Rock Chick Redemption (Rock Chick, #3)

He shrugged.

My head turned slowly to look at Hank. He was looking pleased with himself. That was when my body turned slowly to face Hank. “You know anything about this?” His lips twitched. “Might do.”

My hands fisted at my sides, I stomped my foot and let out strangled noise.

Hank did a ful on smile, tagged me around the waist and pul ed me into his body. “Told you you were stayin’,” he said.

“I… you…” I stopped and made the strangled noise again.

One of his arms wrapped around my waist, the other one slid into my hair.

“God, you’re cute,” he said.

“You’re a jerk,” I replied.

He shook his head, then bent it and kissed me dizzy.

I blinked up at him when he was done.



Then he said, “This is fun.”



*

Hank took me to Fortnum’s and everyone was there; Indy, Lee, Al y, Daisy, Uncle Tex, Duke, Jet and Eddie. It was like they were waiting for the show.

I stomped in and Duke opened his mouth to speak but I put up my hand.

“I don’t want to hear it. So, yeah, you cal ed it. I put you al through the mil . It wasn’t like I wanted to be assaulted and abducted,” I snapped at him.

“I was just gonna say, good to see you safe,” Duke said.

“Wel …” I huffed, the wind out of my sails, “Thank you.” He shook his head at me like he wondered about my sanity. I couldn’t say I blamed him: I was beginning to wonder about my sanity too.

“You’re welcome,” he replied.

Hank stood close to my side and I looked up to him.

“Don’t you have to go to work or something? Interrogate suspects? File reports? Testify in court? That kind of thing,” I asked, sounding uppity.

He put his arm around my shoulders and dipped his face to mine, his eyes smiling, his mouth not. “It’s Sunday, I only interrogate suspects on weekdays if I can manage it.” My head jerked. “It’s Sunday?”

“Yeah.”

Shit. I’d been away a week.

“My life’s a shambles,” I whispered.

He squeezed my shoulder and, for some reason, I felt reassured.



I had no time to process my feelings of reassurance as Daisy bel ied up to us, looking up at Hank. “Back off, big boy. You’ve had her long enough. We got girl talk.” Then she grabbed my hand and pul ed me into the shelves of books.

We turned in the P-Q-R-S section and I noticed Al y, Indy and Jet had fol owed us.

“So, you’re back with Hank,” Indy was smiling.

“I’m leaving town as soon as I can get my car,” I told her.

Her smile faded.

“Where’s your car?” Jet asked.

“Hank had it impounded,” I answered.

Indy’s smile came back.

“He doesn’t want me to leave,” I explained unnecessarily.

“You are so not gonna leave,” Al y said, she was smiling too.

I looked at her. “I’m gonna leave,” I said it and meant it.

“You are so not gonna leave,” Al y repeated.

Indy came closer to me. “Roxie, you should know, once, when Hank wanted a motorcycle, and his Dad told him he’d have to buy it with his own money, Hank got, like ten jobs.

He worked himself to the bone, getting up early, working late nights. He even did it and went to footbal practice and games. In the end, he got that motorcycle.”

“Hank drives a motorcycle?” I asked.

Al y ignored my question and shared her own story.

“Yeah, I remember when Hank decided he was going to buy a house in Bonnie Brae. He wanted to be close to where he grew up and have a place in a neighborhood where he could teach his kids how to ride their bikes on the sidewalks without fear of a drive-by. Property values were out the roof; no way to buy there on a cop’s salary.

Everyone expected he’d give it up. When he found his place, it was a total dump. No one wanted it except to buy it for the lot and scrape it. Hank paid more than it was worth and fixed it up himself.”

I was kind of lost in thoughts of Hank teaching his kids to ride their bikes when Daisy said, “Earth to Roxie.”

“What?” I said.

“Why do you want to leave?” Daisy asked.

“It’s too complicated to explain,” I told her.

They al looked at each other then looked at me.

“It is!” I cried.

“Whatever,” Al y said, dismissing my life’s complications with a single word. “Are you gonna go to Frightmare with us tomorrow night?”

Good God.

“Frightmare?” I asked.

“Yeah, the Haunted House in Thornton. It is the shit,” Al y said.

“I’m not good at doing scary,” I replied, thinking I’d had enough of scary in the last week, thank you very much.

“Oh, it’s al in fun,” Indy coaxed.

I turned to Indy. “Hank told me you went berserk and broke through hay bales and they had to cal the cops. That doesn’t sound like fun.”

Al y and Indy looked at each other, then burst out laughing. They were doing it so hard they doubled over with it.

Jet, Daisy and I watched them.

They final y sobered and straightened. Al y wiped a tear from her eye and muttered, “I remember that year. Good times.”

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