Rock Chick 02 Rescue (23 page)

“I don’t have that kind of money! The car isn’t even
worth
that kind of money!”

He looked back at Eddie as Eddie’s hand slid against the smal of my back.

“It’s taken care of,” Mr. Greasy Coveral s said at the exact same time that Eddie said, “Jet.”

“Taken…” I started to say and then it hit me. Mom, Ada and me watching through the window as Eddie talked to Mr. Greasy Coveral s.

I turned and stared at Eddie. “You didn’t.” A car swung in, Mr. Greasy Coveral s handed Eddie my car keys and got in the other car and took off. I didn’t take my eyes off Eddie the whole time.

“Tel me you didn’t,” I demanded.

He watched me closely.

“I did,” he replied.

I considered scratching his eyes out. Then I thought that probably wasn’t very nice, I mean, he just spent, like, a thousand dol ars on my piece of shit car.

Then I considered screaming. But I decided to reserve my energy. Who knew what was going to happen next and I needed to be prepared.

So, instead, I stomped to the truck. I wrenched open the door to get the grocery bags but I was pul ed out of the way and the door was shut by Eddie.

That was it, I could take no more, and I whirled around to face him.

“I’l pay you back, every penny. The minute we get upstairs, I’l write you a check.”

It would almost break the bank but I was going to do it.

“I’m not gonna take your money,” he said.

“You are. I don’t like to be indebted to anyone.”
Especially not you
, I thought but did not say.

Especially not you
, I thought but did not say.

His hand went to my bel y and he pushed me gently against the truck.

“That’s the point. I
want
you indebted to me.” He
what
?

“You
what
?” I yel ed.

He closed in and I had nowhere to retreat. Anyway, I was too freaked out to retreat.

“If you’re indebted to me, you’re connected to me.

Whatever makes you take care of your Mom, your Dad, kids getting chemo and friends who make bad decisions on who to date is gonna make you stay connected to me because you owe me. You aren’t connected to me, the minute this is al over with your Dad, you’re gone. I’m makin’

certain that doesn’t happen.”

I didn’t know what to say. He’d total y figured me out.

How did
that
happen?

Nevertheless, I tried to speak.

“I… you…”

He cut me off, bent his head closer and started talking. I could smel him and I could feel his heat and I had to admit, it was getting to me.

“Whatever your next disaster, I’m gonna be there. Buying your groceries, fixin’ your car, dealin’ with your Dad, I don’t give a fuck. I want you to owe me, it gives me the upper hand and I’m gonna need the upper hand to wear you down. And Jet…”

He stopped, he was looking into my eyes and he had that look he had this morning, after Mom and Lavonne came home and before I walked out of my room. The look made my bel y feel funny and my knees get weak.

“What?” I asked. Honestly the suspense was kil ing me.

“There’s one thing today proved.”

He moved in even closer, his body was brushing mine and his face was an inch away.

“
What
?” I kind of shouted. What could I say? It’d been a rough day; I was close to losing it.

“Whatever happens, you’re worth it and I don’t want to hear you say again that you’re not. Get me?” I felt that warm strangeness hit me and I had no choice but to nod.

“I’l get it!” Mom yel ed.

I was in the kitchen, finishing dinner, freaking out and I knew Eddie was at the door. He’d left after helping me bring up the groceries, saying he had things to do. I was glad for the break. He was getting to me, wearing me down like he said he would, and I needed to regroup.

I’d done my chores and then got ready for Smithie’s so I was in my slut makeup but wearing my day outfit. I’d change into my Smithie’s uniform at the very last minute.

Mom had gone weirdly quiet, sensing my mood, but also, I thought, she was up to something. I couldn’t worry about it. I had enough worries to last a lifetime.

Mom wheeled into the door of the kitchen. She’d overtaxed herself that day and I could see the exhaustion in her face. Nonetheless, she wasn’t missing tonight, no way, no how. When I told her Eddie was coming to dinner, she’d put both her hands to her cheeks, her mouth dropped open and tears fil ed her eyes. Such was the reaction of Moms with big dreams for their daughters when hot guys with good jobs and fancy trucks came over to dinner.

I decided to wait to tel her we were going to Blanca’s tomorrow. She was already residing on cloud nine, it was too soon for a promotion to cloud ten.

“Eddie’s here,” she told me unnecessarily as I could feel his presence in the house with senses honed from months of Eddie Torture.

“Great, dinner’s ready. Everyone at the table,” I ordered abruptly.

I had planned the evening closely. We had an hour and a half to eat dinner and in that time I also had to change and get to work. It was enough time not to seem rude (or, at least, not
too
rude) but not enough time for true disaster to fal .

Or so I thought.

“But…” Mom said, “shouldn’t we offer him a drink?

Maybe sit and have a chat?”

I did not
think
so. No chats. Eddie could drink at the table while forking food in his mouth.

“No time, supper’s done and I’m about to mash the potatoes. Go, go, go!”

Mom wheeled out, defying my order and intent on being both meddling and polite, “I’m asking him what he wants to drink.”

“Just do it in a hurry,” I cal ed after her, knowing Eddie probably could hear. “We don’t want cold potatoes.” I hid in the kitchen, fiddling over the final touches. I knew this was the act of a supreme wuss, but I didn’t care. Mom came in, made Eddie an iced tea, then Mom went out.

I put food in serving dishes and started to head to the table. I’d made chicken fried steak, an enormous mound of mashed potatoes, peppered white gravy and green beans.

Mom forced me into frying al eight beef cutlets I bought, rather than just four, tel ing me Eddie was a man and men were big eaters. I’d never known anyone who could eat two huge chicken fried steaks, much less five, but who cared. I didn’t have the energy to fight her.

Maybe he could.

Maybe he would, just to be nice, and then he’d lapse into a food coma. I was focusing on the next hour and a half and hoping I’d survive it. An Eddie Food Coma would just be a bonus.

“Let’s eat,” I announced, walking into the living room and heading toward the dining table. I was balancing two bowls and a platter and nearly dropped them when Eddie looked at me.

The minute he saw me, his eyes got funny, kind of lazy, amused and assessing al at the same time. His eyelids came down just a bit, the corners of his lips turned up and his dimple came out.

“I’l go get the gravy,” Mom said and wheeled away, guiding herself with her foot.

I set the food on the table, busy, busy, busy. I was just noticing the table Mom laid was set for five, rather than three when I felt Eddie come up behind me.

“Take a seat,” I said, not turning to look at him and not caring if I seemed impolite.

I was back to my Bitch Strategy. I was counting on the fact that no one real y wanted to be around a bitch, not even Eddie.

His hands went low on my hips, I felt pressure there and he turned me around. His hands slid around me, stil low on my hips so they settled at the top of my behind and he pressed me close.

I looked up, the lazy look was stil on his face but he was smiling ful now.

I took a mental deep breath.

“Food’s gonna get cold,” I warned.

“What’s the matter now?” he asked.

I blinked.

“What do you mean? Nothing’s the matter.” He watched me and then something lit in his eyes. I didn’t know what that something was but, by the look of it, it was something that made Eddie very happy.

“You’re scared of me,” he murmured, pul ing me closer.

I blinked again and my body got stiff. “I’m not scared of you,” I lied.

The smile was there but now it, too, turned lazy and somehow… satisfied.

“Yeah, you are.”

“Am not,” I said.

“You are and you should be.”

My eyes got round.

“Why?”

“Because, you don’t give it, I’m gonna take it and you know it.”

“Give what?”

“Anything,” he said and his mouth came to mine,

“Everything.”

Dear Lord.

My breath caught. My doo-da quivered. I grabbed onto his biceps and he kissed me. I slipped firmly into the Eddie Daze and, I’m afraid to say, kissed him back. When he lifted his head, it took a few seconds for me to open my eyes.

“
Chiquita
, you’re too adorable,” he muttered, watching me, the lazy look gone, the hungry look in its place.

The buzzer went and I jumped.

“I’l get it!” Mom yel ed and immediately exited the kitchen, her snail’s pace fetching of the gravy explained. I knew she was giving Eddie and me a moment and probably eavesdropping at the same time. If her fast advance from the kitchen was anything to go by, she’d positioned herself right at the door.

My life sucked.

“I real y don’t like you,” I said, taking it out on Eddie.

He just smiled.

He let go but stayed close and I turned.

Ada walked in, Mom fol owing, stil carrying the gravy.

That explained place setting number four and Mom making me prepare enough food for an army. I had a sneaking suspicion as to who was going to be at number five and my eyes narrowed on my mother. She ignored me.

“Jet, you look pretty,” Ada said and I bent to give her a kiss.

Only Ada would describe my slut makeup as pretty.

“Hey Ada.” I greeted her.

She looked at Eddie and her eyes lit.

“And you’re Eddie.”

She offered her hand, Eddie took it and smiled at her.

She turned her bright gaze to me. “He’s a looker.” She wasn’t wrong.

“Food’s gonna get cold,” I repeated, beginning to feel both panicked and ticked off, neither of which I could let loose at that particular moment.

“But Trixie hasn’t arrived yet,” Mom said as everyone started to take their places at the round table.

“She’l have to catch up,” I replied, scooting as both Mom and Ada bumped me around like I was the bal in a pinbal machine, adeptly forcing me to sit next to Eddie.

Damn.

Damn, damn,
damn
.

“Jet tel s me you’re an officer of the law,” Ada said as we

“Jet tel s me you’re an officer of the law,” Ada said as we started to pass food around, Mom shakily pouring iced tea for everyone. I knew better than to take it away from her, she was chal enging herself, like the therapists told her to do, showing off in front of Eddie. Though, I wished she wouldn’t do it while dealing with liquids.

“Yeah,” Eddie replied, taking a chicken fried steak and then handing the platter to me.

“Have you ever been in a high-speed chase?” Ada asked, passing Eddie the green beans.

“Once or twice,” Eddie answered, taking beans.

Ada’s eyes got round, handing over the potatoes.

“Did anyone crash?”

“No.”

She looked disappointed then she ral ied, “Ever been in a shoot out?”

Eddie mounded potatoes on his plate, his eyes sliding to me, then back to Ada.

“Yeah.”

My heart skipped a beat at the thought of Eddie in a shoot out. He’d joked about it this morning and it never crossed my mind how dangerous his job real y was.

“Ever been shot?” Ada asked, excitedly.

I held my breath and my body tensed.

“No.”

I felt my body relax.

Thank God.

Ada’s lips pursed; denied the gory details.

“Ever shot anyone?” she asked, relentless, handing him the gravy.

the gravy.

“Yeah.”

Ada’s face brightened.

My breath stuck at the thought of Eddie shooting someone. He always seemed like a dangerous, badass guy but shooting someone took it to a new level.

I looked at him out of the corners of my eyes and could see he was being polite but didn’t want to talk about it.

Then again, who’d want to talk about shooting someone, even a bad someone, even if you were a dangerous, badass guy?

Ada opened her mouth to say something else and I interrupted her.

“Ada, honey, maybe you and Eddie can talk about shooting people after we eat.”

Her mouth snapped shut in frustration. Eddie’s hand went under the table and he ran his fingers up the side of my thigh. I guessed that was his way of saying a silent thank you.

I had to admit, I liked it.

Ada tried a different tact, “Do the police stil do those ride-alongs, you know, where they take civilians on patrol?” Eddie looked at me again, then he started to cut into his steak. “Sure,” he answered.

Ada bumped into Mom on cloud nine, then she went for the gold, “Do they take senior citizens? I’m eighty-one, but, I swear, I have the reflexes of a sixty year old.” I stopped with a fork ful of steak, potatoes and gravy halfway to my mouth, wanting to see how Eddie got out of this and not about to help him this time.

this and not about to help him this time.

“Probably not,” he replied honestly, not pausing in his eating.

He chewed and swal owed.