Chapter Fourteen
“She’s the One”
I was lying on top of the covers of Hank’s bed, wearing my dusty lilac, stretchy nightie with the black lace on the bodice and hem. It was a little risqué for hanging out in Hank,
the-guy-who-I-was-tel ing-myself-I-was-trying-to-shake’s bedroom but f**k it, these days risqué was my middle name.
Shamus was lying on his bel y beside me. His head on my stomach, his eyes closed, content as I scratched his ears. “Born to Run” was playing on the stereo in Hank’s bedroom and I’d just finished writing a letter to a friend in Atlanta (but did not share any of the recent goings-on; that would have to be a phone cal ).
I had put my stationery aside and I was staring at the ceiling and trying to decide how my life had descended into such madness (and obviously avoiding blaming myself in an attempt to save what was left of my sanity). It was like someone in a suit walked up to me and gave me a certificate, which stated “Roxanne Gisel e Logan, Your Life is Fucked”.
* * * * *
I’d spent the afternoon at the police station. First, they took everyone’s statement, then, Daisy and I identified the two bad guys in a line up. It gave me a chil up my spine to see Sink Man again; so close he seemed right there.
Luckily, Hank was right there too, standing behind me, his strong hand warm on the back of my neck.
After that, we went back to the big room with the desks and phones and people. Hank didn’t come with us but everyone was stil there. Vance and Mace had arrived and both were looking grim. Or, at least, Mace looked grim, Vance looked pissed off.
They were talking to Lee but before they peeled off, Vance approached me, stared me in the eyes, his burning so deeply I felt the heat on my face.
“Don’t worry,” he said low.
Then, he and Mace took off.
Yowza.
I wasn’t certain what he meant. Al I knew was that whatever it was, he seriously meant it.
Then, everyone else took off. I tried to fol ow but Lee caught my arm and held me back. “You stay here, wait for Hank,” he ordered.
Eddie stood beside him, Jet and Indy stood beside their respective men. I looked at them.
“I need to –” I started.
“You need to wait for Hank,” Lee said and his tone brooked no argument.
I felt the need to argue, even though Lee scared me a bit.
“You don’t understand. Uncle Tex –” I told him.
“We’l talk to Tex,” Eddie cut in.
I felt another presence behind my back so I turned and there stood Malcolm, Hank and Lee’s dad; a handsome, older version of them both. I’d met him briefly at Indy and Lee’s party a week ago.
“Come on, Roxie. Let’s get you a cup of coffee,” Malcolm said.
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit.
Coffee with Hank’s dad after I’d been chased through the streets of Denver and shot at.
Shit.
I gave Lee and Indy, Eddie and Jet one last glance and a smal smile. Then I nodded to Malcolm and went with him.
He got me coffee (or what could loosely be described as coffee, I’d never again take coffee for granted after having one of Uncle Tex’s orgasmic creations) and we went back to the big room, its activity beginning to fade. He sat with me on the couch.