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Rock Chick Regret

Page 108

   


“What in the hell are you doing?” Ally asked, staring at the papers all over the floor.
“Filing,” I answered.
Indy turned to Shirleen. “I thought that was your job.”
“Do I look like a file clerk to you?” Shirleen’s eyes narrowed, clearly becoming frustrated with this topic.
“You’re sitting behind a receptionist desk,” Indy returned.
“Maybe we shouldn’t talk about this anymore,” I cut in, trying to help.
“Does Lee know you don’t do the filing?” Indy, apparently, didn’t need my help.
Shirleen grinned. “That’s it. You talk to Lee about paperwork. You give him lip about paperwork. Now, that I’d like to see. Make sure Shirleen’s around when you talk to Lee about paperwork. He loves to talk about paperwork.”
At this juncture, wisely, Kitty Sue decided to intervene, “Ally, get that pile from the end of Shirleen’s desk and you and Indy help sort. Shirleen, move out from behind the desk, Sadie’s going to type labels on the computer and make up folders. Daisy, start with the A’s, file what already has a folder in the cabinet, give Sadie the rest so she can make folders. Come on girls,” She clapped her hands. “Let’s go.”
Boy, you could tell Kitty Sue was a Mom. Even Daisy and Shirleen did as she ordered which meant Shirleen moved to the far more comfortable couch and kept polishing her nails.
I found the folders and labels and started typing. Daisy started filing. Kitty Sue, Indy and Ally kept on sorting.
In an hour, we were done, the last label typed, the last folder put away. Kitty Sue closed a drawer with her foot and swiped her hands together like she was brushing off dust.
“Oowee, world’s put to rights, Lee’s paperwork is filed. I’ll call the mayor,” Shirleen announced from her reclining position on the couch, her head coming up from her perusal of Us magazine.
Daisy, Ally, Indy and Kitty Sue all went red in the face and glared at Shirleen.
“Why don’t we go to dinner? My treat,” I offered before anyone could commit a violent act, or worse, say something they regretted.
“Can’t,” Shirleen said, sitting up. “Orders are you stay here unless one of the Hot Bunch is around to escort you. They’re all tied up. You’re stuck.”
“Then we’ll order pizza,” I decided.
Shirleen nodded and grinned. “That’ll work. I got Famous on speed dial.”
Of course she did.
“I’ll call the girls, the Hot Bunch are all working tonight so they’re all free,” Indy put in.
“Tell Jet to stop by Pasquini’s and pick up dessert,” Ally threw in.
“Tell Jules to bring Max, I haven’t seen him in ages,” Kitty Sue said.
“Tell Roxie to pop by the liquor store and get beer,” Daisy finished.
I moved out from behind the desk to give Shirleen room and walked to the side of the couch to pick up my purse so I could call Ralphie and Buddy to see if they wanted to come around.
I grabbed my phone, dropped my purse to the couch and turned, back to the door, to face the girls, all of whom were across the room.
“I’ll call Ralphie and Bud –” I started but didn’t finish.
The door opened behind me, I didn’t have a chance to turn but I did see Daisy’s face grow pale, her mouth opened to say something but I felt something very unpleasant touch my neck.
I dropped the phone and everything went black.
Chapter Twenty-Two
He Taught Me How to Make S’Mores
Sadie
It was well past dawn when the door opened, the lights went on and Jerry walked in.
I’d been up for hours, watching the sun lighten the dark room as it peeped through the closed curtains at the window.
I did not spend this time scared.
I spent it angry.
I was over this.
Over.
This.
All of it.
The fact that it was Jerry who’d kidnapped me right out of Nightingale Investigations reception area and not one of the crazy, mean, f**king Balducci Brothers didn’t make me any happier.
This was only partly because I was over all the shitty, terrible traumas that kept making my life so f**king difficult. It was also because I knew Hector (and everyone, for that matter), were probably scared out of their minds that I’d been gone all night.
And them being scared pissed me right off.
I yanked my hand which was handcuffed to an iron bedstead so that it made an awful clink and I glared at him.
“Uncuff me,” I snapped.
“No f**kin’ way. You get uncuffed after you talk to your Dad,” Jerry replied, putting a mug of coffee and a bowl of cereal on the nightstand. The room I was in was clean, drab and had no personal items just a double bed, dresser and two nightstands.
“Where am I?” I demanded, taking a different tact.
“Your father’s safe house. The Feds never found it,” Jerry replied, standing several feet away from the bed, arms crossed on his chest, looking down at me.
“Where is it?”
“You’re spreadin’ your legs for an ex-Fed PI, Sadie,” he returned, his tone ugly. “I’m not gonna tell you where your father’s safe house is.”
I decided to ignore his rude words.
“How did you get me?”
“Stun gun. You went down, I dragged you out, your bitches came after me. I fired warning shots, they backed off. Got you in the car, Nightingale’s operations man, Monty whoever-the-fuck came after me, I shot out his tire. You started to come around, I gave you a different kind of shot. Nightie night.”
I felt my breath catch. “You shot at them?”
“Warning shots.”
I yanked my hand against the cuffs and got up on my knees.
“I swear to God, Jerry, you hurt any of them, I’ll f**king kill you!”
He grinned like he thought I was hilarious. “Much as I’d like to put a bullet in Nightingale’s piece or his f**kin’ sister, who’s a pain in everyone’s ass, you Dad’s orders were to get you, no collateral damage. That’s what I did.”
That made me feel better but I still spat at him, “You’re a pig.”
At my words, his face went hard. “Rather be a pig than a traitor.” He leaned in and his face started to turn ugly. “You make me sick. The idea of that ass**le’s hands on you, his mouth on you, his dick in you. Christ, your father trusted him and Chavez f**ked him, he f**ked all of us. Now you’re lettin’ him f**k you. Can you imagine how that makes your Dad feel?”