Rock Chick Rescue (Rock Chick #2)(45)

“What’s goin’ on out here? Jet! Ohmigod! Look at your hair. It looks great!”

She rushed forward, always a bundle of energy, and gave me a tight hug.

“It’s been too long,” she said and then her pleasure at seeing me started to dissolve as she looked around, took in Indy, Al y and especial y Tex. Everyone stared at Tex. Tex was a sight to see.

Then her gaze settled on Bear.

“What’s goin’ on?” she asked again, reading the situation like only a mother, or the wife of Bear, would.

“Nothin’,” Bear said.

“I’m lookin’ for Dad,” I said at the same time.

Lavonne looked at me.

“Your Dad was here just this morning. Hasn’t he been to see you?”

I looked at Indy. Indy looked at Al y. Al y looked at Tex.

Tex looked at me.

“What’s goin’ on?” Lavonne asked for the third time.

“Can we come inside?” I said.

Lavonne’s mouth tightened, she turned and we al fol owed her inside.

The inside of Lavonne and Bear’s house could not have been more different from the outside. Lavonne had strict rules about what was a woman’s domain and what was a man’s. The man tended the yard, garbage and car. The woman tended the house, food and laundry.

Lavonne’s living room was neat and tidy and overly decorated in hearts. There were bent twig hearts on the wal s tucked with dried flowers, heart wreaths, little painted-wooden hearts, heart toss pil ows on the couch, heart frames fil ed with pictures of her kids.

I did a round of introductions, Bear sat on the sofa, Indy and Al y took armchairs and I stayed standing. Tex positioned himself close to me, like a guard. Lavonne stood by Bear and lit a cigarette.

Everyone listened to my latest tale of woe.

Then Lavonne’s hand streaked out and she flicked Bear upside the head using her middle finger propel ed by her thumb.

“Yo woman!” Bear yel ed, arching away from her.

Lavonne turned to me and said, “Ray’s been stayin’ here the last two nights. I didn’t know any of this was goin’ on.” Lavonne’s tone said Lavonne was pretty unhappy.

Then Lavonne’s hand came out and she flicked Bear again.

“I said yo!” Bear shouted.

She had one hand on her hip, the other one holding the cigarette aloft and the glare she directed toward Bear was evil.

“What’s this al about, Bear? And I’m warnin’ you, you spil or this time I ain’t leavin’. This time, I’m packin’ your bags.”

This was clearly not an idle threat because, without any delay, Bear started talking.

“Gambling.” Bear looked up at me, “Your Dad’s been gambling. Got himself in a financial situation, so he went to Slick, who’s a loan shark.”

I sank down on the arm of one of the armchairs, next to Al y, hopping to get my heart started again.

“He had a windfal a couple days ago, bought himself into another game to make back the money he owes Slick.

Instead, he lost and now he owes Marcus.” Tex, Al y and Indy looked at each other.

I didn’t know what their look meant but I’d worry about that later. I already had too much to worry about.

The windfal Dad had was my hard-earned five hundred bucks.

I felt like crying.

“How much does he owe this Marcus?” I asked.

“Fifteen grand.”

Al y’s hand came out and grabbed mine.

Fifteen grand? How did five hundred pocket money become a debt of fifteen grand? That was forty-five thousand dol ars in total. Even if I started stripping, sold everything I owned and sold my plasma every month for a year, I couldn’t come up with forty-five thousand dol ars.

Lavonne flicked Bear again.

“Why didn’t you tel her this yesterday? And where’s Ray now?” she snapped.

“Ray asked me to keep it quiet and he’s out tryin’ to fix it.” Bear’s eyes swung to me, “I swear, Jet, he’s tryin’ to fix it.”

I stood up and shouted.

“How? Gambling? Stealing? He’s sure as hel not going to get a job waiting tables at Bennigan’s and make that kind of cabbage!”

Bear stood up too.

“He’s tryin’ to do right!”

Lavonne reached high and flicked him.

“Don’t yel at Jet,” she snapped.

Everyone looked at Bear and Bear’s face got red, then he exploded.

“Why is everyone mad at me? I didn’t get forty-five K in the hole playin’ poker. It ain’t my fault.” Then he decided the smart way forward was to deflect attention from himself,

“Anyway, Jet’s workin’ at a titty bar.”

Damn.

Everyone held their breath as Lavonne’s wide, angry eyes turned to me.

“Excuse me?”

“Lavonne—” I started but she interrupted me.

“You’re workin’ at a titty bar?”

Wonderful.

“I’m not dancing, just waiting tables,” I assured her.

Lavonne didn’t feel assured.

“A titty bar’s a titty bar. You’re not the type of girl who works at a titty bar. I know your mama didn’t raise you like that,” she retorted.