Rock Chick Regret (Rock Chick, #7)

“Stay calm, darlin’.” Duke’s gravelly voice came at me and my eyes sliced to him.

“You stay calm!” I snapped, again trying (and failing) to push at him. “My boyfriend’s out there!”

“He knows what he’s doin’ and there ain’t no way you can help him,” Duke shot back.

My heart racing, I glared at Duke, knowing he was right. Then I glared at Jet then at the trembling female customer who was huddled next to Jet and who looked like one of those grunge rock band people who needed a shower and shampoo.

Without any option open to me, I did the only thing I could do.

I made an empty threat.

“All I can say is, if this is a Balducci, I’m hunting him down and I’m going to rip his heart out with my bare hands and use it as a soccer ball!”

The Grunge Customer stared at me and slid a little closer to Jet.

I heard sirens and noticed that there weren’t any more gunshots.

“The shots have stopped,” I told Duke immediately.

“Stay low,” Duke replied.

“We need to see if Hector and Bobby are all right,” I went on.

“Sadie, stay low,” Duke repeated.

Even though I really didn’t want to, I stayed low and tried to deep breathe.

This was hard.

My eyes locked on Jet’s. She nodded reassuringly to me, put her arm around the trembling customer and pulled her close. I nodded back and pulled in more breath but no matter how deep they were, I couldn’t seem to get enough oxygen in my lungs.

We waited what seemed like four days.

Four long days.

Finally, I heard Bobby say from the front of the store, “Tex, Duke, Shirleen, we’re movin’ Sadie out.”

Before I could react to Bobby being back, Duke hauled me up and hustled me out from behind the book counter.

I saw Bobby, alive, no bullet holes or blood visible, seemingly fit as a fiddle standing at the door, gun in his hand. The black Nightingale Explorer was pulled up on the sidewalk right outside the front door.

“Hector?” I asked Bobby.

“He’s fine,” Bobby answered.

I pulled in more breath and finally felt oxygen hit my lungs.

Then, as if she couldn’t hear Bobby, I shouted toward the book counter, “Jet, he’s fine!”

“I heard! Get gone!” Jet’s voice shouted back.

“Indy?” I yelled.

“I’m fine, go!” I heard Indy yell back from behind the espresso counter.

“Tod, Stevie?” I called.

“Girlie, go!” Tod called back from somewhere in the bookshelves. “We’re fine.”

Before I could do any more, Shirleen, Tex and Duke got close and hurried me out while Bobby kept his gun up and his eyes peeled. In seconds flat, I was out the door, in the back of the Explorer and the door was closed. Shirleen climbed into the passenger side, Bobby behind the wheel and we took off.

“Where’s Hector?” I asked, buckling up.

“With Ricky,” Bobby replied.

It felt like a ten ton weight hit my chest and I stopped breathing entirely.

Luckily, Shirleen spoke for me. “What’d you say?”

“It was Ricky Balducci shootin’ at him. I drew his fire, Hector rounded the building, climbed the fire escape and got him,” Bobby answered.

Visions of Hector choking the life out of Ricky (or worse) filled my head. I started breathing again (more like hyperventilating) and yelled, “Go back! You can’t leave Hector with Ricky, he’s going to –”

“He had him disarmed, cuffed to a door and he’s got a gun on him,” Bobby interrupted me. “The cops were approachin’ when I left. Ricky’s facin’ rape, arson and now attempted murder. Hector assaults him, he fucks it up. Hector’s a wild man but ain’t no way he’s gonna fuck this up, no matter how much he wants to kick Balducci’s ass.”

This made sense and it made me stop hyperventilating.

Then another thought occurred to me.

“Why did you move me out?”

“Hector wants you at the offices,” Bobby answered.

“Why?” I pressed.

“I didn’t ask, I don’t care. He wants you there, I take you there. I follow orders and I don’t question them. Ever,” Bobby returned.

I decided (since Bobby had just been in a gunfight), that maybe now was not the time to be asking any more questions.

He took us to the offices and parked in the underground garage. I didn’t have time to have an emotional drama that I was back in the garage for the first time since I’d careened in there after being raped. Shirleen and Bobby hustled me out of the car, up the stairs and into the offices before I could blink.

Shirleen stayed in the reception area but Bobby took me straight through the door to the back rooms and into the surveillance room which was filled with a couple of desks, monitors, equipment and the big, muscular bulk that was Jack.

Jack turned to us, his eyes did a professional full body scan of me then they moved to Bobby.

“Got the call,” he told Bobby.

“Code One?” Bobby asked.

“Yup,” Jack replied.

I looked between them wondering who would explain.

“I’m off,” Bobby said then he was.

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