“Vance –”
“Shut up, Jules.”
I decided to give up telling him not to tell me to shut up and desperately looked for a different topic that was safe for morning discussions. I needed to move on, process this later perhaps in the night-time hours with the moonlight coming in the window and Vance asleep while we were test-driving another Most Favorite Sleeping Position.
Finally I blurted, “You never answered me. Do you like The Beatles?”
He stared at me a beat then said, “What?”
“The Beatles. Do you like them?”
He totally had my number. I knew it when the intensity slid away, a slow grin spread on his face and he kissed me softly again. Thankfully, he let the moonlight conversation go and I knew this was because he knew I needed him to let it go… for now.
“Yeah,” he answered.
“Stevie Wonder?”
“Yeah,” he repeated.
I let out an exaggerated sigh. “Well, that’s a load off my mind.”
He shook his head again, eyes amused, then he switched the subject. “Today, I want you checkin’ in with me regularly and if you can’t get through to me then call the surveillance room. Yeah?”
I nodded. I could do that, that didn’t sound hard.
Vance carried on. “I’ll get a panic button from the office. I’ll give it to you at Fortnum’s.”
Um.
No.
I scrunched my nose. A head crackin’ mamma jamma with a panic button? I didn’t think so.
Vance’s relaxed grin faded. “I’m not arguing about this, Jules. You either take the panic button or you got a bodyguard whether you want one or not. Your choice. You’re protected one way or the other until we pick up Shard, Jermaine and Clarence and convince them to change their minds.”
Hmm.
Macho-speak.
My eyes narrowed.
“Chose, Jules.”
“Is there a door number three?” I asked.
“Yeah, they can pick you up, gang rape you repeatedly while alternately beatin’ the shit out of you until you wished you were dead. Then I’d have to hunt them down and kill them and, after that, I’d spend the rest of my life in prison. That’s door number three.”
Um.
Yikes.
“I choose the panic button,” I said immediately.
His body relaxed, he kissed my forehead again and said, “Wise choice.”
* * * * *
We were sitting in the Arby’s drive-through in May’s Grandma van, May at the wheel and me in the passenger seat. Clarice was in the backseat with Roam and Sniff. She was on the phone taking orders from Daisy who was at Fortnum’s where we were heading after Arby’s.
I had three months of birth control pills in my purse and I was supposed to start taking them after my next period, which I hoped and prayed would come right on schedule in two days. Things were going well with Vance and I, super well, beyond-quantum-powered well in the way that only these badass boys seemed to be able to pull off. Still, I didn’t want to be carrying around a mini-Vance just yet.
I’d told Roam and Sniff that Vance was picking them up after lunch. Roam was playing it cool. Sniff was jumping around the seat radiating excitement, unable to contain it.
I’d called and checked in three times, once when I got to the doctor’s; once when I got to work from the doctor’s; and then when I left the Shelter with May and the kids for lunch. Vance had answered his phone each time.
The last time I called, I said, “I’m kind of… um, over this checking in shit.”
He laughed. “Princess, it’s only been half a day.”
“You think you could round up Jermaine, Clarence and Shard quick-like? This is cutting into my whole head crackin’ mamma jamma vibe.”
“I thought you were going to learn how to knit.”
“Yeah, for now. Once you take care of the bad guys then Tex and I are back on the street.”
Silence.
Then, “Christ.”
“Vance.”
“Later, Princess.”
Disconnect.
Obviously Vance didn’t feel like bickering (or arguing) today either.
After picking up enough utterly delicious processed roast beef covered in orange cheese and even more orange special sauce to feed an army, we headed to Fortnum’s.
I knew something wasn’t right the minute we walked in. I knew this because both Zip and Heavy were there and neither of them were the kind of guys who hung out at a bookstore.
Indy was behind the espresso counter, Jet was walking up to me and Daisy was sitting on a couch. The skinny, tall lady was behind the book counter and there were about five customers sitting around on the seating area enjoying coffee.
I looked to Heavy and Zip and gave them a smile. “Hey. What are you guys –” I started to say but Heavy stormed right up to me.
My Arby’s bags were confiscated by Heavy who shoved them in a surprised Jet’s hands. Then Zip, Duke and Tex descended and I was hustled, bouncing off one man into another then another then another until I was down the aisle of the book section and shoved right into one of the rows.
“What’s going on?” I asked when they’d stopped me, my back to the books. They had surrounded me, all wearing identical father-about-to-speak-to-recalcitrant-daughter expressions (except Tex, who looked like he wanted to rip someone’s head off and I just hoped it wasn’t mine).
“You’re off duty,” Zip said.
“No more night patrol. Done,” Tex shocked me by booming.
“Everywhere you go, one of us goes with,” Heavy announced.
“If you ain’t in Fortnum’s, at the Shelter or home, you got an escort,” Duke declared.
I looked around the pack of them. “I take it you heard about Shard, Jermaine and Clarence,” I guessed.
“Sure thing, Sugar,” Daisy had arrived. She burrowed into the beefcake to stand in front of Tex. “My husband gave me the scoop last night and I told your boys. Rumor on the street is you’re a marked woman. Whatever they have planned, we’re gonna make sure it ain’t gonna happen, comprende?”
Shit, now even Marcus Sloan was looking after me.
I didn’t know what to do with that and didn’t have a chance to process it.
“No discussion,” Zip broke into my thoughts, “no, ‘Zip’ is gonna talk you out of this one,” Zip imitated my word-is-law voice when he said his own name and it was hard not to laugh.
The good thing about this was Tex wasn’t going to be pissed that we weren’t going out that night. The bad news was I didn’t much like people telling me what to do. I’d already decided to lay low until the coast was clear, I didn’t need the Grumpy Middle-Aged Men Posse and Daisy telling me what to do.