away and I couldn’t see Hector around Bobby’s big body.

“Put me down!” I yelled, squirming in his arms until I could see around his massive shoulders. I caught a glimpse of Hector crouched in front of a car in front of Fortnum’s. He pulled up slightly, arms cocked and out in front of him, pointed upward, gun hand resting in his other palm and he fired once.

I lost sight again when my bottom was planted on the book counter and, without hesitation, Bobby put a hand in my chest and gave me a shove. As I fell backward, arms wheeling around to regain balance, I noticed movement all around the store. Indy was shouting at customers to stay in the store and move to the book aisles.

Then before I fell, strong hands came to my waist and I was yanked over the other side of the counter. My feet hit the floor and Duke pressed into me until we were both hunkered down, Duke’s big body mostly covering mine.

I heard pounding feet, more cries, more gunshots and, in a panic, I tried to surge up but Duke kept solid.

“Stay still!” he ordered.

“Hector!” I shouted toward the floor (which was my forced vantage point, Duke had my head tucked down with one of his hands) and I continued to push against Duke’s bulk.

“Still!” Duke repeated, pressing into me.

“Shots fired. Fortnum’s bookstore, Bayaud and Broadway.” I heard Tex boom from across the room, obviously on the phone then in a louder boom, “Loopy Loo, don’t worry about the customers, get to cover, now!”

“Oh my God,” I breathed and Tex continued.

“Hector Chavez is the target. He’s outside with Bobby Zanzinski, both are returnin’ fire.”