Rock Chick Rescue (Rock Chick #2)(58)

I considered scratching his eyes out. Then I thought that probably wasn’t very nice, I mean, he just spent, like, a thousand dol ars on my piece of shit car.

Then I considered screaming. But I decided to reserve my energy. Who knew what was going to happen next and I needed to be prepared.

So, instead, I stomped to the truck. I wrenched open the door to get the grocery bags but I was pul ed out of the way and the door was shut by Eddie.

That was it, I could take no more, and I whirled around to face him.

“I’l pay you back, every penny. The minute we get upstairs, I’l write you a check.”

It would almost break the bank but I was going to do it.

“I’m not gonna take your money,” he said.

“You are. I don’t like to be indebted to anyone.” Especially not you, I thought but did not say.

Especially not you, I thought but did not say.

His hand went to my bel y and he pushed me gently against the truck.

“That’s the point. I want you indebted to me.” He what?

“You what?” I yel ed.

He closed in and I had nowhere to retreat. Anyway, I was too freaked out to retreat.

“If you’re indebted to me, you’re connected to me.

Whatever makes you take care of your Mom, your Dad, kids getting chemo and friends who make bad decisions on who to date is gonna make you stay connected to me because you owe me. You aren’t connected to me, the minute this is al over with your Dad, you’re gone. I’m makin’

certain that doesn’t happen.”

I didn’t know what to say. He’d total y figured me out.

How did that happen?

Nevertheless, I tried to speak.

“I… you…”

He cut me off, bent his head closer and started talking. I could smel him and I could feel his heat and I had to admit, it was getting to me.

“Whatever your next disaster, I’m gonna be there. Buying your groceries, fixin’ your car, dealin’ with your Dad, I don’t give a f**k. I want you to owe me, it gives me the upper hand and I’m gonna need the upper hand to wear you down. And Jet…”

He stopped, he was looking into my eyes and he had that look he had this morning, after Mom and Lavonne came home and before I walked out of my room. The look made my bel y feel funny and my knees get weak.

“What?” I asked. Honestly the suspense was kil ing me.

“There’s one thing today proved.”

He moved in even closer, his body was brushing mine and his face was an inch away.

“What?” I kind of shouted. What could I say? It’d been a rough day; I was close to losing it.

“Whatever happens, you’re worth it and I don’t want to hear you say again that you’re not. Get me?” I felt that warm strangeness hit me and I had no choice but to nod.

Chapter Eleven

Dinner at My Place

“I’l get it!” Mom yel ed.

I was in the kitchen, finishing dinner, freaking out and I knew Eddie was at the door. He’d left after helping me bring up the groceries, saying he had things to do. I was glad for the break. He was getting to me, wearing me down like he said he would, and I needed to regroup.

I’d done my chores and then got ready for Smithie’s so I was in my slut makeup but wearing my day outfit. I’d change into my Smithie’s uniform at the very last minute.

Mom had gone weirdly quiet, sensing my mood, but also, I thought, she was up to something. I couldn’t worry about it. I had enough worries to last a lifetime.

Mom wheeled into the door of the kitchen. She’d overtaxed herself that day and I could see the exhaustion in her face. Nonetheless, she wasn’t missing tonight, no way, no how. When I told her Eddie was coming to dinner, she’d put both her hands to her cheeks, her mouth dropped open and tears fil ed her eyes. Such was the reaction of Moms with big dreams for their daughters when hot guys with good jobs and fancy trucks came over to dinner.

I decided to wait to tel her we were going to Blanca’s tomorrow. She was already residing on cloud nine, it was too soon for a promotion to cloud ten.

“Eddie’s here,” she told me unnecessarily as I could feel his presence in the house with senses honed from months of Eddie Torture.

“Great, dinner’s ready. Everyone at the table,” I ordered abruptly.

I had planned the evening closely. We had an hour and a half to eat dinner and in that time I also had to change and get to work. It was enough time not to seem rude (or, at least, not too rude) but not enough time for true disaster to fal .

Or so I thought.

“But…” Mom said, “shouldn’t we offer him a drink?

Maybe sit and have a chat?”

I did not think so. No chats. Eddie could drink at the table while forking food in his mouth.

“No time, supper’s done and I’m about to mash the potatoes. Go, go, go!”

Mom wheeled out, defying my order and intent on being both meddling and polite, “I’m asking him what he wants to drink.”

“Just do it in a hurry,” I cal ed after her, knowing Eddie probably could hear. “We don’t want cold potatoes.” I hid in the kitchen, fiddling over the final touches. I knew this was the act of a supreme wuss, but I didn’t care. Mom came in, made Eddie an iced tea, then Mom went out.