Rock Chick Renegade (Rock Chick #4)(75)

“This isn’t going to work,” I said, as if that was an explanation.

“Why?” he obviously realized it wasn’t an explanation.

Because I like you a lot. Because you’re beautiful and strong and make me feel things I can’t allow myself to feel. Because you listen to me in the moonlight like every word I say forms a drop of nectar. Because you’ve lived a shit life and come out the other side to be someone amazing. Because now you live a dangerous life with a scar on your back to prove it and I can’t afford to lose anyone else that means something to me, I thought.

“I can’t explain it,” I said.

“Try.” His voice was beyond impatience now, it was short and clipped.

“Okay then, I’m not going to explain it because I don’t have to. It just isn’t going to work.”

More silence and I could actually feel the anger coming through the phone.

Then he said, “You’re mine tonight.”

My belly fluttered. “Vance.”

“Tomorrow it’s over. Tonight you’re mine.”

“That isn’t smart.”

“I don’t give a f**k.”

“I really don’t think –”

“I’ll be at your house at five to eight. We’re on the Harley tonight. Pack a bag.”

“Really, I think, after the party –”

“You’re in my bed tonight. I want your scent on my sheets.”

Oh my God.

“Vance,” I said again, this time it sounded like a plea.

“Five to eight,” he repeated.

Then he disconnected.

I stood there, back to the door and kept the dead phone to my ear.

Then I slid down the door, ass to the floor, knees pointed to the ceiling, hands on my knees and I stared into space, forcing my mind blank, telling myself I could do this and tomorrow it would be over and my life would be back to normal.

Myself didn’t really believe I could do this and it didn’t much like the idea of normal.

Chapter Fifteen

You Got a New Partner Now

I was on my back on the mat on the floor in the “down room” at the Nightingale Investigations office.

It was a big room with a couch, TV, treadmill, weights and an exercise bike and the guys used it for down time or when they were hanging around on call (only the bad boys at Nightingale Investigations would call a room with workout equipment the “down room”).

And of course the mat on the floor where Luke was kicking my ass.

“You’re not focused,” Luke said, standing over me, staring down at me, hands on his hips.

He was right, I wasn’t focused. My mind was everywhere but there. Heavy would be disappointed.

Luke was good. He knew far more moves than Heavy, was stronger, faster and constantly surprising me. Still, even as a novice I knew more than I was showing.

“Get your head in the game,” Luke continued, bending and offering me his hand to help me up for about the twenty-fourth time.

I nodded mutely, locked my fingers around his wrist, put my other hand to his forearm and then I gave a solid jerk, hoping to take him by surprise and take him down just once for the sake of my pride.

His feet were planted. He stood strong only his arm and shoulder moving with my jerk which was disappointing. The corner of his lip went up on one side, he yanked me up and I found my feet. I immediately shifted my weight to one leg, threw my other calf around the backs of his and tagged him behind the knees. They buckled but he released my hand, his other arm went around my waist and he twisted.

We both went down, his arm tightened around my waist, the other hand went out to shield our fall. I landed in a poor strategic position on my back, him on top of me, his full weight pressing me into the mat. My legs were incapacitated and if he hadn’t cushioned our fall my head would have slammed against the mat and his weight would have knocked the wind out of me.

His head came up and he gave me a half-grin. “Better,” he said.

“Thanks,” I said back.

“You’re still f**ked.”

“I kinda noticed that,” I told him.

“Don’t go out on the street with your mind on the mall.”

“My mind isn’t on the mall. I’ve already done the mall and my party outfit is brilliant.”

He just stared at me looking like he might laugh and I noticed his dark eyes weren’t brown or black like I thought. They were a deep, dark blue.

Wow.

“You wanna get up?” I asked, pushing thoughts about his eyes to the very back recesses of my mind so as never to pull them up again and placing my hands on his biceps to push him.

“Not particularly,” he said casually like he could lie on top of me all night which he probably could.

Hmm.

Not good.

“Well, I want you to get up,” I said.

“It’s good to want things.”

“Luke, get off me.”

“How solid are you and Vance?” he asked.

It was my turn to stare. “Why?”

“Just answer the question.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause I’m thinkin’ not many men want their woman roaming the streets at night lookin’ for trouble, no matter if she can handle a gun and herself. I don’t see a good future for you two unless you get your ass back to that Shelter and your mind on what you really can do to help those kids.”