Rock Chick 02 Rescue (36 page)

I looked out the window.

“It’s just ‘cause you al like me,” I mumbled.

I wasn’t saying it to fish for compliments, in fact, I didn’t want to be on the subject at al .

Daisy’s hand took mine in a tight grip.

“Sugar, it’s true, I like you but ain’t no way I’d lead a girlfriend of mine into a world of hurt if she got herself caught up with some dickhead with his head up his ass.” Boy, Daisy didn’t mince words.

“You’re gorgeous,” Indy threw in.

“Please, let’s not talk about this,” I said.

“Eddie thinks you are,” Indy ignored me.

“Eddie wants to rescue me,” I explained.

Daisy emitted a tinkly laugh.

“Eddie wants a lot more than that. No man buys a coffee maker with a woman he wants to rescue. No way, no how.

He buys a coffee maker with a woman he wants to fuck. A lot. And for a good long time, and I don’t mean the fuckin’ I just mean time. Comprende?” Daisy said.

Dear Lord.

How could I
not
“comprende”?

“Vance thinks you’re hot,” Indy put in.

“Vance has seen me in my Smithie’s uniform,” I said.

“Hank hasn’t seen you in your Smithie’s uniform and he thinks you’re hot,” Al y said.

My mouth dropped open and I saw Indy’s hair turned to Al y.

“He tel you that?” Indy said.

“Heard him talking to Lee,” Al y said.

“Holy cow,” I said, in a state of, like,
total
shock, “Real y?”

“Yeah, um, I don’t get it. Do you
not
look in the mirror?” Al y asked.

“That’s what my sister says,” I told her.

“Sugar, I hope you don’t mind me sayin’, your Daddy left you ‘cause your Daddy’s a jackass not because you ain’t al that ‘cause I’m here to tel you, you are. Smithie won’t have a girl work for him who isn’t al that and that’s the God’s honest truth,” Daisy declared.

This was true. Every girl who worked at Smithie’s was hot. It was a job requirement.

“I thought Smithie felt sorry for me because of Mom.” Daisy let go of my hand and made a snorting noise with her nose.

“Smithie’d give you fifty dol ars and tel you to take a hike. He wouldn’t put you in heels and a skimpy outfit and have you traipse around his bar. The point is,
all
his girls gotta give the guys hard-ons and make ‘em want to hang around longer, order drinks and enjoy the show. He ain’t gonna make no money if he’s got some plain-ass bitch draggin’ around.”

I saw Indy’s hair nod.

So, al this was making sense to me, but it stil made me uncomfortable.

“Okay. Can we stop talking about how hot I am and giving guys hard-ons?” I asked.

“Sure, Sugar.” Daisy gave in as if it was al the same to her, “Let’s talk about your Eddie and his hard-ons. Do tel , does the promise of what I saw in those jeans hold true?

Please tel me it does. It would be
so
disappointing if he stuffed a sock down there or somethin’.”

I laughed. If Eddie used a sock his crotch would enter the room before he did.

“He doesn’t use a sock and he’s so
not
disappointing it’s kind of scary.”

“How scary?” Al y asked.

“Mind-bogglingly scary,” I answered.

“I’ve always wanted to know if Eddie was even close to the promise of Eddie ‘cause the promise of Eddie is seriously shit-hot.” Al y said.

I thought about Eddie. I thought about Mom leaning against Eddie. I thought about Eddie getting so angry on my behalf he’d punch out Bachelor Number One and throw my behalf he’d punch out Bachelor Number One and throw a phone into a margarita pitcher. I thought about Eddie’s hands and mouth on me. I thought about Eddie moving inside me. I thought about Eddie in the shower. I thought about being tucked up against Eddie on the couch.

I sighed, deep and huge.

Indy turned back in her seat, “I think that’s enough said.”

“You got
that
right, sister,” Al y agreed.

* * * * *

We arrived at the table, which was somewhere I didn’t know and somewhere I never wanted to go again. I just knew it was in the back of a seriously not-trendy bar and up some barely-lit stairs that didn’t smel good. Daisy knocked on a closed door and when the big guy opened it, he didn’t look happy to see her. Then he hid it and was al smiles.

“Daisy!” he said.

“Got a game goin’, Butch?” she asked.

“Sure Daisy,” Butch said.

“Room for me?” she asked.

“Always room for you, Daisy.” Then his eyes came to Indy, Al y and I and I wondered why he ended everything he said with “Daisy”.

“Those are just my girls, they’re not gonna play, just watch.”

He shuffled his feet. “I’m not sure about that Daisy,” he said.

“Where I go, my girls go.” She pushed in and I had to admire her even though she scared the shit out of me.

He was twice her size, which put him much tal er than al of us. I didn’t know about pushing into a room where I wasn’t wanted but Daisy was in and we had no choice but to fol ow.

We al traipsed in (at this point the Daisy-ettes) and sweet, Tinkly-Bel Laugh Daisy was al gone. This was Serious Kick-Butt Daisy.

“Boys,” she said, scanning the table.

The men at the table stared at her.

Then they stared at us.

They weren’t happy.

It wasn’t exactly Brad Pitt teaching wannabe megastars how to play poker in
Ocean’s Eleven
. It was dirty, smoky, smel ed of sweat and I didn’t like the idea of my Dad hanging out in such places, night after night. The thought of it was just plain sad.

They finished their game, found a chair and Daisy sat; Butch giving her chips when she gave him a rol of cash. My eyes bugged out when I saw the rol of cash but she turned to me and I saw her hair move in a “no” and I just stopped myself from giving out a little scream.

Indy, Al y and I stood quiet several feet away from the table. No one talked, it was al about the cards. Daisy folded for her first hand. She got beat on a bluff her second.

She won huge on her third.

While they were dealing the fourth, she spoke to the man at her side.

“Where’s Ray tonight?” she asked, calm as you please, like Dad was a frequent guest at dinner parties.

“Don’t know,” he mumbled, not looking at her.

“Marcus is lookin’ for him,” she said and the guy shrunk into himself.

“Thought he’d taken care of his thing with Marcus,” another guy said.

“This is a new thing,” Daisy replied.

“Ray’s a dumb fuck,” a different man said.

Now, I might have been mad at my Dad, but I didn’t like hearing someone cal him a dumb fuck. I tensed, visualizing my stun gun in my hand and Daisy, in mother bear mode, slid her eyes to me and her hair did another negative shake.

Daisy turned to Dumb Fuck Guy, “You know where he is tonight?”

“If he was smart, he’d be in Argentina. Since he’s not, he’s sittin’ a table somewhere.” His eyes met Daisy’s, “And no, I don’t know where.”

Daisy folded the next hand and lost huge (and I think on purpose) on the next. Then she got up, motioned to us and cashed out with Butch. We left the room and none of us said good-bye. They didn’t mind us being impolite.

We bel ied up to the bar down below, ordered drinks and stood there trying to ignore the stares we were getting.

“Can I just say, you are
the shit
,” Al y said to Daisy.

Indy and I nodded.

Tinkly-Bel Laugh Daisy was back.

“Thanks, Sugar,” she giggled.

“Did you lose that last hand on purpose?” I asked.

She nodded, “Not good form to go out a big winner, not if I don’t want to make trouble for my Marcus.” I had to admit, it was true, she was the shit. She knew everything.

“We stil don’t know where Jet’s Dad is,” Indy pointed out.

Okay, maybe not everything.

Daisy knocked back her vodka rocks.

“We ain’t done yet, neither.”

Off we trooped to the Mustang and Daisy gave Al y more directions. We hit a bar on Colfax, deep on Colfax, in a zone I’d never been to before.

We walked in and I noticed it had a reverse mix race majority, some white faces, predominately black.

Regardless of the fact that we weren’t the only white people there, we
were
the only white people there wearing skintight Lycra and enough hair spray to supply the Denver Broncos Cheerleaders for an entire season. This caused somewhat of a sensation and I felt that sensation lifting the hairs on the back of my neck.

Daisy charged through the bar like she owned the joint, went down a back hal and rapped on a closed door.

An enormous black woman, with an Afro even bigger than Daisy’s hair (needless to say, it was
huge
), opened the door, her face like a storm cloud. I sucked in breath and pul ed my purse closer, the better to reach my pepper spray. Then the cloud cleared and the woman’s face broke into a bright smile.

“Daisy-girl!” she said and came into the hal with us, closing the door and enveloping little Daisy in a big hug.

“Shirleen. How’s tricks?” Daisy asked when Shirleen let her go.

“Shit, they’re always shit. You know that,” Shirleen said, the smile never leaving her face which I thought was strange considering “tricks” were shit.

“Let me introduce my girls,” Daisy said and performed the introductions.

“Oowee! Looks like you al are paintin’ the town pink too-nite!” Shirleen declared and looked us al over with approving tawny brown eyes. I had the feeling Shirleen had Ada’s rose-tinted glasses on or she was prematurely blinding.

“Only way a town should be,” Al y said.

“You got
that
right, sister,” Shirleen noted and we al grinned.

Daisy got down to business.

“We’re lookin’ for Ray McAlister. He in there?”

“Ray? Haven’t seen Ray in a coupla days. He got trouble, you know what I mean?” Shirleen replied.

Daisy’s hair nodded, so did mine, Al y’s and Indy’s. We knew what she meant.

“This is his little girl,” She pointed at me.

“Shee-it!” Shirleen squealed and her eyes turned to me, wide, bright and happy, “Been wantin’ to meet you.

Everyone’s talkin’ ‘bout you. Heard you kneed Fratel i in the bal s at a bagel place. Wish I’da been there. You coulda sold tickets to that.”

“It was kind of a spur of the moment thing. He cal ed my boyfriend a wetback,” I explained.

Damn.

Now I was cal ing Eddie my boyfriend.

Shirleen’s grin faded and her eyes narrowed.

“Fuckin’ dick,” she said. “Fratel i’s not a big fan of the brothers either.” She turned to Daisy, “Marcus, now, he’s a good man, respects the brothers, ‘bout time he cut Fratel i loose.”

Daisy’s hair nodded again.

“You see Ray, you cal me, would you do that Shirleen?” Daisy asked.

“You got it.” She put her hand on the doorknob, “Gotta get back. Go to the bar, tel ‘em Shirleen said to set you up.”

“You’re a peach,” Daisy said.

Shirleen disappeared behind the door. We went to the bar and told the bartender Shirleen set us up. He didn’t quibble and used a heavy hand.

“What now?” Al y asked, sipping her Designated Driver Diet Coke.

“I know of another table, but ain’t no way they’d let me sit it and ain’t no way I’d try. Marcus would have a conniption,” Daisy replied.

This was not good news. This meant the night was a bust.

No Dad, no control of my life, no end to my nightmare.

Al dressed up and nothing to show for it.

Damn.

I glanced across the room and then froze solid when I saw Darius.

He saw me at the same time and did an eye-sweep taking in Indy and Al y. Then, without hesitation, his hand went to the back pocket of his homey-jeans and he pul ed out his cel .

“Shit!” I hissed, turning to the bar.

“What?” Indy asked.

“Darius is here, he saw us, he’s cal ing Eddie,” I looked at her, “Or Lee.”

Indy looked across the room, obviously saw Darius and then turned around.

“Shit!” she hissed.

“I’m gonna go say hi,” Al y said.

Indy grabbed her.

“Don’t say hi! We’re in Darius Domain. He doesn’t want some white woman in red knit with her ass hanging out walking up to him to say hi.”

“He’s Darius,” Al y returned as if that explained everything.

Something to know about Al y, apparently, she wasn’t scared of anything.

Daisy was looking across the bar, bold as brass, staring right at Darius.

“You girls know him?” she asked.

We nodded.

She turned to us, Serious Kick-Butt Daisy firmly in place.

“You don’t know him right now.”

Al y stared at her.

“Gotcha,” Indy said, pul ing Al y back to the bar.

Luckily, that was that.

We sucked down vodka. Mine and Indy’s cut with cranberry juice, Daisy’s cut with ice.

So much for the big, dangerous night out with the girls.

“Yo, bitch!”

We al turned to see who the bitch was.

To my surprise, the bitch appeared to be Indy.

A smal , round black woman with ringlets invaded Indy’s space.

“Remember me?”

Indy blinked at her.

“Um…” Indy mumbled.

The woman looked at me.

“She don’t remember me,” she said.

I stared.

Guess I was wrong about the big, dangerous night out with the girls.

She turned back to Indy.

“Few months ago, you stun-gunned me.”

Daisy, Al y and I looked at Indy. Indy’s face registered recognition.

“Uh-oh,” Al y said.

“Uh-oh is right, bee-atch,” the woman said, not taking her eyes off Indy.