Kristen Ashley - Rock Chick

In his ear, really quietly, I whispered, “I’m not going anywhere. I’m right where I’ve always wanted to be.”

His mouth moved to mine and he said, “It’s about fucking time.”

Ally, Willie and I were sitting outside Liks Ice Cream Parlour. It was approximately three hundred degrees in the shade but we were still sitting out on the patio because what else do you do when you’re at Liks? Even in December, you at least considered the patio when you went to Liks.

After Lee and my love-in, Willie had come over because he’d pulled Indy Watch for the day.

Lee went to work, Willie and I went to Fortnum’s, and, in the afternoon, Ally and I took Willie to the mall.

We were treating him to a waffle cone because he’d managed to survive an Indy and Ally Do Cherry Creek Shopping Center Experience complete with full-on explorations of Levi’s, Lucky and Diesel and fly-bys through Guess and Urban Outfitters.

After I’d asked Willie how he felt about the tenth pair of Lucky jeans I tried on, he told me he was going to hunt down and murder Terry Wilcox his own damned self.

Hmm.

(I didn’t buy the jeans.)

I was feeling weird because I wasn’t feeling weird about admitting to Lee that I loved him and I thought I should be feeling weird.

Question, what did you do when you got exactly what you always wanted?

Answer, you went shopping with your best friend, then got ice cream.

I was barely keeping up with my melting double dip of dark chocolate with dark chocolate chunks when I heard, “Cool! It’s the Rock Chicks.”

I looked up and stared in total shock at The Kevster and Rosie who were heading our way, both carrying their own double dip waffle cones (you didn’t do a single dip at Liks, it was the law) and looking like they didn’t have a care in the world.

At their approach, Willie stood, handing his cone to Ally.

The Kevster reared back at Willie’s defensive posture and put up a hand, index and middle finger extended.

“Dude. We come in peace.”

“It’s okay, we know them,” I told Willie.

Willie relaxed, slightly.

“I thought you two were in jail,” I said to The Kevster and Rosie, coming to my feet.

“Made bond,” Rosie replied, an “O” of ice cream coating his lips (if I had to guess, by the looks of it, rocky road).

“Who paid your bond?” Ally asked, also on her feet.

“Our fairy godmother?” The Kevster responded and it was a question.

I looked at Ally, then back at The Kevster. “You don’t know who paid your bond?”

“Should we?” The Kevster looked confused, or, more confused than usual.

I wasn’t getting a good feeling about this.

“Is that even possible?” Ally was talking to Willie.

“Did you read the papers?” Willie didn’t respond to Ally, he was looking at the two grunge muffins and their ice cream cones and he didn’t seem happy.

“Papers?” This was clearly more than The Kevster could process.

Before we could continue this useless conversation, a black BMW with shaded windows came to a screeching halt on 13^th Avenue. It didn’t park, it stopped in one of the three through lanes.

“Oh shit,” Ally said, eyes on the BMW.

“Get to the car,” Willie ordered, all relaxation gone.

Before we could make a move, Goon Gary and The Moron were headed our way.

“Get to the car,” Willie repeated.

For some reason, everyone stood stock-still.

“Dudes,” The Kevster greeted Goon Gary and The Moron as they approached, obviously not knowing who they were and also not feeling the tense vibe electrifying the air.

Rosie had gone pale and his ice cream cone was melting down his hand.

Goon Gary and The Moron ignored us, their eyes on Willie.

Willie pushed me behind him.

“You know who I am?” Willie asked Gary and The Moron.

The Moron nodded slowly, Gary didn’t respond.

“Then you’ll walk away,” Willie continued.

“Mr. Wilcox wants to talk to you,” Gary said, he was still looking at Willie but talking to Rosie. Not me. Rosie. Gary was on a mission, a mission important enough to ignore a police officer’s order.

Not good.

“Hey, I know you! You came looking for…” The Kevster’s four working brain cells finally fired and he recognized the boys. Then, he shouted, “Fuck!”

He threw his ice cream cone at Goon Gary, it splatted in his face and The Kevster took off running.

“What the –” Gary started to say, stunned immobile, what looked like Liks famous strawberry cheesecake ice cream dripping off his cheek and chin.

Splat!

Rosie threw his ice cream cone too, it hit Gary on the side of the head. Then he took off after The Kevster.

Splat!

Ally threw one of her cones at The Moron and it hit him in the chest. At this, Willie grabbed me and started to pull me away.

Splat!

Ally threw Willie’s cone, it hit Goon Gary in the shoulder.

Not to be outdone (even though it was a sacrifice, dark chocolate with dark chocolate chunks was the best), on the trot and being pulled by Willie, I aimed my cone at The Moron and, as he’d turned and started after us, it nailed him in the belly.

We all jumped into Willie’s Nissan Pathfinder. Goon Gary and The Moron gave up on us and headed to the BMW. Willie started up before we had our belts on, took off and we rocketed from the curb. Ally hadn’t yet seated herself and she was tumbling around the backseat in a crinkle of bags that were our take from the Lucky and Levi’s stores.

I saw Rosie and The Kevster, on foot, flying down the sidewalk.

“Stop!” I shouted to Willie. “Pick them up.”

“Fuck no,” Willie responded.

“Stop!” I screeched, my voice shrill, looking back at the BMW on our tail. “We can’t let Wilcox have them!”

About a quarter of a block passed the running grunge gods, Willie stood on the brakes and we all flew forward, the BMW swerved to avoid us and shot by.

Proof positive that men would do anything to stop a woman from yelling.

Ally threw open her door, leaned out and shouted, “Get in!”

Rosie and The Kevster jumped into the SUV, there was more crinkling of shopping bags, then Willie took off.

Everyone was silent. All you could hear was Rosie and The Kevster’s heavy breathing.

Willie broke the silence.

“Lee owes me big time for this.”

I didn’t know if he was talking about the mall or the grunge invasion of his Pathfinder.

Likely both.

If I had known I was going to go to Lee’s offices that day, I would have chosen my outfit more carefully.

Dawn was again wearing designer.

I was wearing my cutoff jeans shorts, an Air Force blue t-shirt with “USAFA” in white on the front (even though the man I loved was honorably discharged from the Army, I was an equal opportunity military supporter) and blue flip flops. After three orgasms and a fight with Lee that ended up with me admitting I loved him, I was spent. Creating an Indy Outfit was beyond my capabilities. I hadn’t even bothered with a belt.

Willie, Ally, Rosie, The Kevster and I invaded Dawn’s pristine reception space and she looked at us in horror. Rosie still had the ice cream “O” around his mouth and remnants of the drip on his hand, too rocked by recent events to attend the basics. At the best of times, Rosie and The Kevster weren’t overly bothered with personal hygiene and these were far from the best of times.

“What now?” Dawn asked.

At Dawn’s greeting, I wondered, briefly, if Lee knew what the word “cordial” meant.

“We need to talk to Lee,” Willie said to Dawn.

She looked at Willie and her face changed. Willie was hot and Dawn was in heat, so she tucked away the attitude and gave him a brilliant smile.

“I’m sorry. He’s in a meeting.”

“Tell him we’re here,” Willie went on.

“I’m sorry, but when he’s in a meeting, Lee says –”

“Tell him… we’re… here,” Willie repeated in a tone that made Dawn’s eyes go wide. She put her hands to the arms of her chair (manicured fingers pointed straight out, the better to be on display), pushed herself up, rounded the desk and disappeared behind the door to the Inner Sanctuary.

“I’ve never been here,” Ally whispered to me.

“Really?” I whispered back, not knowing why we were whispering.

“This place is the shit,” Ally said.

She was right, it was. I felt a strange sense of pride, even though it had nothing to do with me.

I smiled at Ally. She smiled back.

“Are we, like, in trouble?” The Kevster asked, breaking into our moment.

Ally trained her eyes on Kevin. “You’re, like, morons.”

“Dudette!” The Kevster was aghast at Ally’s insult.

“You better clue in before someone helps you check out,” Ally told him. “People are getting shot at, stun-gunned, kidnapped and cars are exploding. Wake, the fuck, up.”

Well, there it was. Couldn’t get any more honest than that.

Rosie and The Kevster stared at Ally, whether what she said penetrated was anyone’s guess.

While all this was going on, Willie was making a call and after Ally’s announcement, he flipped his phone shut.

“Got someone checking,” Willie said, “odds are Wilcox bonded these two idiots.”

“Why would he do that?” Rosie asked.

“I don’t know, maybe because it’s easier to blow your brains out when you aren’t under twenty-four hour police surveillance,” Ally replied.