Rock Chick 02 Rescue (7 page)

I turned and stared.

It was Oscar, my latest ex. We’d broken up about a month before Mom’s stroke. Before that, we’d been together for two years. The break up was by mutual consent (mutual in the sense that I talked Oscar into it) and we’d stayed friends. He helped move Mom and me into our new apartment. He was a good guy and, sometimes, I missed him.

Oscar was about two inches tal er than me, had warm, brown eyes, fantastic, thick, dark hair and some acne scars which, lucky for him, only served to make him look more interesting.

I turned to him as he walked to us. He looked upset.

This was not good. Oscar had a short fuse which, upset, could quickly grow into something much harder to control.

“Oscar! What are you doing here?”

“Your Mom cal ed, said some asshole cal ed you a racist.
Mamita
what is
that
shit al about? I wanna have a word with him. Who is this fuckwad?”

What did I tel you?

My mother.

I wanted to run screaming out of the store but my belt loop was pul ed again and again my shoulder came into contact with Eddie’s chest, this time, it stayed there.

“I think I’m the fuckwad,” Eddie said.

Oscar’s eyes moved to Eddie and he saw the way we were standing. I think he misinterpreted it because his temper flared directly to the red zone.

“Get your fuckin’ hands off her!” Oscar shouted and everyone (and there were a lot of people) turned to look.

“Calm down,
amigo
, we’ve straightened things out,” Eddie replied.

“Oscar, it’s okay,” I said.

Oscar wasn’t listening.

“You don’t cal my woman a racist and then
straighten
things out
. And I thought I told you to get your hands off her.”

I forgot to mention, Oscar also had a possessiveness issue. It was one of the reasons we broke up. Not to mention, his confronting Eddie was stupid, anyone could see by looking at the two of them that Eddie could wipe the floor with him. Eddie was tal er, leaner and had about a half an ounce of body fat, which was clear to see from the skintight white t-shirt he was wearing.

“Your woman?” Eddie asked, his body tensing. He looked down at me. “You seein’ this guy?”

“We broke up,” I said.

“When?” Eddie asked.

“Nine months ago.”

Eddie smiled for the first time that morning and the dimple came out. He turned back to Oscar. “I’d say she wasn’t your woman anymore.”

Oscar leaned forward and started yel ing at Eddie in Spanish and Eddie returned fire.

“Stop!” I shouted.

I’d had enough. I hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours, my car wasn’t working, I’d had a knife to my throat and Eddie just announced that he was making me his business.

I couldn’t stand anymore.

Both men quit yel ing.

“It’s sorted out, Oscar. It was something stupid I said to make him think it in the first place. But he doesn’t think I’m a racist anymore. Just chil .”

Oscar wasn’t done being angry and he turned to me.

“You worry your mother,” he said.

Wonderful.

“Oscar, everything’s under control.”

“Bul shit,
Mamita
. Your Mom says—”

“Stop listening to my mother and stop interfering. I can take care of myself.”

He leaned into me. “Yeah? I don’t think so. I got two eyes in my head, don’t I? You’ve lost weight; you look run down and ready to drop. How’re you gonna take care of yourself when you’re so fuckin’ busy takin’ care of—”

“Oscar!” I shouted, “
Shut up!
And quit talking to my mother.”

He stared at me a beat and then was quiet. The arrow went out of the red zone and dropped down to green. Once it hit green, he looked at me with concern in his eyes.

“Jet, you need someone lookin’ out for you.”

“That would be me,” I told him.

He shook his head and sighed.

“
Mi Cielo,
you break my heart.”

It was then I knew we were out of danger. Oscar blew quick and blew out just as quickly.

I smiled at him, “Go get a donut.”

“Don’t have time for donuts. I’m late for work as it is.” He leaned in and kissed my cheek, sent Eddie a glare and then took off.

Before I could react, Tex showed up to our little circle.

“Thank Christ for you, Loopy Loo,” He boomed, handing me a cappuccino. “Things were beginnin’ to get borin’

around here.” Then he went back behind the counter.

Everyone was staring at me, Eddie, Lee and Indy.

“Oscar’s a little over-protective,” I said to diffuse the mood.

“I’l say,” Dad chipped in.

Lee and Indy’s attention switched to Dad but Eddie kept looking at me. His eyes were active again and his hand moved from my waistband to hook an arm around my neck, curling me into him. We were nearly chest-to-chest and I had to splay my hand against his abs to push a bit away from him. His arm tightened, holding me where I was.

His head dipped and he said in my ear, “I’ve just added a couple of things to my list of shit we need to talk about.” That was not a good thing.

He turned me around, stil holding me to his side with his arm around my neck and he looked to Dad.

“Seems we need to have a conversation, Ray.” Dad looked between Eddie and I, a smile playing on his Dad looked between Eddie and I, a smile playing on his mouth.

“Jet was held at knife point last night by a guy named Slick. You know anything about that?” Eddie went on.

The smile left Dad’s face. Indy gasped. Dad’s eyes moved to Lee, back to Eddie and then to me.

“You okay?” Dad asked.

“He didn’t hurt me,” I told him.

“Fuck, Jet,” Dad said, then dropped his head into his hand and wiped his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

“Says you owe him something,” Eddie said.

Dad looked up.

“I’l talk to him,” he said to Eddie. Then he turned to me.

“I’l talk to him,” he repeated.

“You do that,” Eddie said. “Somethin’ else, Ray. Jet’s involvement in this began and ended last night with her conversation with Slick. Do you get me?”

My whole body tightened and I glared at Eddie.

This was family business, who did he think he was?

But Dad answered Eddie, “Yeah. Yeah. No problem. It’s over. I’l take care of it.” Dad looked at me, “I’l take care of it, Jet. I promise.”

“Why don’t you do it now?” Lee suggested.

Dad looked at Lee and fear came in his eyes.

“Now’s a good time.”

He got up and I pul ed away from Eddie and went to him.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine. Sure.” He hugged me, “I’l get this sorted, Princess Jet. Nothin’ to worry about.” He kissed my cheek then his Jet. Nothin’ to worry about.” He kissed my cheek then his hand came up as if to touch where he kissed but it dropped away.

“Thanks for the donut.” He said, then, without another word or even a look, he took off.

The minute the door closed behind him, I whirled on Eddie.

I don’t know what came over me. Lack of sleep, maybe.

Seeing my Dad like that. Whatever, I let him have it.

“That was family business!” I snapped.

Eddie stared down at me.

“Your family?”

“Mine.”

“Since you’re my business, then that’s my business.” I gaped at him, mouth open and everything.

I shook myself out of my pissed off stupor and yel ed,

“Stay out of it!”

“I gave you fair warning, Jet. I’m already in it,” he replied, cool as can be.

I narrowed my eyes and planted my hands on my hips.

“Not anymore. Your role in this scenario has been played.”

He rocked back on his heels and smiled, dimple and al .

“Never seen you angry.”

“This isn’t angry. You haven’t seen angry yet.” That was a lie. I tended to be a pretty mel ow person, al in al . I didn’t get angry often and that was about as angry as I’d ever been.

“Then, considering you’re sexy as hel right now, I’m lookin’ forward to angry.”

His words threw me and it was a miracle I didn’t stagger backward.

Then panic coursed through me and I started to stomp toward the bookshelves when Eddie said to my back, “This is familiar, guess it’s time to hide.”

It was likely a mixture of humiliation and heretofore unknown temper that made me swing around and stomp right back to him. That, and the fact I was seeing red. I guess he real y hadn’t “seen angry yet” but then again, neither had I.

I got toe-to-toe with him and yel ed in his face, “Leave me and my Dad alone, Eddie Chavez!”

Eddie leaned into me, so close, he was al I could see.

Quietly, he asked, “Is it wrong that I want to kiss you right now?”

I kinda growled, low in my throat, too angry to be freaked out by what he said.

“
Dios mio, Cariña
, you’re adorable.”

“I’m no longer speaking to you,” I told him.

“Yes you are, three o’clock, then it’s you, me and a pitcher of margaritas,” he responded.

I walked away (wel maybe more like flounced), behind the espresso counter and started banging around, completely ignoring him and everyone.

A couple of minutes later, Tex said, surprisingly quiet,

“It’s okay, darlin’, he’s gone.”

I looked to Tex and Indy as she came behind the counter.

“What am I gonna do?” I asked.

“What am I gonna do?” I asked.

“Go with it?” Tex suggested.

“Do you want to talk?” Indy asked.

I shook my head.

“Thanks. I need to get my head together. Maybe later,” I told her.

“Anytime Jet, do you know that?” Indy asked.

“Know what?”

“That anytime you need to talk, or need anything, you can cal me. Do you know that?”

I felt tears sting my eyes. I nodded and turned away, got back to work and missed the look Indy and Tex exchanged.

I wasn’t going to have a nervous breakdown, not now.

And if I gave in to everything I was feeling, my system would probably shut down for a month.

I needed to concentrate, prioritise.

Stay awake was first. Find out what was wrong with my car was second. Find out if Dad was okay was third. Find a way to make up the money I gave Dad was last, or maybe first.

Or maybe the problem was, it was al first.

Chapter Four

Out of the Frying Pan and Into Eddie’s Bed
My luck changed when Smithie cal ed me and told me a

“friend” was going to be in the parking lot of my apartment building at two o’clock to look at my car.

This meant I had a genuine reason for leaving early, thus avoiding Eddie.

I left Fortnum’s at 1:30 pm because I had to take the bus and I met Smithie’s friend at my Honda. He tinkered around under the hood for a couple of seconds then straightened up and wiped his hands on his greasy, blue coveral s.

“Gonna hafta tow this in,” he told me.

Oh no.

“Is it bad?” I asked.

“Can’t tel . Need to get in there.”

Wonderful.

“I can’t tow it today, I’l have the wrecker here tomorrow some time.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

I cal ed JoJo to arrange a ride while I watched the mechanic drive away. Then, I dragged my behind up to the apartment, looking forward to sleeping for a ful three hours before having to go into Smithie’s.

When I opened the door to the apartment Mom shouted,

“Oh good! You’re early.”

I walked into the living room, Trixie was there and it looked like a Beauty Salon Bomb had exploded.

“Hooray! I’l have more time to work,” Trixie said.

I absolutely loved Trixie. She’d had dyed red hair for as long as I could remember. She wore it teased out big. It looked good on her. She was petite, had happy, brown eyes and the most beautiful hands I’d ever seen on anyone.

She had what I thought of as an artist’s hands.

“Trixie, what are you doing here?” I asked as I gave her a hug. Trixie usual y came to visit Mom on a Monday.

“Surprise! You’re getting a manicure, pedicure, facial and highlights.”

I did a mental groan.

“Trixie…”

“Nope. No arguments this time. Your Mom says you’re worn out; so today, it’s al about you. It’s Jet’s Day of Beauty.”

I needed a manicure and highlights like I needed a hole in the head. Both required maintenance and maintenance required time and money and I had neither of those.

Trixie was dashing around the room, getting prepared and Mom was smiling her glamorous lopsided smile. They thought they were doing me a favor. They thought this was a good thing.

Damn. How did you say no to that?

Trixie put one of our dining room chairs in the living room, I sat in it and she swooped a drape around me.

“Oscar came in today,” I said to Mom.

“Real y? How is Oscar?” Mom replied, feigning innocent surprise.

“I don’t know, since most of the time he was there he was yel ing at Eddie in Spanish and the rest of the time he was yel ing at him in English and any leftover time he was yel ing at me.”

“Oh dear,” Trixie said.

“That didn’t go as planned,” Mom said to Trixie.

My mother.

If I didn’t love her, I’d kil her.

Trixie started mixing some gunk in a little bowl with a wide flat paintbrush and shrugged at Mom.

“Everything’s okay with Eddie so you can stop meddling,” I told them.

“I better cal Javier,” Mom said quietly.

See what I mean?

“How
okay
are things with Eddie?” Trixie asked, giving me a wide-eyed, nosy stare.

I looked to the ceiling and asked for deliverance.