Rock Chick Renegade (Rock Chick, #4)



“Speakin’ of that, what’s this I hear of you goin’ hand-to-hand with Jermaine and Clarence?”

“I took Jermaine down,” I told Heavy.

“Word is you went in after ‘em, confronted ‘em. What I train you, girl, is for defense, not offense. Got me?”

“They had a couple of runaways,” I explained.

“Shit, Jules. Now you’re gonna have every fuckin’

asshole on the street cal in’ you out. It’l be like the Wild Fuckin’ West. You learn quick and you’re gettin’ strong but you go up against one of them motherfuckers without surprise on your side, they’re gonna wipe the floor with you.”

My back went straight. “Heavy, don’t worry about it,” I said.

“I do worry about it,” he retorted.

“Wel , don’t,” I told him.

“I know you got Nightingale’s team at your back. They’re good but they got business to attend to, they can’t protect you every minute of the fuckin’ day,” Heavy went on.

“Vance won’t let anyone hurt her,” Indy decided to share, her face happy. Then she confided, leaning toward Heavy, “They’re going out.”

I looked to the ceiling, took in a deep breath and let it out on a loud, long sigh.

Damn.

When I looked back at Heavy he was staring at me again. “He fuck you yet?” Heavy asked.

“Uncle Charlie!” Indy snapped.

“Heavy!” I said at the same time.



Heavy kept his eyes on me. “Girl, that boy is a player. P-l-a-y-e-r. It wears a skirt, has a pretty face, long legs and a sweet ass, he’l charm it then he’l fuck it. You got al ‘a those in abundance.”

Indy was glaring at Heavy with her hands on her hips.

My eyes narrowed on Heavy. “Do not refer to women as ‘it’,” I warned. “This conversation is over.” Heavy opened his mouth to speak.

“Over! O-v-e-r,” I snapped in my word-is-law voice, using his own word-spel ing tactic against him to make my point and then I walked toward the garage door. “Let’s train.”



*

My phone rang in the car while I was pul ing the keys out of Hazel’s ignition. Indy and I were parked in the lot outside of Zip’s. The display said “Unknown cal er”. I flipped it open.

“Hel o?”

“Where are you?” It was Vance.

My heart did a funny flip. I mental y told it to behave.

“Wel , hel o to you too,” I replied.

“Where are you?” he repeated.

“At the library,” I lied.

“You’re sittin’ outside Zip’s.”

At his words, I looked around but didn’t see any Harleys or black Explorers.

I caught Indy’s eye and she mouthed, “Who is it?” I mouthed back, “Vance.”

“Jules,” Vance said in my ear.

“Where are you? ” I asked.



“Where are you? ” I asked.

“I’m standin’ in your living room, waitin’ to take you out to dinner.”

Whoops.

“Um…” I said.

“What’d I say about how I felt about bein’ stood up?”

“You said you’d cal ,” I told him.

“I got busy but our plans didn’t change.”

“Vance, I hate to tel you this but they were your plans.” He was silent. I didn’t take this as a good sign.

Final y, he warned in a low, quiet voice, “Don’t make me come after you.”

Yikes.

I bugged my eyes out at Indy. She bit her lip on a smile.

“How did you know where I was?” I asked, deciding to change the subject.

“I planted a device in your car,” he told me.

I sucked in breath and this time, my eyes, stil on Indy, went wide in shock.

Her smile faded and she mouthed, “What?”

“You planted a tracking device in my car?” I said slowly.

Indy put her hand to her open mouth.

“And in your bag,” Vance said.

“I do not believe you,” I hissed.

“Jules, get home.”

“I’m shooting then I’m going out for drinks with the girls,” I told him.

“Jules –”

I cut him off. “When’s this meet with Darius?”



“God dammit, Jules –”

“Forget it, I’l ask Indy to cal Lee. I’l see you there.” I flipped the phone shut and looked at Indy. “Can you cal Lee –?” I started.

She was nodding, already digging through her purse.

“I’m on it,” she said.



*

When we walked into Zip’s, Indy had her phone to her ear and she stood just inside the door while I approached Zip who was behind the counter. “Girl, you are loco,” Zip shouted at me the minute he saw me.

“Now… Zip,” I said placatingly, arriving across the counter from him.

“Do not ‘Zip’ me. You’re fuckin’ loony tunes. It’s like you sent out an engraved invitation to every fuckin’ asshole on the street, ‘You are cordial y invited to try and kick my ass.’

Shee-it.”

“Zip, let me –”

“And you got the Nightingale Boys backin’ you. Christ Almighty, girl. Those boys’re crazier than you.” His eyes went beyond me. “Fuck, is that Indy Savage?” Zip asked, staring at Indy.

Kristen Ashley's books