Rock Chick Revolution

by Ashley, Kristen

  “We all felt that way the first time,” she informed me. “And we all got over it. You’ll be fine.”

  Right.

  We headed out and Lottie led me backstage. Through a small part in the curtain I could see the dancers gyrating and I felt bile slide up my throat.

  Lottie got close. “Breathe deep,” she advised.

  I breathed deep.

  The bile went away. The nerves didn’t.

  “Two minutes, fifteen seconds, and it’s over,” she told me.

  That was right. Two minutes, fifteen seconds then I was off the stage.

  Though, my second song was longer.

  Shit!

  The place went dark and I felt the girls run by us, coming off stage.

  Shit, shit, fuck!

  That was when I heard Smithie’s voice coming loud, saying into a microphone, “You’re all in for a fuckin’ treat tonight! We’re debuting a new act. So put your eyes to the stage, put your hands together and welcome the Rock Chick!”

  More darkness.

  Lottie gave me a shove through the curtain and I walked through the dark, passing Smithie who muttered, “Fuck,” into the microphone as he tripped over the cord on the way out.

  By rote, I went to my mark, in my head saying over and over again, two minutes, fifteen seconds, two minutes, fifteen seconds.

  Then out loud, I whispered, “You can do this Ally.”

  But I knew it didn’t matter. I could pep talk myself for another year.

  I wasn’t going to be able to do it.

  That’s when the guitars blared, the scratchy-fast “Yea,” hit, the lights came up, blinding me, and it happened.

  It was like someone flipped a switch.

  And the switch they flipped was rock ‘n’ roll.

  Specifically, ZZ Top’s “Tush.”

  I just started to move, everything Lottie and Daisy taught me flowing through my veins.

  And then some.

  I strutted. I squatted. I wiggled. I crouched low with one leg straight out to my side, slapped the stage and tossed my hair back as I pushed my breasts forward. I slithered. I undulated. I swung my black leather, short-shorts covered ass out and I did it wide.

  Then I tore off the black tee that was cut off under my breasts and was held together at my shoulders by safety pins and tossed it aside, exposing a black bra with black and silver sequins.

  Right after that, I ran on my black leather studded stripper platforms toward a pole, launched myself high, caught it, swung around, legs parted, and I felt a hush roll over the crowd.

  I curled in, flipping my legs up high, well over my head and torso, straddling the pole, legs still wide, sliding down until I got near the bottom.

  Once there, I put one hand down, then the other, swung out one leg, then the other until I was in a backbend. I pushed up off my hands to come to standing.

  Immediately, I went into a squat, came up, swung my ass again while my fingers undid the heavy silver buckle of my studded black belt and I slid my shorts over my ass, hips, down my legs. I kicked them free and I was in black and silver sequined leather undies cut high in the back so they showed some cheek.

  It was then I felt—actually felt—the crowd come to their feet.

  In my platforms and sequined undies, I ran from pole to pole. Catching one, flipping over, wrapping my legs around it, letting go with my hands and arching my neck and back as I slid down, using only my legs until my hands hit stage.

  A modified cartwheel then a run and grasp of the next pole, twisting around and around it at a dizzying pace, one leg curled around the pole, one leg held straight out.

  Back to the next one where I caught it high and swung all the way out from my hands, toes pointed, legs spread wide and ended it curling in and doing a flip off the pole to land on my feet, ass near to the ground, knees bent high, legs spread and I slapped the stage with my hand between my legs.

  I pulled out of that deep squat and strutted back up the stage with super-long strides, one foot in front of the other like the most kickass model in the history of models after she bitch-slapped all the other models before she hit the runway.

  Too soon, way too soon, I heard the song winding down and right when the final guitar riff hit, I reached behind my back with one hand as I reached up my front with the other. I flicked the clasp at my back and yanked the bra away just as the guitars faded.

  The lights went dark.

  I ran offstage and Lottie was there to throw my robe around my shoulders. I shoved my arms through and pulled it closed.

  That was when I heard it.

  Nothing.

  Silence.

  Shit.

  What the fuck?

  On that thought, it happened.

  A wave of sound so strong, no fucking joke, it nearly knocked both of us over.

  The kind of sound I’d only heard at a rock concert.

  Clapping, shouting, hooting, hollering, catcalling, feet stamping, hands slapping tables and finally a chant of, “Rock Chick! Rock Chick! Rock Chick!”

  My wide eyes went to a smiling-huge Lottie just as she framed my face with both her hands, got close, and whispered, “Welcome to the sisterhood, baby.”

  She touched her lips to mine just as we heard Smithie shout over the wild-ass, out-of-control ovation, “Knew you motherfuckers would like that! Now, get a load of Lottie Mac!”

  Lottie dashed onto the stage.

  Smithie came off.

  And before I knew it, I was in his arms, held there tight.

  “Knew that was hard. It’s always hard. But you did that for me and my girls. And you did me proud. Thank you, darlin’,” he whispered in my ear.

  Before I could even blink, definitely before I could begin to process his heartfelt words, he was gone.

  I watched the place where he disappeared for two beats before I walked into the hall and down it to the dancers-only bathroom. Buzzing so big I felt like I was vibrating, adrenaline sluicing through my system, I entered and thankfully found it empty.

  I walked to the sink and stared at my face in the mirror made up in full-on slut, my hair curled and teased out to there.

  I did this for a long time.

  Then I whispered, “Fuck yeah. I’m a goddamned, fuckin’ rock chick.”

  I just caught my own huge-ass smile before I turned from the mirror and sashayed out of the bathroom in order to keep doing my job.

  * * * * *

  Being quiet because it was dark, late and I saw by the moonlight lighting the room that he was asleep in bed, I entered Ren’s and my bedroom.

  I bent to my shoes to take them off, just as a light came on and lit the room.

  I straightened and looked to the bed to see Ren pushing up to lounge against the headboard, hair tousled (hot) but not looking sleepy (weird).

  “Hey,” I whispered like he was still asleep. “Sorry I woke you.”

  He said nothing. He just looked at me.

  This was strange and a little scary. He knew what I was doing that night and he’d been cool about it. He said nothing. He asked nothing. He didn’t even give me any looks where his jaw was clenched or his lips were tight.

  Now, the deed was done and he knew it’d been done.

  So maybe he was no longer feeling like ignoring it or letting it go. Maybe he was feeling like reacting to it. Maybe in a not so good way. Maybe in an Italian American hotheaded macho alpha way.

  Before I could ask, he twisted, stretched out an arm and grabbed something from his nightstand. He only had it in his hand for a second when he started to lounge back. But before he got into position, I froze, a chill running over my skin.

  This was because “Tush” started playing from the Bose dock on his nightstand.

  Fuck.

  “Someone told you,” I guessed.

  He shook his head.

  ZZ Top rocked on as I stared at him.

  Then, my throat closing on the words, I asked, “You were there?”

  “Absolutely,”
he answered. “You think I’d miss that?”

  Oh shit.

  Oh fuck.

  Shit!

  “I thought—” I started.

  “Baby, you take your clothes off right now, you do it to this song, for me. My guess, those four posts’ll hold. If you break the bed, I don’t give a fuck.”

  I just stared.

  “You want me to start the song again?” he offered.

  What was happening?

  “I—” I began.

  “Christ, you were so fuckin’ hot up there, I’m still hard.”

  Oh my God!

  He kept going.

  “I’m gettin’ that my woman puts her mind to something, everyone better watch their ass. Because whatever she’s got a mind to do, she’s gonna kick its ass.”

  Relief flooded through me, along with something else. Maybe a lot of something else’s. His words singing straight to my soul, I dashed to Ren’s side of the bed and launched myself, landing on Ren.

  His arms closed around me instantly and he rolled us so I was on my back and he was on me.

  He lifted his head and looked into my eyes.

  “Don’t remember you dancin’ horizontally, honey,” he noted.

  “That kind of dancing is just for you.”

  I just caught his sexy, gorgeous smile before I closed my eyes because he kissed me.

  After that, we had a whole load of horizontal fun through “Tush,” “Sharp Dressed Man,” “Gimme All Your Lovin’,” “Legs” and then some.

  And Ren only paused the fun to grab the remote and turn the music up.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Not a Towel Throwing Type of Girl

  My ass on Ren’s counter, Ren leaning against the counter kitty corner from me, I looked up from my plate and saw my man’s eyes on me.

  They were probing.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You good?” he asked back.

  “Yeah,” I answered, confused. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “You got in last night at three. I kept you up a fuckuva lot later. It’s not even seven, but you look fine and you got hardly any sleep.”

  “You didn’t either,” I reminded him.

  “Yeah,” he agreed. “And I’m draggin’.”

  He didn’t look like he was dragging. He looked like Ren. Confident, even just standing there eating. And hot (of course).

  “How do you do it?” he asked.

  I shrugged and turned my attention to my eggs. “Live the rock star life, babe. Have for a while.” I forked up some eggs, chewed, swallowed, looked at him and grinned. “Sleep is overrated.”

  He grinned back and took his plate to the sink. After I ate my final strawberry, he took mine and it joined his.

  Then he got in position between my legs, arms around me, so I wrapped mine around him.

  “What’s up for your day?” he queried.

  “Go make coffee. Go over office furniture catalogues with Daisy. Try to make inroads with finding out what’s bugging Darius. Strip. Hit some tweaker houses with Hector and Tex to see if we can crack the case of the Highland burglaries. Come home to my man.” I tipped my head to the side. “You?”

  “Power play day,” he stated strangely then asked, “Find out what’s bugging Darius?”

  “Yeah. Something’s up with him. He’s got issues. I’m gonna sort them out,” I told him. “But what’s power play day?”

  “Vito and I got into it yesterday.”

  I felt my head jerk right before I fired questions at him. “What? Why? When? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “You had your stripping debut last night. I figured you had shit on your mind so I’m tellin’ you now,” he replied.

  “Okay,” I gave that to him because it was sweet. “Then what? And why?”

  He sighed and got closer to me.

  “He’s pushin’ for a decision, that decision namely bein’ me changin’ my mind. He knows what’s goin’ down with you and me and he’s scramblin’ to get me further in the fold before what I got with you turns me irrevocably. His problem is that he isn’t realizin’ that that turn has already been made. We had words. Dom’s tryin’ to keep things smooth and I’ll give it to him, he’s tryin’, and I respect that. But Vito doesn’t respect Dom much and is makin’ that clearer and clearer by the day. Dom isn’t liking that. He’s towed the line for some time and Vito’s not cuttin’ him any slack. It’s a faulty play. But Dom now has a family, and Sissy and him are lookin’ at tryin’ to grow that family so I’m gettin’ the sense Dom’s rethinking things, same as me. Way Vito’s acting, he’s turnin’ Dom, too.”

  Wow.

  Interesting.

  “So what does power play mean?” I asked.

  He started to run his hand up and down my back and I worried this was soothingly, telling me to brace, but I would find with what he said next it was just affectionately, something I liked a whole lot better.

  “I was gonna just walk away. Still not happy about him showin’ up at your parents, and that was part Vito, part him makin’ a statement to me about who’s the boss of this family. With that and him pushin’, if he doesn’t back off and let that happen, I’ll make this hard on him and everybody.”

  “How?”

  “Because I’m clean. Not squeaky, but I’m clean,” he explained. “And because of that, should something happen to him or Dom, they needed the legitimate holdings to be clean with the understanding that someone would take care of families. What that means is, we got an LLC but it’s not a partnership. I’m the only name on it. So the cops or Feds couldn’t seize our assets if someone went down.”

  Wow again.

  That was freaking smart. Then again, so was my man.

  Ren kept going.

  “This also means my name is on everything. Everything we own as well as the office lease. We got no board to answer to. The only thing tying me to Vito’s authority is respect. He plays the wrong game, instead of lettin’ all that go and walkin’ away, I take it all with me. Or, in this case, kick his ass out.”

  Holy crap.

  He was carrying all the chips!

  I smiled huge. “Zano, that’s awesome.”

  “He doesn’t think I’ll do it. He keeps pissin’ me off, I will. This is what I’m gonna tell him today.”

  If Vito didn’t think Ren would do it, he was a fool, and that surprised me. Hell, Zach had barely got the chance to get in my face before Ren sorted that situation. My guess was that it was partially Vito, maybe a little of it in his genes, that made Ren not a man you messed with. Therefore, Vito should know better.

  “I’m guessing this will be unpleasant,” I noted.

  “Something’s gotta give,” Ren replied. “We’ve been back and forth for a while. I keep thinkin’ he’ll get his head outta his ass. It feels like he’s stallin’.” He smiled at me and dipped his face to mine. “But the rest of my life is where I want it.” His arms gave me a squeeze indicating (righteously) he was talking about me. “That’s the last piece to slot in. I’m impatient to get this shit done.”

  I repositioned to circle his neck with my arms and offered, “You need to talk or anything, you know how to find me.”

  “Yeah,” he said softy then pulled back an inch and announced, “Goin’ with you tonight to do that thing in the Highlands.”

  I blinked. “What?”

  “Goin’ with you tonight to do that thing with you in the Highlands,” he mostly repeated.

  “Zano—”

  His face got close again. “Baby, not gettin’ in your business. But after last night, wanna watch you do your thing.”

  That feeling stole through me again because he didn’t sound like he was doing this to horn his way in to find a way to protect me, or alternately, find a reason to talk me out of doing it.

  He sounded like he was genuinely interested in what I did.

  And it had to be said, I was good at what I did, and after his reaction last night, where he gave me absolutely no shit i
n a situation where any alpha badass would lose his mind, but instead he got off on it, it seemed Ren was coming around.

  Spectacularly.

  “Right, then you’re going with us tonight,” I agreed.

  He grinned, moved in and kissed me. It was sweet, but short (unfortunately).

  He lifted his head and stated, “Find time between one thing and another to have dinner with your man.”

  Bossy.

  But since this was something I wanted too, I nodded.

  He gave me a brush on the lips and moved away, saying, “Don’t worry about the dishes. I’ll rinse ‘em then deal with ‘em when I get home. We both gotta get goin’.”

  Another order that I could accept so I nodded again and jumped off the counter.

  Ren ran water over the dishes as I prepared travel mugs of coffee for us. We walked out together, Ren locking up after us.

  His Jag was at the front of the house (it always was and the street was busy, meaning he might have parking voodoo, too). Mine was across the street and down some (which, without parking voodoo, was a better than average spot for me).

  Being Ren, he walked me to my car. Another brush on the lips before he stood with his hand on the door while I folded in.

  “Later, babe,” I said, my hand on the handle to pull the door closed, but he nor his hand moved. I looked up to him to see him looking down the street. “Zano?” I called.

  “You know that guy?” he asked.

  I twisted in my seat and looked out the side of my car. I saw nothing but a car driving away.

  “What guy?” I asked back and looked up at him.

  He was still gazing down the street then he looked down at me. “He got in his car and took off as you were gettin’ in yours. You get a look at him at all?”

  “No,” I answered. “Who was he?”

  “Seen him at your apartment building,” Ren said, and I felt the skin on the back of my neck prickle. “I’d come over. He’d hear me knock and look out. Four doors down from you.”

  So that was why Ren was always staring down the hall.

  I tried to think who lived four doors down from me and realized I didn’t know. I’d known a number of people in my building but who was behind that door wasn’t one of them.