Rock Chick Rescue
Page 40
“Maybe tomorrow,” I replied.
Smithie gave me a barely there smile, “Get outta here.” Tex was waiting at the door and he escorted me to his bronze El Camino. When we were in and buckled up, Tex took off like a rocket and I felt the g-forces pul ing me back against the seat. George Thorogood was blaring from the eight track.
“What happened to your car?” he yel ed over the music, somehow calmly, as if he wasn’t propel ing us at a mil ion miles an hour to our doom with “Bad to the Bone” as our soundtrack.
I pried my body from the seat.
“It’s at the mechanics,” I yel ed back.
Tex was silent a beat, then he shouted, “I got some money stashed away. If you need it…”
I interrupted him, “No, Tex, I’m fine.”
“Not from where I’m sittin’, woman.”
“Real y,” I said, a little more quietly but loud enough to be heard, “I’l be okay.”
He made a noise that sounded like a snort.
“If you need it, it’s there. That’s al I’m sayin’.” I felt the warm feeling in my bel y again.
He parked in a disabled spot at my apartment building and got out to escort me.
I was at the doors to the building, keying in the security code, feeling Tex standing behind me when I heard a noise and a scuffle. I turned to see Tex go down, hitting the ground with a thud akin to a giant redwood tree fal ing.
I looked up to see Louie and Vince, stil wearing their Reservoir Dogs outfits and staring at me. Louie’s face was blank. Vince looked like he wanted to break me in half.
Louie came forward, grabbed my arm and said, “Let’s go. Marcus wants to talk to you.”
Damn.
Damn, damn, damn and double damn.
I should have remembered to keep worrying, because, for me, if it could get worse, it would.
* * * * *
They took me south, to the fancy section of Englewood with the big estates and multi-mil ion dol ar homes.
We turned right, drove down a secluded lane and pul ed to a stop at a house that looked less of a house and more of a castle. They guided me up the walk, Louie on my left, Vince on my right, and we went over a bridge that went over what looked like moat.
Normal y, I would find it funny, a castle with a moat in Denver.
Nothing was funny at that particular moment, however.
We walked in the front door and they walked me down a long, wide hal way that was made of stone with a plush, red carpet runner down the middle of it. Every once in awhile, on the wal , there was a light fashioned to look like a torch.
There were also two ful sets of armor and a bunch of crests and crossed swords on the wal .
We turned right into a big room, then right again into what looked like a den, then left into what was a study.
There was more of the medieval castle décor there with a big, heavily carved desk, leather upholstered chairs and pennants flying from brass rods at the ceiling.
A man stood there. He was younger than I expected the king of the castle to be and very good looking. If I saw him on the street, I’d give him a second glance: tal , dark with serious blue eyes that were, somehow, frightening, like he’d seen it al , done it al and wasn’t scared of any of it.
His eyes moved the length of me and something flickered in them when he took in my Smithie’s uniform. He hid it quickly.
“Take a seat,” he said.
I immediately did as I was told and sat in one of the chairs facing the desk. Louie and Vince stood behind me.
The man sat across from me.
“You Jet McAlister?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Ray’s daughter?” he went on.
I nodded again. Even though I knew this had to be about Dad, I stil felt my heart die a little bit knowing he was the cause of yet another disaster for me.
“I’m looking for Ray,” he told me.
I nodded, not sure what to say and too scared to speak anyway.
“You seen him?”
I shook my head.
His eyes moved from me to Louie and Vince, then back to me.
“It’s important I find him. Do you know where he’d be?” he asked.
“I…” There was a frog in my throat so I cleared it and said, “I’m looking for him too. He’s not real good at sticking around when things get… difficult,” I finished.
His face tightened at that and the scary part of his eyes escalated to such a point where I was pretty certain I was going to pee my pants.
I’d never met anyone like him before, his menace vibrated off him like a physical touch.
I wanted to run but I felt rooted to the spot. I had the feeling that this man was going to hurt me, or he was going to let Vince hurt me, and I didn’t want either of those things to happen.
“Honey Bunch? What’re you doin’ up so… oh my, we have company.”
I turned at this new voice, a female voice with a deep country twang. My mouth dropped open at what I saw.
Dol y Parton, or a fair impersonation of her, was standing in the doorway, big blonde hair, tiny body, enormous knockers, wearing a pink negligee set, complete with marabou feathers, even on the high-heeled slippers she wore. I realized she wasn’t Dol y because she had to be my age or maybe a year or two older.
I don’t know what propel ed me out of the chair but I stood and turned toward her.
She peeked around Louie and her blue eyes got huge.
Then she looked at the man behind the desk and they narrowed.
“What’re you doin’ with a Smithie’s girl?” she asked, hand on hip, hip jutting out and attitude hitting the room like a body blow.
“Daisy, honey, this is business,” the man behind the desk said.
“With a Smithie’s girl? In the middle of the night? I don’t think so.” Her voice rose on the last two words.
“It’s not what you think,” the man said.
“Anything I think it better not be, Marcus, darlin’.” Louie, Vince and I were watching this discussion, our heads swinging back and forth between the participants.
Marcus looked at us and then said, “Get out.” I started to fol ow Louie and Vince but Marcus said, “Jet, you stay.”
I didn’t know whether to be happy or sad that I was left with Marcus and Daisy who were in the throes of a domestic situation. Though, I didn’t expect any time I spent with Vince would be a good time.
Daisy moved aside just enough to let them pass and then she closed the door and walked into the room.
Her eyes trained on me. “Jet, is it?”
I nodded, scared to death of her even though she had to be three inches shorter than me even wearing high heels.
Smithie gave me a barely there smile, “Get outta here.” Tex was waiting at the door and he escorted me to his bronze El Camino. When we were in and buckled up, Tex took off like a rocket and I felt the g-forces pul ing me back against the seat. George Thorogood was blaring from the eight track.
“What happened to your car?” he yel ed over the music, somehow calmly, as if he wasn’t propel ing us at a mil ion miles an hour to our doom with “Bad to the Bone” as our soundtrack.
I pried my body from the seat.
“It’s at the mechanics,” I yel ed back.
Tex was silent a beat, then he shouted, “I got some money stashed away. If you need it…”
I interrupted him, “No, Tex, I’m fine.”
“Not from where I’m sittin’, woman.”
“Real y,” I said, a little more quietly but loud enough to be heard, “I’l be okay.”
He made a noise that sounded like a snort.
“If you need it, it’s there. That’s al I’m sayin’.” I felt the warm feeling in my bel y again.
He parked in a disabled spot at my apartment building and got out to escort me.
I was at the doors to the building, keying in the security code, feeling Tex standing behind me when I heard a noise and a scuffle. I turned to see Tex go down, hitting the ground with a thud akin to a giant redwood tree fal ing.
I looked up to see Louie and Vince, stil wearing their Reservoir Dogs outfits and staring at me. Louie’s face was blank. Vince looked like he wanted to break me in half.
Louie came forward, grabbed my arm and said, “Let’s go. Marcus wants to talk to you.”
Damn.
Damn, damn, damn and double damn.
I should have remembered to keep worrying, because, for me, if it could get worse, it would.
* * * * *
They took me south, to the fancy section of Englewood with the big estates and multi-mil ion dol ar homes.
We turned right, drove down a secluded lane and pul ed to a stop at a house that looked less of a house and more of a castle. They guided me up the walk, Louie on my left, Vince on my right, and we went over a bridge that went over what looked like moat.
Normal y, I would find it funny, a castle with a moat in Denver.
Nothing was funny at that particular moment, however.
We walked in the front door and they walked me down a long, wide hal way that was made of stone with a plush, red carpet runner down the middle of it. Every once in awhile, on the wal , there was a light fashioned to look like a torch.
There were also two ful sets of armor and a bunch of crests and crossed swords on the wal .
We turned right into a big room, then right again into what looked like a den, then left into what was a study.
There was more of the medieval castle décor there with a big, heavily carved desk, leather upholstered chairs and pennants flying from brass rods at the ceiling.
A man stood there. He was younger than I expected the king of the castle to be and very good looking. If I saw him on the street, I’d give him a second glance: tal , dark with serious blue eyes that were, somehow, frightening, like he’d seen it al , done it al and wasn’t scared of any of it.
His eyes moved the length of me and something flickered in them when he took in my Smithie’s uniform. He hid it quickly.
“Take a seat,” he said.
I immediately did as I was told and sat in one of the chairs facing the desk. Louie and Vince stood behind me.
The man sat across from me.
“You Jet McAlister?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Ray’s daughter?” he went on.
I nodded again. Even though I knew this had to be about Dad, I stil felt my heart die a little bit knowing he was the cause of yet another disaster for me.
“I’m looking for Ray,” he told me.
I nodded, not sure what to say and too scared to speak anyway.
“You seen him?”
I shook my head.
His eyes moved from me to Louie and Vince, then back to me.
“It’s important I find him. Do you know where he’d be?” he asked.
“I…” There was a frog in my throat so I cleared it and said, “I’m looking for him too. He’s not real good at sticking around when things get… difficult,” I finished.
His face tightened at that and the scary part of his eyes escalated to such a point where I was pretty certain I was going to pee my pants.
I’d never met anyone like him before, his menace vibrated off him like a physical touch.
I wanted to run but I felt rooted to the spot. I had the feeling that this man was going to hurt me, or he was going to let Vince hurt me, and I didn’t want either of those things to happen.
“Honey Bunch? What’re you doin’ up so… oh my, we have company.”
I turned at this new voice, a female voice with a deep country twang. My mouth dropped open at what I saw.
Dol y Parton, or a fair impersonation of her, was standing in the doorway, big blonde hair, tiny body, enormous knockers, wearing a pink negligee set, complete with marabou feathers, even on the high-heeled slippers she wore. I realized she wasn’t Dol y because she had to be my age or maybe a year or two older.
I don’t know what propel ed me out of the chair but I stood and turned toward her.
She peeked around Louie and her blue eyes got huge.
Then she looked at the man behind the desk and they narrowed.
“What’re you doin’ with a Smithie’s girl?” she asked, hand on hip, hip jutting out and attitude hitting the room like a body blow.
“Daisy, honey, this is business,” the man behind the desk said.
“With a Smithie’s girl? In the middle of the night? I don’t think so.” Her voice rose on the last two words.
“It’s not what you think,” the man said.
“Anything I think it better not be, Marcus, darlin’.” Louie, Vince and I were watching this discussion, our heads swinging back and forth between the participants.
Marcus looked at us and then said, “Get out.” I started to fol ow Louie and Vince but Marcus said, “Jet, you stay.”
I didn’t know whether to be happy or sad that I was left with Marcus and Daisy who were in the throes of a domestic situation. Though, I didn’t expect any time I spent with Vince would be a good time.
Daisy moved aside just enough to let them pass and then she closed the door and walked into the room.
Her eyes trained on me. “Jet, is it?”
I nodded, scared to death of her even though she had to be three inches shorter than me even wearing high heels.
