BOMB: A Day in the Life of Spencer Shrike (10 page)

He turns around in his seat again and we shake on it. “Deal.”

Chapter Eleven

It’s six o’clock by the time she makes the call. “Spencer?” she asks after my cheerful, “Yello.”

“I thought you hated me, Bombshell? You love me again?”

She sighs and I beam a smile over at Carson. He thumbs me up as he peruses the catalog of accessories for his fucking custom bike.

“Spencer, I’ve been thinking about your offer. It was very generous. And—” I can actually hear her swallow, that’s how loud it is. She’s having trouble eating her crow, but I let her stew. She needs to eat the whole bird tonight. Feathers and all. Because she’s just not seeing the big picture and I need to her pay attention to what the fuck I’m trying to accomplish here. “I’d like to take you up on that job offer. If it’s still available,” she adds quickly.

“Well, I was gonna offer it to Carla, the burrito girl at Big City, but I haven’t talked to her yet. I don’t pick her up for our weekly date until eight.”

I can almost feel Ronnie’s seething anger over the phone. I look over at Carson and he’s shaking his head at me. I put up a hand and wink.

“Well, I want the job. So is it available or not?”

She’s mad now and I smile. I like my Bombshell on the verge of exploding. That’s the only way I know she’s OK. When she’s quiet and contemplative, that’s when I know she’s having trouble. Ronnie is tough as nails, and while
I
understand she really wants to be treated tenderly, she’s just not there yet. So the bad-girl routine is all she’s got.

“Veronica,” I say softly so I can set her back a little.

“Yes?”

“Even if I did offer Carla that job, I’d never choose her over you, baby. Never.”

She snorts. “That’s funny. You have a date with her tonight though, right?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“So if I ask you to take me out instead of her, would you?”

“No, baby. I can’t.”

“But I can have a job?”

“Yes. The job is yours.”

“That makes no sense, Spencer Shrike.”

“That’s because you have no details, Veronica Vaughn.”

“Enlighten me.”

“Someday, Bomb. Someday I’ll tell you everything. From start to finish. But not tonight.” She’s silent after that. She might even be crying. “It’s a virtual job, remember?”

“Yes,” she squeaks out.

“I’ll text you all the info to access my email accounts on Monday. We’ll start there for now. We don’t need to see each other, just texts and phone calls. Got it?”

She’s silent for almost ten seconds before she manages to acknowledge me. “Got it, Spencer. I’ll talk to you Monday then.”

“Right. Oh, and Ronnie?”

“Yeah?” she comes back with some hope in her voice.

“I think you should date that banker. If he’s still interested, that is. Because I had Ford check him out, and he’s a good guy. I’d like for you to find yourself a good guy, Ronnie. So if I’ve screwed anything up, I’m sorry. Maybe try and explain I’m just a dick and you’re done with me.”

This time when she answers I know she’s crying. She manages an, “OK,” and then the phone beeps three times and the call is over.

“Shit, Shrike,” Carson says from his perch on my crappy desk. “That was fucked up.”

“She’ll get over it, Reed. Just do your part and I’ll do mine. You got an idea what you want? Because I really do have to meet Carla soon.”

Carson shakes his head at me. “What the hell? Why are you seeing other girls if you love the Bombshell?”

I sigh. “Carla and I go line-dancing on Thursday nights. Ronnie loves to line-dance but I’ve never gone with her because I just can’t afford to be seen with her in public like that. But soon, I
will
be dating her, Carson. Soon. So I’m getting ready for that day. Carla offered to teach me and every Thursday night we practice at the Sundance Saloon. Fridays, I hang out with Renee from the Cat Call. I watch the strippers so people think I’m available. And Renee is the bartender. She flirts with me and I keep an extra eye out for her when the bar gets crazy. They have shit bouncers over there. Saturdays I hang out with Kim from the Broomfield Harley store. She’s on a bowling league down there. Ronnie’s brothers have a bowling league up here in FoCo. And as soon as life settles down, I’m in. I want to insert myself into Ronnie’s life. I want to be accepted by her family and I figure bowling with them is a good way to do that.”

Carson laughs a little. “So you’re not fucking any other girls?”

“Hell the fuck no. I haven’t had a bit of fucking fun since New Year’s when I saw Ronnie last. This trial shit, Carson—this trial shit is big fucking time. These people are not playing around. My friends and I are in deep, man. I do not have time to fuck, or drink, or worry about shit like that. Hell, I barely have time to think about the show.”

“You really do love her?” He looks at me hard now. Like he’s changing his opinion of me on the spot.

“I really do. But by the time I get my chance to tell her, she might not love me back.”

“Well, fuck. I really had no clue.”

“That’s how it has to stay, Reed. You got it? No one can know I love her. No one. Did you see what happened to Rook Corvus last fall?”

Carson nods his head. “Yeah, I felt sorry for her.”

“Well, my Ronnie will not survive that. OK? She won’t. I cannot have those filthy reporters following her around like animals, trying to ruin her life and make her freak out for the cameras. Rook has no ties to anyone but us. She was easy to protect. Ronnie has all kinds of family. There are so many ways to get to her. So many people she loves who can be hurt to get even. I need to keep her and her entire family safe.”

He nods at me. “OK, then. I get it. I’m in.”

“In?”

“Yeah, I’m in. I’ll keep your secret for you, Shrike. I’m in. I don’t know the whole story and frankly, I do not care. But what you guys did last fall… that was some brave shit. Those assholes all need to go to jail. So if keeping my eye on Ronnie helps you finish them off, you can count on me.”

I let out a long breath.

I am one lucky motherfucker.

Not because I got away with murder.

Not because I have a TV show.

Not because I came from a good family or was well-educated, or because I can build bikes or paint naked girls.

I’m a lucky guy because I have friends.

And I’m gonna need every single one of them, because the shit is about to get ugly.

End of Book Shit

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End of Book Shit is kinda fun. It’s never edited, so if you spot typos in this, well, fuck it. Typos happen. I’m pretty much just saying what’s on my mind at the time of formatting. Right now my office is a pigsty, just littered with shit. Boxes of books, new shoes (I’m going to Indie Girl Con next week, so gotta have new shoes), dishes, envelopes and empty boxes to mail stuff winners, mail I never open.

Here’s a fun fact about Julie. I never, like
ever
, open mail. I do not care if the fucking president of the US is writing me a letter, or I can see that fucking check staring at me through the envelope window. It will sit on my desk for months until I get around to giving a shit about it.

Yes, this is really how I talk. I have a hard time feeling bad about having a potty mouth. Believe me, my children tried. But my standard answer was, “I could be dancing on tables for dollars to pay rent and drinking gin all day long, you’re lucky my only vice is saying the word fuck too much.”

I don’t actually have the table-dancing body type, but it was the sentiment behind the words that counted.

:)

So anyway, by the time I get to the End of Book Shit, I’m
tired
. Because publishing a book a month for six months is not a fucking cakewalk, let me tell you. So I’m not really in the mood to care about typos right now (or ever, really. I don’t get the grammar Nazis. I think they exist to try and make Indies feels like shit so they can feel better about themselves.)

I kid.

No. I don’t.

BOMB continues Spencer’s introduction to the world. Spencer has been
this guy
from the beginning. In fact all my characters were pretty firmly cemented, as far as backstory and personalities go, in the first book they appear in. There is one character in GUNS who will blow your mind, but it can’t be helped.

So Spencer was sort of this sexy, dangerous goofball. More goof than dangerous for the first two books, but then… we learn something about Spencer in Panic. He’s not a good guy.

In fact, when you take out the microscope, none of these people are good. Each of them are on the verge of being guilty, or mentally unstable, or menacing.

But I like them that way.

I’m not perfect. I’ve made a lot of stupid mistakes. And yet… life goes on. You just have to pick yourself up and keep going. And I hope that when you get to the end of GUNS you’ll say to yourself—nope, they weren’t perfect.

But they were real.

And the story kept me guessing.

And I’m gonna miss them.

Rook is sweet, but she’s not innocent. In the end Rook has no one to blame but herself for her bad luck. And that goes for all of the characters in this series.

But when the good luck comes knocking, she can take all that credit too.

Rook makes mistakes, just like everyone else in this series. And in GUNS, all these characters are gonna get hit in the face hard with those mistakes once more.

This was
always
the plan. I did not see Ford’s book coming. It kinda threw me how much people loved him. But Ford’s past was always his
story
. I just never had any plans to write it down publish it. But I had to know Ford’s story because Ronin had to hate him for something, right? Everything about Ford was built around that one incident that made Ronin hate him. Even Ford’s perfect father. Because Ford’s father protected him from Antoine’s wrath when he did that nasty thing to Ronin back in high school.

Spencer was different. I always knew he’d get a book. Even before I published Tragic I knew Spencer needed a book. The body art in and of itself was enough to guarantee that. Add in Shrike Bikes and a reality show, well… it’s pretty fucking cool if you ask me. And I always knew Spencer’s back story too. I knew he loved Veronica, even though he admits to Rook in Manic that he’s a player.

But he had to have a reason for ditching her. And that’s where all the fun is, as far as I’m concerned. Why did he need to keep her away? Well, you’re gonna find out soon. :)

I hope you enjoyed this peek into Spencer’s head. That’s all it is. One day. A snapshot of a critical turning point that will lead us to the end. That’s all Slack was too. Just a moment where one’s life gains some clarity. A mini catharsis, or at the very least, a step forward out of despair.

So don’t over-fucking think it.

See you in GUNS

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~ Julie

Special Thanks

RJ
- Just thank you. For everything, but mostly for being patient and honest.

Street Team
– Holy hell, you guys are the rock stars of the street team world. I hope you realize this. Every author should be so lucky to have you ladies.

Jana Aston
– you amaze me. Thank you so much for your monumental efforts to help me get out the word about my books.

Also, I have a new author group. We’re putting out an
EPIC boxed set of ORIGINAL sexy shorts
on May 5, 2014. My story is about a brand new character I introduce in GUNS. I’m smiling big about this guy. Look for it. But if you forget, don’t worry, I’ll remind you in the newsletter. You should seriously sign up for that shit. Really. Like go now. —>> Join the
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