“I’m not sure you have a choice.”
I was proud of myself, it came out with attitude and conviction. Enough to make his dark eyes flare. I thought he was angry, for a second, then he got over it and his lips twitched.
“Chavez is fucked.”
I didn’t know what that meant and I didn’t ask.
Vance looked at Indy. “We’re goin’ to Zip’s.” Immediately, Indy clapped and cried, “Yippee!”
“Zip’s?” I asked.
“It’s a gun shop,” Indy said.
“What?” I kind of yel ed.
Why on earth did we need a gun shop?
Vance answered my unasked question. “I’m not gonna help, but I’m not lettin’ you two loose in Denver without protection. We’re goin’ to get you some gear.” He turned to Indy, “You take your car, Jet’s on the Harley with me.” Harley?
As in, Harley Davidson motorcycle?
With Vance?
No.
No, no, no and real y, no.
“I’l go with Indy,” I said.
“You aren’t out of sight on my watch,” Vance announced in a Tough Guy therefore No Discussion Voice.
Wonderful.
*
I’d never ridden on the back of a motorcycle in my life, much less a Harley. I had to admit, I liked it.
I liked it a lot.
I found out that Zip didn’t only sel guns, ole Zip sold a lot of different kinds of guns, handguns, shotguns, rifles. He also sold knives, ammo, stun guns, tasers, mace, pepper spray and calendars with my sister’s picture on the front. I pointed this out to Indy while Vance wasn’t paying attention.
“Nice,” she said, looking at Lottie wearing a barely there bikini, her body completely wet, her hair surprisingly dry and balancing precariously on a BMW motorcycle.
Vance outfitted us with stun guns, tasers and pepper spray. He explained how to use them, he gave instruction on how to be safe and he tried to pay.
I argued.
He gave me a Tough Guy Look.
I pul ed out The Glare.
While al this was going on, Indy paid.
That was okay with me, I could owe Indy. I didn’t expect her favor had anything to do with my Smithie’s uniform.
We were on our way back to Fortnum’s, our bag of goodies in Indy’s Beetle, Indy fol owing us. We didn’t have a lot of time before we had to meet Daisy at the Oxford Hotel lot of time before we had to meet Daisy at the Oxford Hotel for a drink and I was getting fidgety. I didn’t want to keep Daisy waiting, she could be scary.
We were stopped at a light on Colfax and I was pressed against Vance, my crotch to his ass, my chest to his back, my chin kinda resting on his shoulder. He drove fast and hard. I tried holding onto his waist and keeping a distance but I nearly went ass over head off the back of the bike when he shot from the curb.
It was a wrap-your-arms-around-and-hold-on-for-dear-life kind of ride.
A car rol ed to a stop at the light and I automatical y looked to my right.
My eyes widened at what I saw and I think I screamed a little inside my helmet. Sitting in the driver’s seat was Eddie, he was looking out the window, his mirrored shades directed at me, the rest of his face wearing a murderous expression.
I had on a helmet but I was also wearing a distinctive scarlet-red t-shirt, my hair was coming out the back of the helmet because I had to take out my ponytail holder, I was with Vance and Indy’s car was right behind us. It wouldn’t take a police detective to figure out it was me but Eddie was a police detective and from the expression on Eddie’s face, he’d figured it out.
Damn.
Damn, damn, damn.
There was a toot on the horn behind us, Vance looked in his mirror and I looked behind. Indy was gesturing to her side and to Eddie. I looked at the car pul ed up next to her.
Eddie was being trailed by a Crossfire, Lee’s Crossfire, with Lee behind the wheel.
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Vance looked right, not wearing a helmet; he made a hand gesture salute to Eddie, two fingers straight out and a flick of the wrist. Mr. Cool.
We al drove together to Fortnum’s, Vance and I leading the new definition of My Convoy of Doom. The entire time I tried to come up with a plausible explanation, in other words, a believable lie.
Vance pul ed in up front, Indy and Lee parked in the back, Eddie parked behind us. I was off the bike and had the helmet off when Eddie arrived.
“What the fuck?” Eddie asked, looking at Vance and using his scary quiet voice.
Vance had come off the bike and was smiling, flat out. I didn’t think this was good, I thought it was kind of in your face. Even though it was not helping the situation, I had to say, I admired Vance for having the bal s to pul it off.
I decided to neutralize the situation.
“Eddie, I can explain,” I said.
His eyes turned to me. He had his arms crossed on his chest, his legs planted wide and I wished I’d let him take his anger out on Vance. Vance was a badass too, at least it would be a fair fight.
“Yeah?” Eddie asked, his voice dripping with disbelief.