Getting desperate, I twisted back around and tried to get Vance’s attention but, for some reason, he turned and pushed in the other direction, away from the Rock Chicks.
Ef it, there was nothing for it.
My eyes glued on the guy, I went to the mic and tried to offer a warning by saying “Jet…” but just as I uttered her name, I watched in horror as a pocket of people opened behind Jet.
The guy had easy access.
Effing, holy, hel !
He made it to Jet in a couple of steps, his hand started to come out of his pocket and it was then I freaked.
“Jet! ” I screamed into the mic.
Her eyes were already on me but there was no time to warn her, the man was right behind her.
I whipped the guitar off, dropped it to the stage with a loud crash of the strings, ran to the edge and executed a stage dive, jumping off and aiming my body at the bad guy.
I vaguely heard the crowd give a shout of approval at my stage dive just as I hit the guy, ful body.
“What the –?” he shouted, caught unaware, with one hand out, one hand stil in his jacket. His free arm went around me, he staggered when my weight hit him, one two, three steps and then we both went down, him on his back, me on top.
Unfortunately, we careened into others and they went down with us.
It was al arms and legs and bodies and what seemed like a mil ion feet, most of them kicking, as we rol ed into others and took them al down.
I stayed focused and struggled with the guy, trying to get a firm hold on his wrists. He was strong and he was wiry and, even though not exactly young, he stil was a guy, so I found this a difficult task.
I heard Floyd’s voice asking for calm but I ignored it, too busy grunting and wrestling with the bad guy.
“Jesus, girl, what the f**k’s the matter with you?” he asked, on the defense, wrestling back and also grunting.
For some reason, I shouted, “You’re wearing a jacket!”
“So?” he shouted back.
“Jackets… are… not… allowed! ” I yel ed right before an arm sliced around my waist and lifted me clean off him.
I struggled, twisting around to see Vance had hold of me.
He set me on my feet in front of his body but he kept me close with the arm around my waist.
Since he was a member of the Hot Bunch, I quit struggling, pointed at the guy stil on the floor and shouted,
“Get him! ”
Vance’s eyebrows went up and he asked, “Get who?”
“The guy with the jacket,” I yel ed.
Vance’s gaze shifted to the guy on the floor and mine went with it. I saw Luke was now there, hand extended to the guy, he pul ed him to his feet.
“You okay, Ray?” Luke asked and my body froze.
“She’s f**kin’ loco,” “Ray” answered, brushing off his jeans and straightening his jacket, his eyes on me.
I stared, noting distractedly the Rock Chicks had arrived and with them a goodly number of the crowd al were and with them a goodly number of the crowd al were pressing in and watching.
“You know him?” I asked Luke.
“He’s my Dad,” Jet answered.
Oh dear.
“Oh,” I mumbled, feeling stupid.
“You okay, Dad?” Jet asked, moving toward him.
“Yeah, but it’s a miracle,” he replied to Jet and then glared at me. “What’s the matter with you? You jumped on me! From the stage!”
I felt the need to defend myself. “You’re wearing a jacket!”
“What’s the f**kin’ deal with the jacket?” Ray snapped at Luke who had his eyes on Vance behind me and his mouth cocked in a sexy half-grin.
Then Luke’s eyes dropped to mine. “Since Ray’s not likely to murder his own daughter, or any of her friends, we figured it was okay to let him in with his jacket.”
“Oh,” I repeated and looked at Ray. “Um, sorry about that,” I muttered.
“You’re loco,” Ray told me, I bit my lip and sliced an apologetic look to Jet who, thankful y, appeared to be fighting a grin.
“Can’t be too safe,” Vance said from behind me but I could swear he sounded like he was trying not to laugh.
I twisted in his arm and watched his mouth twitch.
Shitsofuckit!
My eyes caught on Shirleen and Daisy, who were sandwiching Dixon Jones, al of them on the edge of the crowd, al of them looking at me. Shirleen and Daisy were smiling. Dixon Jones again looked confused.
My effing stupid shitty luck!
“I’m not usual y like this,” I told Dixon.
Dixon’s body lurched like he was in a trance and my words snapped him out of it.
I noticed the band pushing in close, Vance’s arm dropped from around my waist and I took a step away.
“Holy shit, Stel a Bel a. We’re cal ing you Ramba from now on! You the wo-man!” Pong yel ed.
“Guess we don’t need Mace as muscle anymore,” Leo noted. “We got Stel a.”
“Next time, pick a girl to jump on,” Hugo advised.
I rol ed my eyes to the ceiling.
“One thing you can say, Stel a Gunn,” Dixon remarked, now his mouth was twitching. “You’re pure, f**kin’ rock ‘n’
rol .”
I didn’t know if that was good, or bad.
Since pure rock ‘n’ rol , to me, was a positive thing, I decided to take that as good.
I tossed my hair and smiled at him.
His eyes shifted to my hair and watched it move then they came back to mine and he lost the fight with his smile and it went wide.
“Show’s over,” Mace, al of a sudden there, announced.
“Fuckin’ A but what a show!” Tex boomed, also al of a sudden there. He got close to me and dropped a huge hand to top of my head. “Girl, you are the shit! You can burn through Mol y Hatchett and take care of business. Fuckin’
A!” he repeated, taking his hand from my head then, not done, boomed, “God damn! ” Then, obviously in the throes of a Rock Moment, he turned to the crowd and shouted,
“Do we love The Gypsies?”
The crowd, mostly watching in bewilderment (I’d never done a stage dive to end a show so they were uncertain at the state of affairs), gave a feeble cheer.
“Fuck that!” Tex roared, throwing his arm up to punch the air. “Do we love The Gypsies? ”
Catching on, the crowd cheered back, stronger now.
There was some scattered applause that started to grow then grow some more, a few shouted “Yippee kay yay” and then the chants of “Gypsies” began.