Rock Chick Reckoning
Page 53

“Even so –” I continued to try to convince Monk of the seriousness of the situation which kind of pissed me off, considering there should be no convincing to do.
“Stel a, you’re playin’,” Monk broke in.
“Monk, you can’t think –”
“I can and I do. You don’t play tonight you never play the Pal adium again,” Monk threatened.
My body got tight.
“Monk!”
“Not only that, Stel a, you don’t play tonight, I start talkin’
to the other club owners. Talkin’ about shit like wandin’, searches and that f**kin’ Mace guy gettin’ in my face and puttin’ his hands on me.”
Effing hel .
“Monk, listen to me, we can’t play tonight. It’s too dangerous.”
“No, Stel a, you listen to me. You play tonight or you don’t play in Denver. Anywhere in Denver. Ever again.”
“Are you threatening me?” I snapped.
“It’s not a threat. Trust me.”
My luck sucked!
Before I could retort, the phone was ripped from my hand and I watched Hugo put it to his ear.
“Monk, you got Hugo,” he said into the phone, his deep, velvet voice an angry purr. “Yeah,” he went on. “No, you listen to me you circus freak cracker. We play tonight, you double the cover and we get the take.” I stared in shock at Hugo’s words as Hugo paused for a few beats then kept talking. “Quiet, you’re listenin’ to me now, motherfucker.” The angry purr got angrier and I held my breath. “You open the doors an hour early to get folks in. You fol ow the security protocol to the letter. The… fuckin’… letter. You understand?” Hugo paused again, nodded his head once then went on, “We play thirty minute sets, not forty-five. You put signs up that say no bags, purses or backpacks al owed.” I heard yel ing come from the phone but Hugo forged ahead. “No one wearin’ bulky clothes either, no jackets, no sweatshirts, nothin’. The minute you hit code maximum, you close the doors. No one gets in unless someone goes out. We clear, motherfucker?” There was more yel ing coming from the phone and I glanced around at the band. Leo was in the kitchen, three empty coffee cups dangling forgotten from his fingers.
Floyd had angry eyes narrowed on the phone. Pong was grinning. Buzz was biting his lip.
I looked back at Hugo when he started speaking again.
“You try to f**k The Gypsies, we got problems. You don’t want problems with me, motherfucker. I know you like toot, I know who you get your toot from and I know you’re tappin’
his piece. He’s a serious guy and he don’t like sharin’,
‘special y with a circus freak cracker. You want him to stay in the dark and you to stay supplied with blow, not to mention your piece of ass, you keep your f**kin’ mouth shut. Now, are we clear?”
Silence from Hugo and the phone.
Then Hugo said, “Damn straight, motherfucker,” he beeped off the phone and tossed it to me. “We’re good,” he told me calmly.
I blinked.
“We’re… good?” I asked hesitantly.
“Monk’s on board,” Hugo replied.
I threw out my arms. “Hugo, are you nuts? We can’t play tonight! We can’t play until this shit is over.”
“Be cool, mama, we’l be al right,” Hugo responded.
I stared at him, mouth open.
Everyone was nuts. Everyone, that was, but me.
“You’re nuts,” I told Hugo.
“Anyone want eggs? I’m cooking,” Leo cal ed from the kitchen.
“I’d kil for some eggs. You got bacon?” Pong asked me, entirely unaffected by al the scariness happening around him.
“You’re nuts too,” I said to Pong who just grinned at me and pushed off the bed.
“Toast. I need toast. With grape jel y. And loads of butter,” Buzz said, exiting the bed as wel .
“There’s bread. There’s bacon too,” Leo announced, head in the fridge.
I looked at Floyd.
Floyd didn’t look happy.
Final y, one sane person!
He stared at me and shook his head.
I waited for him to intervene, to bring sanity into our crazy world.
Then he shrugged.
“Is the coffee done?” Floyd asked as he got up and walked to the kitchen too.
Shitsofuckit!
I flopped back on the bed.
Beautiful.
This was just beautiful.
“You better cal Mace, get him to set up the security detail,” Hugo said from his place leaning against the kitchen ledge.
Even more beautiful.
Mace was going to have a shit fit.
And here I was, pul ing him in to help me and my band.
Again!
“Stel a Bel a, you want eggs?” Leo asked.
I looked at Juno.
She blinked at me then panted a bit. I watched as she gave up the fight against consciousness, rol ed to her side and groaned as she stretched out, preparing for her doggie nap.
Eyes stil on Juno, I answered, “Yeah, I want eggs.” Chapter Twelve
Set List
Stella
“Denver, let me hear you make some noise!” I shouted into the mic, stil playing my guitar, the music roaring from the amplifiers.
At my demand, the crowd went nuts.
I looked to Buzz and smiled. He smiled back while jacking his head up and down. My gaze moved beyond Buzz to see Floyd’s head swinging back and forth, his shoulders bunched up, his fingers crashing on the piano keys. I stepped back and looked behind me to see Pong’s hair was flying out wild as he shook his head and banged the drums. My gaze moved to Leo who had his head bent, staring at the stage but his feet were hopping up and down to the beat.
Hugo was playing the keyboards, something he rarely did. He said this was because it gave him bad flashbacks of the organ lessons he’d taken at church, lessons forced on him by his bal -buster of a grandmother.
I felt badly about giving Hugo flashbacks of his bal -
buster grandmother because I’d met her and she wa s a bal -buster.
But we needed the keyboards.
We were ending our third set on our fourth encore of Bob Seger and The Silver Bul et Band’s “Get Out of Denver”.
Keyboards were paramount. You didn’t do “Get Out of Denver” without keyboards.
Hugo had had to suck it up.
He hated it but he did it for the band.
I executed the finishing riff with the drums, keyboards and piano crashing al around me. Then, as the keyboards and drums kept the excitement going, I put my arm up in the air, finger pointed to the ceiling, bounced my head and shoulders with my finger slashing the air, one, two, three, four and then we al jumped high one last time as I brought my arm down in a wide swipe and the music stopped.