“Excuse me… boys?” I cut in.
Vance looked at Luke. “What about you?” he asked.
“I’m in,” Luke replied.
“Helloooooo?” I called.
“You want to call Lee, make it official?” Mace asked.
I gave up, crossed my arms on my chest and tapped my toe.
“Yeah,” Luke answered on a short laugh. “He’s at dinner with Indy, Roxie, Hank, Ally, Tex and his parents. Welcome to Denver for Roxie. He’s probably ready to murder someone about now. He’d kill to get a high priority call.”
The guys looked at each other with amused faces.
“Um, pardon me but it is after midnight. I doubt they’re still at dinner,” I informed them.
They all looked at me.
“Shit,” Mace muttered.
“Probably shouldn’t call him then,” Luke half-grinned.
These guys.
“Does someone want to tell me what you’re talking about?” I asked.
“We’ll leave that to Crowe. Later,” Luke said then he de-materialized, poof, gone.
Same with Mace.
I didn’t ask how these boys seemed to appear and disappear without apparently moving. I had more important things on my mind.
“What’s that mean, speaking for me and protection?” I asked, turning fully to Vance.
“Jermaine and Clarence work for the same guy. Not good to have your boys in a showdown with a white woman in an alley and they get bested. Normally, Princess, you could expect retribution. Someone’s gotta talk to him to convince him not to send someone to put a bullet in your brain. That someone is me.”
I didn’t say anything partially because I didn’t want to think about a bullet in my brain and partially because he called me “Princess”.
“At the same time I make this rumor of you and me bein’ partners true. I give you my protection and they’ll take that into consideration before they, or anyone, thinks to move on you. It’ll mean a f**k of a lot more with Mace and Luke in. It’ll mean even more if Lee throws down.”
I knew he was saying serious stuff but the only thing I could think to say was, “Princess?”
He got close, his hands went to my h*ps and pulled them to his and he looked down at me. “You understand what I just said to you?” he asked softly.
I nodded but said, “Princess?”
He grinned and got closer, his shadowed face blocking out the small amount of light.
His voice still soft, he said, “You sleep in that big bed, wearin’ soft, lacy nightgowns, all those fancy sheets and pillows and fancy furniture in the living room. You live like a f**kin’ princess.”
“I’m not a princess,” I whispered.
“You are to me.”
Oh my God.
I didn’t say anything, couldn’t say anything. I just stood there and stared at his shadowed face.