Rock Chick (Rock Chick #1)(92)

Oh… my… God.

“Please tell me you didn’t do it in that little room,” I said quietly.

“It was before he was put in the holding room.”

At least that was something.

I was silent while Lee drove. I’d taken off the gunbelt and put it in the trunk with the one Lee took from a drawer in his desk. His was stocked like Vance’s.

Lee parallel parked the Crossfire in a choice spot in front of Las Delicias.

I loved Las Delicias, it was the best Mexican restaurant in Denver if you didn’t count El Tejado. Though, I really didn’t have to choose since El Tejado was officially in Englewood.

I was also silent while they sat us in a booth and Lee slid in beside me rather than across from me.

I turned to him, looked down at the seat then up at him.

“Let me guess, you aren’t much of a booth sharer?” he remarked.

I shook my head.

“Me either but I’m attempting to control the environment.”

I looked beyond him. He was turned toward me, his back to the restaurant.

“Wild Bill Hickock got shot with his back to the door,” I informed him.

“I’m not controlling the room, I’m going to attempt to control you.”

Uh-oh.

The waitress came and slid a basket of chips and a bowl of salsa on our table.

Neither of us had opened our menus. We didn’t need to.

Ally and I went to Las Delicias or El Tejado at least twice a month, sometimes more. Dad joined us on occasion. Hank joined us most of the time, even when he was on duty, he’d come in for a dinner break. Every once in awhile, and looking back, much more often in the last year or two, Lee came. He was with us so often, I could order for him. He’d have three chicken burritos, smothered with lettuce and cheese, a beer if it was evening, iced tea during the day.

Lee looked up at the waitress and ordered a diet pop for me, an iced tea for him, his burritos and my bean tostada and burrito chicharrone smothered with lettuce and cheese.

I guess Lee could order for me too.

He turned back to me.

“We’re here because it’s good and it’s fast. We have things to do.”

I nodded. I was still dealing with being totally freaked out so I wasn’t processing much. I was just hoping I could process my burrito and tostada or I’d be paying for a professional cleaning of the Crossfire.

Lee’s arm came behind me on the booth and he twisted fully toward me.

“First, Teddy. Bottom line is, he’s not a good guy. Hittin’ you is the least of the shit he’s done. There’s all kinds of justice, Hank delivers justice his way, I do it my way.”

Um… yikes!

“I’m in a dangerous business and I have enemies. You’re in my life now, I have to let it be known that if anyone f**ks with you, there will be consequences.”

“Simple as that?” I asked, trying not to let on that he was kind of scaring me.

“Not simple as that. I didn’t like standin’ in my kitchen listenin’ to you tell me someone hurt you. It was a pleasure puttin’ my fist in Teddy’s face and feelin’ his nose break. He’s a big guy, he could have really hurt you. He’ll think twice before hitting a woman again.”

Holy crap.

“Do you have a problem with any of that?” Lee asked.

“Yes,” I answered honestly.

“Can you deal with it?”

“Yes,” I answered, again, honestly.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

That was no lie, either. I really didn’t want to talk about it. In fact, I was going to deal with it by using denial so talking about it would automatically defeat my dealing with it strategy.

Lee watched me closely, as if he was reading his special Indy Lie Detector Test and then he leaned forward and brushed his lips against mine.

Guess I passed the test.

The waitress came back with the drinks.

If there was any fairness in the world, everyone would be able to have salsa from Las Delicias. Crisp, fresh onion, just enough cilantro. After a few margaritas, Ally and I could even make a case for salsa from Las Delicias bringing peace to the Middle East.

I picked up a chip and scooped a healthy serving of salsa.

“What’s gonna happen to Teddy?”

“If he’s smart, he’ll skip town,” Lee said, scooping his own chip.

“Is he smart?”

“Not really. Coxy had two smart guys, Rick and Pete, though in the end, apparently not that smart. Rick’s dead, Pete’s in jail facing kidnapping, assault and possibly murder, two of those against a cop’s daughter. They’ll want to give him his shoelaces but they’ll do everything by the book and be thorough to make sure he gets nailed. Pete’s f**ked.”

I grabbed another chip and broke it in half, the better to scoop the salsa. I didn’t have a lot of time to spare Pete, who I suspected was the guy I called Sandy. Pete had tied me to a chair and shot at me, twice. I didn’t know what Lee was talking about with regards to shoelaces but I had no problem that he was f**ked.

“Who do you think has the diamonds?” I asked Lee.

“I have the diamonds.”

“What?”

Okay, I shouted it. The other diners turned to stare. But, what the f**k?