“Stel a –” Jet said.

“Time to go,” Indy was staring pointedly at Jet.

Jet stared back.

Indy jerked her head once toward the door.

Jet jerked hers back but this looked like it was to communicate a negative.

I got the feeling they were having a conversation without words but I didn’t want to know what they were saying.

What I wanted to know was what Mace was thinking.

Shitsofuckit!

He was screwing with my head without even trying to screw with my head.

Or maybe I was screwing with my own head.

Juno shoved her nose in my bel y, a hard to miss doggie cry for breakfast.

“Okay, baby, breakfast,” I told her, giving her a behind the ears scratch.

Her tongue lol ed out happily.

On that, Al y gave me an arm squeeze. “Later Stel a.”

“See you at the gig,” Ava cal ed on a wave.

“We didn’t get any coffee,” Annette noted then, at a look from Roxie, she gave up on coffee, smiled at me and gave me a peace sign.

“We’l talk later,” Jet promised on her own wave.

“Knock ‘em dead,” Jules said.

“Don’t forget the meeting,” Shirleen warned.

“Bring the band,” Daisy reminded me.

“Hang in there,” Roxie cal ed before blowing me a kiss.

Only Indy got close and gave me a hug.

“You’l be al right and he’l be al right. I promise. No bul shit. Everything wil be al right,” she whispered in my ear then pul ed away and looked in my eyes. “Yeah?” she finished softly.

“Yeah,” I replied, even though I didn’t believe her, I wanted to.

She touched her cheek to mine and whispered, “Later, girl.”

Then al the Rock Chicks were gone.

I made my dog breakfast and poured myself a coffee but al the while I did it, my head was in the shower.

Therefore, when Mace got out of the shower, I was standing in the kitchen, a half-drunk cup of coffee in my hand, Juno’s heavy body lying on my feet and my eyes were on the door.

I watched as he moved toward his bags, pul ed out some fresh clothes and then yanked off the towel. I held my breath at the sight of him but I didn’t get a very long look. He dressed in record time and walked back to the bathroom.

I stayed where I was, a feeling of dread stealing over me.

Something was not right and it was more than its usual under-threat-of-being-murdered not right.

Mace came back out, tossed his boots by the platform, shoved his clothes in his bag, pul ed out a pair of socks and then zipped the bag closed.

Oh yes.

Something was not right.

That feeling of dread grew.

He sat on the platform again to put on his socks and boots.

“Mace –” I started, what I was going to say, I didn’t know but I didn’t get the chance.

“The boys’l cover you today,” he told me, not looking up from what he was doing.

“Mace –”

“I’l have my shit outta here by the time you get back.” I felt my mouth fil with saliva, that feeling of dread building and spreading so fast I was paralyzed.

I fought the paralysis and whispered, “Mace –” yet again.

“I’l cal Turner and tel him he’s up.”

My hand not holding the coffee cup came down and gripped the counter.

“Eric?” I asked.

Mace stood and looked at me. “You know another Turner?”

I shook my head even though I probably did. I knew a lot of people.

Mace put his tongue to his teeth and gave a sharp whistle.

Juno shot up, trotted to him and Mace bent over and gave her a ful doggie rubdown.

A final, farewell ful doggie rubdown.

This isn’t right, my brain sounded panicked and confused.

“Mace –” I started again.

Mace stopped rubbing Juno down and headed toward his bag.

“Stay wel , Stel a,” he said, not looking at me, bending to his bag and lifting up, throwing the strap over his shoulder and turning to the door.

Oh my God, this isn’t right! My brain screamed.

I had to do something. Anything. And I had to do it quick.

“I broke my arm when I was twelve. Fel off my bike,” I blurted.

Mace stopped on his way to the door. His side to me, he only turned his head when he looked at me.

I swal owed. “When I got home, my Mom was gone, I don’t know where. My Dad was the only one there.” Mace didn’t move and didn’t speak.

My breath wasn’t taking a hike, it was coming fast and scared. Al thoughts of wanting Mace out of my life were gone.

Poof.

Vanished.

“Dad didn’t –” I began but Mace interrupted me by shaking his head.

“Too late,” he told me and my stomach clenched.

“Let me finish,” I whispered, Mace shook his head but I kept talking. “My arm was hanging funny, it hurt so much I thought I’d pass out from the pain. You’d think that’s al I thought I’d pass out from the pain. You’d think that’s al I would remember –”

“Too late,” Mace said again.

“But it wasn’t what I remembered.” I pressed on. “He was so pissed. Dad was. He was watching some golf tournament on TV and he was pissed at me because he had to take me to the hospital instead of –” Mace interrupted me again. His body turned toward me and his voice was back to low and vibrating in that scary way. “Too f**kin’ late.”

“Don’t go,” I whispered, changing tactics, my head coming together, my thoughts, for the first time in days, final y clear and focused.

I knew what I was doing, letting him have sex with me, sleep with me, move in with me. I knew I was doing it because I wanted it, I wanted him. Actions speak louder than words but I’d so wrapped myself in that cotton wool Floyd told me about, I didn’t hear the muffled communication.

I held my breath.

Mace stared at me.

I stared back.

“Please, don’t go,” I said again.

Part of me expected him to grin in triumph, come forward, pul me in his arms and kiss me.

I decided I’d have to act pissed off for awhile and then, once I gave him a load of shit, I’d let it go.

Instead, his mouth got tight, he turned on his boot, and he muttered, “For f**k’s sake, arm the alarm.” Then he was gone.