Rock Chick Renegade (Rock Chick #4)(141)
So I didn’t do any of these things.
I should have.
* * * * *
Bobby
Bobby Zanzinski hated night-time surveillance. All of the Nightingale Men hated night-time surveillance (except Jack, though Jack was kind of a weird guy).
Night-time surveillance was boring as hell. It meant Fortnum’s was closed and Vance was normally at Jules’s (or Jules was asleep) so you couldn’t watch her wandering around saying stupid shit to her cat.
Bobby could watch Jules for hours, any of them could, that woman was smokin’.
He sat in the surveillance room and came instantly alert when Hector Chavez approached the house. Bobby watched Hector break into Law’s duplex then disable her alarm.
“Fuck,” he muttered.
He knew who Hector was but Bobby was still alarmed. Those deep cover DEA guys were nuts, pure and simple. Fuck knew why Hector was breaking in, so Bobby leaned forward and turned up the volume to her speakers and got ready to call Vance.
As he reached for the phone, on another monitor Bobby saw Vance drive into the underground parking area. Vance would come up and drop the keys.
Bobby decided to wait and tell him when he got there.
Lord knows The Law can take care of herself, Bobby thought on a smile.
* * * * *
Shirleen
Shirleen heard her phone ringing; she rolled, reached out, grabbed it and put it to her ear.
“This better be good,” she mumbled.
“Aunt Shirleen,” Darius said in her ear.
Shirleen came instantly awake and sober. “What’s up, son?”
“Got word. Shard’s back.”
Shirleen felt a chill snake down her spine. Anyone with an ear to the ground knew what was on Shard’s mind, namely making Jules pay.
“I thought Lee’s boys –” Shirleen started.
“Shard’s back and he’s pissed. He’s goin’ after Law’s kids. Gonna draw her out.”
Shirleen threw back her purple, satin covers. “Call Lee,” she ordered.
“I’ll take care of it. I’ve got some boys out lookin’ for him.”
“No, boy. You call Lee. Let the professionals handle this.”
“Aunt Shirleen.”
“Boy –”
“I’ll handle it.”
Disconnect.
Shirleen stared at the phone in the darkness for two seconds. Then she turned on the light and ran to her desk to find Daisy’s home number.
* * * * *
Sniff
Sniff was running. He was running, crying, snot coming out of his nose, breathing heavy.
He had to get to Law. He had to get to her. He had to get to her now.
When Cordova took Roam, Sniff had seen it. He’d followed them, knowing that Cordova was an idiot and an ass**le. Roam could handle Cordova. Hell, their geeky tutor Stu could handle Cordova. Sniff could even handle Cordova.
Sniff had caught a ride with some Mexican gang-bangers he knew who put up with Sniff because they thought he was funny. They took him to Cordova’s place then they’d peeled out, leaving him there.
Sniff had approached the house thinking to get a giggle while Roam kicked Cordova’s ass and when he saw what he saw through the window, he’d taken off.
He was so freaked out, he’d dropped his f**king, f**king (and he vowed to himself he’d never say “f*cking” again if Law got Roam out of this) phone somewhere along the way and as usual he had no money to make a pay call.
A car came down the street and he stopped and put out his arm to flag it down, desperate, shouting.
The car passed him.
Without hesitation, he kept running and trying to keep the vision of Roam, bloody and what Sniff hoped was only unconscious, out of his brain.
Worse still, the vision of a dead Cordova.
It wasn’t working.
Sniff turned onto Colfax, running down the busier street, hoping he could flag down a ride.
He was miles away from Law, he’d never make it.
He saw a black Porsche pass him, the brake lights lit and then the Porsche pulled over. Sniff ran toward it, opening his mouth to yell when the door opened and Luke Stark knifed out the driver’s side.
Sniff could have jumped for joy.
Instead he stopped and as Luke approached him he doubled over, a stitch in his side, and sucked in breath.
“Sniff,” Luke put a hand to the back of his neck.
Sniff looked up at him, not caring even a little bit that this super cool guy was going to see his tears and snot and Sniff said, “We gotta find Law.”
Stark took one look at Sniff’s face and his own went hard in such a way that Sniff felt a thrill of fear mingled with hope.
“Get in the car,” Stark ordered.
Sniff ran to the car.
* * * * *
Roam
Roam was awake but pretending to be out.
Cordova was dead. Shard had shot him, like, seven times. Right in front of Roam. Roam had never seen so much blood in his life and Roam had seen a lot of shit in his life, including blood, including his own but not that much.
Roam had not put up much of a fuss when Cordova took him at gunpoint to his house, mumbling stupid shit about making Law pay, getting her attention. Roam figured he’d find some way out of it. Anyway, he knew Sniff had seen them and Sniff would call Law. His idiot, big-mouth friend had done it before, he’d do it again. Everyone knew Law could handle Cordova; she could handle just about anyone.