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Authors: D Jordan Redhawk

Warlord Metal (6 page)

BOOK: Warlord Metal
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Jordan felt a sudden flash of anger. What the fuck? Why'd I even bother? She looked away and shrugged with nonchalance, gaining some composure. "No biggie," she drawled. "It's been a long day for you. Maybe tomorrow." It's just a fucking crossword puzzle, Jordie. Don't get all bent outta shape.

The teenager actually flinched away from the fiery green eyes before they looked away. As the woman said her piece and turned to leave, she juggled her armload and reached out to stop her. The muscle under her arm stiffened, but when the guitarist turned back, she was grinning. Did I make her mad or not? "If you want, we can still do it," she offered tentatively.

Jordan turned further around, effectively pulling her shoulder away from the dark girl's touch. What's your problem, Jordie? She's just a kid! Jesus! "Naw, it's cool. Lando invited me over to his place tonight anyway. If I'm lucky, I can catch a ride before they leave."

"Oh." Sonny looked down and chewed her lower lip, feeling sad and angry for some strange reason. She peered from beneath her dark bangs. "Tomorrow then?"

Jordan's rather forced grin became a more natural smile. "Yeah. Tomorrow's good." There was an awkward silence. "Well, happy birthday, squirt," the woman finally said.

"Thanks." Another pause. "I'll see you tomorrow then...." A statement that wasn't quite a question.

The guitarist had moved away. "Yeah. I'll be there," she tossed over her shoulder. She got a couple of more steps away before slapping her forehead. "I forgot to give you your present!" she said with a grin, returning to the girl.

"Oh, no, Jordan. You don't need to --" and then Sonny became speechless.

Jordan had whipped off the knit hat she had been wearing all evening. Long, red gold hair tumbled down to her shoulders. She smiled at the girl's response.

"Wow!" Sonny finally breathed.

Emerald eyes sparked and caught fire. "This is what you wanted, isn't it?" she purred.

The teenager's mouth was suddenly dry. "Um... yeah.... Yeah! It's just...." She tripped over her own tongue. "Wow."

Jordan ran hands through her hair. "Glad you like it."

"Oh, yeah. I do! Are you....? Are you going to keep it this way now?" The girl held her breath in anticipation.

The woman studied the dark girl. "Maybe," she finally conceded. A glance over her shoulder and she said, "There's Lando! Gotta go!" and trotted away.

Sonny watched the lights overhead play in the red gold tresses. "Wow," she whispered.

 

Sept 10, 1999

Well, the first week of school is officially over. Thank God! I can't believe I actually missed this torture during the summer!! Might as well just tattoo a huge "S" on my forehead - "SUCKER!"

Tonight's the first school dance of the year. Pete Bailey asked me to go with him. He plays center on the basketball team. I'm looking forward to it.

Jordan just walked by (I'm in the living room.) She's still got her natural hair. Well, not exactly natural - she had to dye it back to what it should be. I'm surprised she hasn't had it redone in purple or lime green or something...

"Oh, yeah, baby. That's it," Jordan crooned, eyes closed. She was relatively fully dressed, her flannel shirt open and hanging loosely. She was seated in a wooden chair in her room, a completely naked woman kneeling between her legs and nibbling at her breasts. "Harder," she purred as she felt teeth brush the jewelry on one nipple.

The dark haired beauty complied, biting down. The resulting growl from above sent a rush of tingles through her body. There was a bit of pain in the back of her head where the guitarist's fingers were buried in her hair, pulling as the grip tightened.

There was a knock on the door and the naked woman started to pull back. Instead, she was pushed further into place.

"Ignore it," Jordan ordered in a husky voice. "They'll go away." If they know what's good for 'em!

There was another knock, louder and more insistent. The redhead could hear a man's voice through the door. The woman's mouth had frozen in place and dark brown eyes rolled between trying to see the door behind her and peering up at the guitarist who was rapidly getting angry.

Jordan cursed and pulled the woman's head away. She rose to her feet, using her grip for leverage. Feeling movement beneath her fingers, she glared down at the dark woman. "Don't move from this spot," she growled, planting a fierce kiss on ruby lips. And then she broke away and stalked to the door.

Even as she reached it, another round of pounding resumed. Jordan threw the door open and glared at the intruder. "What the fuck do you want?" she demanded with a scowl.

Middlestead was a little taken aback by her vehemence. He stared blankly at Jordan, his fist still in the air from his aborted attempt at knocking.

"Well?!" the redhead snapped.

"Uh." the man shook his head and dropped his hand. "Sonny's, uh... not in here, is she?" he asked, gaze flickering over the smaller woman's shoulder. He caught sight of a naked feminine back, but the hair color wasn't right. Good thing, too, he thought with a hint of anger. I'd have to kill my guitarist if that was Sonny. His glance returned to his band mate, finally realizing that her shirt was open and her attributes were bared for his view. So they are pierced! Middlestead blushed, mouth dry, and forced himself to look back into Jordan's eyes.

"No," the woman said slowly, as if to an idiot. "She is not here. Nor would she be at..." and she craned her neck to see her alarm clock, "...three thirty in the morning." Despite her anger at the interruption, she glared at the man and asked, "Have you looked in her room?"

"Yes! Of course I looked in her room!" the drummer snapped. "When I got home, I was gonna check on her before bed. She's not in the house, Jordan!" Anger and worry fought for dominance within. "She's never done this before."

Jordan shrugged. "Maybe she just decided to spend the night at Shelly's. It is a weekend."

Middlestead shook his head. "She's not there. I've spent the last twenty minutes calling all her friends, rousting families out of bed. Nobody's seen her since the dance."

A trickle of worry ran through the redhead like ice water. Flippantly, she shrugged, "Maybe she's making out in the back seat of her date's car." Jordan felt the wrongness of it even as the words left her lips. "Whatever.... Who was her date, anyway?"

Running a hand through his dark hair in concern, Middlestead winced and looked away. "I don't know. Pete Something, I think."

Jordan's anger flared again. "Your sixteen year old sister is out on a date with a high school jock and you don't even know who the hell it is?!"

"Look, I'm her brother, damn it! Not her parent!" was the defensive answer.

"Well, here's a clue, pal," Jordan said acidly, buttoning up her shirt. "Time's like these are when you're supposed to act like a parent. Whether you want to or not." Oh, yeah, Jordie! Miss 'Oh-So-Superior' is now an expert on child rearing.

Middlestead's face was pained but he offered no argument.

The guitarist took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Opening them again, her frustration contained for the moment, she said, "Go back inside and call Shelly again. She'll know what the kid's name is. I'll be down in a minute." She used her chin to indicate the woman still kneeling behind her. "I've gotta take care of something first."

The man nodded in silent relief. He turned and hustled down the stairs.

Jordan shook her head and rolled her eyes. Men! Can't live with 'em! Can't shoot 'em! She shut the door and turned back to her evening's entertainment.

As Middlestead hung up the phone, he heard the patio door slide closed. Craning his neck from his place in the living room, he saw his band mate coming towards him.

"Find out his name?" she asked as she put on her leather jacket.

"Yeah! Pete Bailey. But Shelly didn't know where he lives or anything."

Jordan nodded and proceeded towards the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Middlestead asked with a frown. When he got no answer, he followed the small woman up the stairs and into his sister's room. "I told you she wasn't here."

Ignoring him, the redhead switched on the light. Good thing she's a neat freak, she thought. On the girl's nightstand was a phone and Jordan made her way towards it. Opening the drawer, she said, "Bingo," and pulled out a school directory. She flipped through it.

Middlestead slapped his forehead. "Crap! I didn't even think of that!"

The woman shrugged and picked up the phone. "No reason you should have," she said calmly as she dialed a number. "You're too worried to think straight right now."

There was a pause while she waited for someone to answer the line. The man behind her began pacing nervously.

"...Hullo...?" asked a sleepy male voice.

"Yes. I'd like to speak with Pete Bailey."

"Wha...? Lady, it's four in the morning," the voice grumbled.

"Yeah, I know. And I'd like to know why my... sister hasn't made it home from her date with Pete." There was a pause before she added, "Unless he didn't come home, either...."

There was a rustling sound and murmured voices. "Look uh.... What's your name?"

"Jordan."

"Uh, Jordan... Look, my boy's been home since a little after one. I saw him myself. I don't know where your sister is."

"May I speak with Pete then? He can tell me where he last saw her."

There was a pause as the man processed this. "Yeah. Okay. Hold on and I'll get him." Then the sound of the phone as it was laid down.

Middlestead paced nearby. When there was no more said, he stopped and said urgently, "Well!?"

"Shhhh," Jordan waved him down with a glare. "They're waking the kid up now. It's been several hours - a few more minutes ain't gonna make a difference."

"Easy for you to say," he grumbled as he resumed his pacing.

There were more voices on the other end of the line. Finally, a young man was put on.

"Hello?" he asked tentatively.

"Pete?" Jordan paused.

Her band mate heard a distinct difference in her voice and stopped to gawk at the redhead.

"Yeah?"

"Let's get something clear right from the beginning," she said pleasantly. "If anything has happened to Sonny, either by your own hand or your own ineptitude, you are going to be in severe need of traction. You don't know me. You don't know what I look like. You'll never know if I'm across the room or right beside you. And whatever I do, keep in mind... I hold a grudge. Do we have an understanding?"

"Yes." There was a slight pause before the shaky voice said with a rush, "I didn't do anything to her, I swear!"

"When was the last time you saw her?"

"Just before I came home. Quarter after one maybe? Give or take a few minutes."

Emerald eyes narrowed. "The dance didn't go that late. They would have let you out before curfew. Where did you last see her?"

There was silence.

"Keep in mind that your future of having children is on the line," Jordan growled. "Where did you last see her?"

"Up at Washington Park," he answered slowly, the information being forced from him. "There's a place near there... on a side road, ya know. Where kids... uh... hang out."

"You mean make out, don't you?" Not waiting for a response, Jordan asked, "Why'd you leave her there, Pete?"

There was the audible sound of swallowing. "We... uh... We got into an argument. She started yelling and jumped out of the car." His voice became an octave higher. "I didn't want to leave her, I swear! She just walked off! I followed her for several blocks but she wouldn't get back in the car so I could take her home!"

Doing nothing to soothe the teenager's fear, Jordan got the street name and directions from him.

"Um... Sonny doesn't have a sister," Bailey said in a shaky voice when they were finished. "Who are you?"

There was a long silence. "I could be your worst nightmare," Jordan rumbled before hanging up.

Middlestead stepped back and away as the woman turned towards him and the door. Her green eyes appeared to be lit by an inner fire and her mouth was curled in a feral smile. "Where is she? Is she okay?"

"I don't know but I'm gonna find out." Jordan rattled a strange set of keys. "I'm gonna take a cruise in whatsername's car and see if I can scare her up."

"I'm going, too," the man insisted stubbornly as he followed her down the stairs. The redhead stopped so abruptly that he plowed into her and they both almost took a tumble.

"No, you are going to stay here in case she shows up or calls," she ordered.

Despite himself, Middlestead took a step upwards and away from her intense glare. "But..."

"No, buts," she growled. "You don't know the bus system and I do. I can already tell you two ways she would have gone." Jordan turned and began her descent again, continuing. "She obviously either missed the bus entirely or missed the connection and has been walking."

Middlestead trotted down the stairs after her, trying to think of a reason to go. "Two cars, two search parties. We could cover more ground in less time," he suggested.

Jordan opened the door and turned back to the worried man. "Look, Tom," she said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Best case scenario - I find her and you don't. You keep looking, worried sick, until dawn and you come home to find her asleep in her own bed."

He considered this with a frown before standing straighter and shrugging his shoulders, not convinced.

The redhead scowled at him and continued, an edge to her voice. "Worst case scenario - there's been a horrible accident, she needs emergency surgery and your signature on the paperwork. You're not here to get the call. She's dead and you're guilty." She glared at him. "You like that one better?"

Middlestead gulped, fear showing in his eyes. He searched the guitarist's unflinching gaze, finally breaking contact and looking down. "No," he said softly.

"I'll probably pick her up inside of an hour. I'll have her call when I do, okay?"

The drummer nodded.

"Okay. Later then." And Jordan went out the door.

I swear! All they ever think with is their... dicks! Sonny fumed. "What is it with guys?!" she demanded of the night sky.

BOOK: Warlord Metal
8.58Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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