Kristen Ashley - Rock Chick

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

In Ally’s window was a nice-looking man, though a wee-bit steroid ridden and overdeveloped in the chest area but he had a good haircut, shirt, tie, slacks.

“We’re a bit jumpy. We’ve had kind of a rough day,” Ally explained, smiling her flirty smile.

Conversely, although Ally could head bang with the best, she was a White Hat type of gal. She liked the good boys. She liked preppies and corporate types and definitely men in uniform. She understood a good guitar riff but she liked her men clean-cut and ties and uniforms drove her wild.

“You lookin’ for Rosie?” the man asked.

I blinked.

Were we that obvious?

“Uh, yeah,” I replied.

He nodded. “I live over there.”

He pointed in the vague direction of “over there” and both Ally and I followed his finger, not sure precisely which house “over there” was his then looked back to him.

“Is Rosie in trouble?” the guy asked.

“Does Rosie get in trouble, do you know?” I asked in return.

The guy shook his head. “Not that I know of. Quiet guy. Killer coffee.”

We all nodded.

“I’m Gary,” he said.

Ally extended her hand. “Ally,” she said and then she pointed to me, “and this is India.”

Upon hearing my name, he turned and looked over his shoulder and gave a nod.

Ally and I turned and looked over our shoulders too.

Too late.

Before I could react to the two men running toward our car, my door was wrenched open, I was dragged out and I let out a howl when the backs of my legs were ripped from the hot leather seats.

I stopped my howl midway with an “oof” because I hadn’t taken my seat belt off and when the guy yanked me out, my belt jerked me back.

“Jesus, Teddy. Release the belt,” another man said.

I took this opportunity to scream.

Teddy dropped me, I hit the side of the seat and I used the steering wheel to pull myself back into it.

Ally had already been hauled out the other side, she wasn’t screaming and that scared the shit out of me.

I had no time to look for Ally as Teddy’s hands came around to undo the belt and I bent forward and bit his arm.

“Fuck!” He reared back and punched me in the cheekbone.

Hard.

I have never, in my life, been hit by a man.

I got in a bitch slapping catfight at a Public Image Limited – Big Audio Dynamite double bill but we were in a mosh pit gone bad. It was punk, it was expected.

Getting hit by a man hurt.

A fucking lot.

So much, I quit screaming and concentrated on the burning hurt that was radiating out of my cheekbone into my entire face.

“Teddy, for Christ sake. Are you nuts? She’s Nightingale’s. He’s gonna rip your dick off. This is supposed to go smooth.”

I opened my mouth to scream again and started back with the struggling.

Then Teddy was pulled away, someone touched me with something and after that, I didn’t remember a thing.

I came to feeling very funky and unable to move my limbs.

I focused on what appeared to be the ceiling of a car and heard voices from what sounded like really far away.

By the time the car stopped, I was able to move a little bit but not much. I was feeling tingly all over and my head was fuzzy.

The door to the car was opened and I was hauled out with hands under my armpits. Whoever hauled me out put me on my feet, my legs buckled and I nearly went down before I was caught. It was time again to lament the mini-skirt as a girl doesn’t want to be tossed around by bad guys while wearing a short skirt.

“Shit, hold her up, you moron.”

Two guys, one of them I noted was Goon Gary (not The Moron), dragged me by my upper arms through a tidy garage and into a house. I was shaking my head, trying to clear it and thinking not much of anything except that I wished I was wearing jeans.

I was taken into a room and heard a man say, “Jesus, what the fuck?”

The answer came hesitantly. “We had to stun her.”

“What happened to her face?”

This answer was more hesitant. “She bit Teddy so he hit her.”

“Christ! Which part of ‘I want this to go smooth’ did you not understand? Nightingale’s going to have a shit hemorrhage. Get her some ice then call Teddy, get him out of town.”

I was planted on a couch and not processing much of their conversation. I was focused on getting my fingers to move. I was together only enough to notice Goon Gary and The Moron making a hasty exit and that the couch I was on was a really nice couch, fluffy and covered in cream silk damask. I’d only just bought my couch a couple of months ago and I was still in couch-assessment mode, the kind of mode that unconsciously comes whenever you make a major purchase.

I succeeded in lifting my head to look at the guy who’d been talking. He was wearing gray slacks, a maroon shirt with a monochromatic tie. He was short, had to be in his fifties and had jet-black hair with white at each temple. He looked like what I would guess a younger Grandpa Munster would look like. Except a lot more creepy and definitely scary but not in a comic way.

“You okay?” he asked me.

No, I wasn’t okay. I’d just been punched in the face and then kidnapped.

I just stared at him.

“I’m really sorry about his,” he said. “I’m having troubles with some of my employees.”

No shit.

I thought it but didn’t say it, I hadn’t recovered enough to form words.

Gary came back with an ice bag wrapped in a kitchen towel and handed it to me. I was happy I had enough limb coordination to put it on my face. My cheekbone hurt like hell.

“This didn’t go as I’d planned. I just wanted to have a chat. I heard Nightingale had a woman and I was curious,” the man said to me, his tone surprisingly conciliatory.

“Where’s Ally?” I asked.

First things first. I wanted to know Ally was okay and then I wanted to have a nervous breakdown.

Young Grandpa Munster looked at Goon Gary.

“She was with another woman, we stunned her too,” Goon Gary explained, “We left her in the car with the keys. Teddy’s behind watching the car to make sure she’s okay.”

“Ally?” Young Grandpa Munster asked.

Gary shrugged.

Mr. Munster’s face tightened. “As in Allyson Nightingale, Lee Nightingale’s little sister?”

Gary began to look a wee bit uncomfortable.

It would appear this was an “oopsie” moment for Goon Gary.

“I’m at a loss for words. You do know that this isn’t only Lee’s woman, she’s Tom Savage’s daughter? And her friend is a Nightingale.”

Gary shifted on his feet while the color rose in his face.

Young Grandpa Munster sat down, shaking his head. “This whole thing is a complete fuck up.”

He looked at me and his face had an expression that was somewhere between resigned and depressed. In normal circumstances, I’d probably feel sorry for him. Since I didn’t know if I’d live to see the end of this scene in the film that was my life, I was too busy feeling sorry for myself.

“The simple life is holding some appeal,” he said and I nodded because I could see where he was coming from.

My life had been simple a day ago. Work, coffee, rock ‘n’ roll. Now I was being shot at, dragged around by bad guys and propositioned by the love of my life who I had decided I didn’t want anymore.

The simple life seemed far superior to all of that.

“I’m Terry Wilcox,” he went on.

I nodded again. I was beginning to feel enough of myself to be scared, but not enough to be polite.

“You’re India Savage, Lee’s woman.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to say I was not Lee’s anything but these people seemed scared enough of Lee for me to decide that I should keep my mouth shut on that score.

It was then Wilcox really looked at me, from head to toe, and he sat back, getting comfortable, his face changing from depressed to assessing.

“Lee’s always had good taste in women,” he said quietly and something in his eyes made my skin crawl.

Serious euw.

Then he said, “I’m looking for Rosie Coltrane, do you know where he is?”

Great.

Rosie.

The bane of my existence.

I was pissed off enough with Rosie, who had got me into this mess and the one with Lee, to be a little snippy.

“If I knew where he was, why would I be sitting in my car outside his house?”

Something dangerous changed in Wilcox’s eyes and I realized I’d just let my mouth run away with me and that being a little snippy might not go over too well. Like with the guys who shot at me. Evidence was clearly suggesting that bad guys did not like snippy women. I should maybe have been more polite, maybe more meek, then again, I didn’t have a lot of experience with conversing with creepy, scary, bad guys.

“He has something of mine,” Wilcox continued.

“I know.” I felt it safe to admit.

“I was supposed to get it back this morning. Do you know what happened?”

Hmm, I’d never taken the “how much information to divulge during interview with bad guys who kidnap you” course at the local community college. I’d barely squeaked by with computers and business accounting. I was feeling a little bit out of my depth.

“He was staying with Lee but, this morning, me and Lee got kinda… er…” I stopped and searched for a word to describe that morning’s trauma, “busy… and we didn’t notice he took off.”

“Busy.” His eyes dropped to my chest, the Euw Look was still in them. I felt my stomach lurch uncomfortably and tried really hard not to let my lip curl in disgust. “I bet. Do you know where he might be?”

I shook my head. “I wish I knew. He’s my coffee guy. He didn’t come to work, if I lose him, it’ll affect my profit margin.”

“He’s a good coffee guy,” Goon Gary offered, “sheer talent.”

Wilcox was throwing a “shut the fuck up you idiot” look at Gary. Gary’s mouth snapped shut.

Then Wilcox turned back to me.

“Do you know where the diamonds are?”

This I knew, but I shook my head again. I wasn’t going to drag Duke into this mess.

Since I was such an accomplished liar, I think he bought it.

“It’s a million dollars worth of diamonds.”

My mouth dropped open.

Holy crap.

“It is?”

“Yes, and I think you can understand that I want them back.”

I nodded, this time fervently.

If I had a million dollars worth of diamonds, I’d definitely want them back. Rosie must grow seriously primo grass to get paid a million dollars in diamonds for it.

Gary moved slightly, looking out the window, then he murmured, “Nightingale’s here.”

This news sent a surge of hope through me as I immediately decided that, just for the next thirty minutes or so, I wasn’t avoiding Lee.

Wilcox didn’t say anything at first, he just watched me.

“Are you sure you don’t know where Rosie is?”

“San Salvador?” I tried, and I wasn’t joking.

He smiled, he thought I was amusing. It was an oily smile and my skin started crawling again.

Lee walked in. I turned my head to him, the ice still held to my face.

One look and I could understand why these guys were scared of him.

This was a Lee I’d never seen.

He was still wearing his jeans, skintight, navy tee and biker boots and his hands hung loose and casual at his sides. However, the minute he entered, any other presence was forced from the room as his invaded. His eyes were hyper-alert and sharp, he was emanating pure, brutal energy and he was seriously and obviously pissed off.

He stopped and glanced at the ice on my face.

A muscle in his cheek jumped.

Uh-oh.

He cut his eyes to Wilcox.

“I thought we had an understanding,” Lee said.

Wilcox had come to his feet. He put his hands up in a placating gesture.

“Lee, it was a mistake. I just wanted to have a talk with your girl here and things got out of hand.”

“Coxy, things are gettin’ out of hand a lot these days. Who hit her?” Lee’s pissed off glance slid to Goon Gary.

Wilcox looked to Gary and I looked to Gary.

Gary looked a little pale.

“Let me take care of it,” Wilcox said.

“You don’t tell me, I’ll go through every one of your men, that way, I’ll be sure to get the fuck.”