Rock Chick Revolution

by Ashley, Kristen

  “I’d understand that if Darius was part of their lives,” I returned.

  “The kid’s sixteen,” Ren told me.

  “And?” I prompted.

  “Count back the years, baby,” he said gently.

  I did.

  But Ren did the math for me. “She was pregnant at the funeral, Ally.”

  “So?”

  “What do you know about Malia Clark?” he asked instead of answering.

  “I know she was a cheerleader. I know she was gorgeous and still is. I know she went with Indy and me and a bunch of our friends to a Prince concert that Indy got front row seats to. And I know that Malia almost passed out with glee when The Purple One did a twirl, his sweat flew off and it hit Malia. I also know before Darius’s dad was murdered, he and Malia were tight. And now I know she was knocked up at his dad’s funeral, which was why she dropped out of sight her senior year and I haven’t seen her since.”

  “And what was Darius doin’ his senior year?”

  I didn’t answer that. This was because, instead of being on the football field as he had been the three years previously, he was under the bleachers, dealing dope for his uncle.

  Ren let my silence be my response and went on.

  “Well, I know she was a court reporter who studied at night to become a paralegal, which is what she now does. I also know that Liam Clark has already signed a pre-commitment to a college. This has part to do with the way he can run a ball on a football field. But mostly it has to do with the fact that he’s hitting his junior year in high school next year, he’s already taking almost a complete schedule of AP classes and the college he’s committed to is Harvard.”

  Whoa.

  “No shit?” I breathed.

  “Darius Tucker is no fool. He’s also fuckin’ sharp. Malia Clark isn’t one either, and she’s a hard worker. And the kid they made didn’t fall far from the tree.”

  This was cutting me deep already.

  Knowing all this, it was killing me.

  I leaned into Ren and said, “Then he’s gotta know his kid. He’s got to show him where he got some of how awesome he is. He’s got—”

  “Do you honestly believe Tucker thinks he gave anything good to that boy?” Ren asked.

  I sat back and snapped, “Well, he did.”

  “You know that, baby, and so do I. But Tucker doesn’t.”

  “Zano—”

  “How would you feel, you’re set to go to Harvard, your life laid out beautifully, and your ex-drug dealer dad shows up and fucks with your head?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. Probably about the same way Darius, who had much the same scholarship to Yale for exactly the same reasons, his life laid out beautifully, felt when his dad was murdered,” I shot back. “Difference is, his dad was dead and couldn’t show him the way to get rid of his anger in a healthy way. Darius is not dead.”

  “Do you think he has the tools to give that to his son?”

  “What I think is, neither of them will know if they don’t try.”

  “Ally—”

  But it was safe to say I’d had enough.

  “This is fucked up bullshit,” I hissed.

  “Baby—”

  I jumped off the desk and stated (loudly), “If he’d let us in, he’d know we’d have his back. His kid doesn’t need to know any of that shit. And we’d be there to prove how great Darius is. Anyone knows the people around you that give their hearts to you shows to the world the person you are. He’s got tons of friends who love him, which means he’s not only making Liam live without his father, he’s making all of us live without Liam. And, Ren, that is not on.”

  Ren stood and put his hands to either side of my neck, dipping his face close to mine.

  “You need to tread cautiously with this, and by that I mean leave it alone,” he advised.

  “Why? Do you think Darius would whack me?” I snapped sarcastically.

  “No. What I think is that you love him and you’ll have difficulty living without him in your life. And more, you’ll have difficulty explaining to Shirleen, your brother and Chavez why Darius got shot of the lot of you because you stuck your nose in.”

  Fuck!

  He was right.

  And I suspected Darius would do that. This was why Lee and Eddie hadn’t already stepped in. Maybe they’d tried and got their hands burned. So they learned.

  “Goddamn it,” I bit out.

  He knew I was stymied and that was why he pulled slightly away and some of his intensity left him. But, in an effort to make me feel better, he stroked my throat with his thumb which, even frustrated as all get out, kind of worked.

  Then he asked, “How’d you learn this shit?”

  “An anonymous source, namely Eddie Chavez. And if you share that with anybody, I’m telling Smithie to ban you from entry so you can’t watch me strip again.”

  His lips quirked, but his eyes went reflective.

  So I asked, “What?”

  “Surprised Chavez shared that with you.”

  “He’s as stymied as I am. Probably wants to do something about it, can’t, so he’s heard I’m all over Darius’s ass and, obviously, is willing to throw me under the bus.”

  “Hmm,” Ren mumbled.

  “Hmm, what?” I asked.

  “Hmm, if I tell you what that means, you’ll get ideas so I’ll keep the what of my hmm to myself.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Do you honestly think that’s gonna work?”

  He studied me. Then he slid his hands from my neck so he could wrap his arms around me loosely.

  I returned the favor and waited (but not patiently).

  When he didn’t say anything, I said a warning, “Zano.”

  He pulled me closer and asked bizarrely, “Have you heard the song Hold on Loosely?”

  Had he temporarily lost his sanity?

  I was a Rock Chick.

  Of course I’d heard it.

  “Hello?” I called unnecessarily. “I’m Ally Nightingale.”

  He took my meaning therefore stated, “So you know the words.”

  I rolled my eyes, rolled them back and said shortly, “Yes. Now can we get back—?”

  “I heard that song this morning on the way to work and realized that’s how I gotta deal with you.”

  I snapped my mouth shut.

  Then I stopped being peeved.

  Because he was so right.

  And that was sweet.

  “So I’m gonna tell you what that hmm means. But first, I’m gonna say that what Tucker’s givin’ you is all he thinks he has to give. I’m sensing that isn’t enough for you. And before you do shit, you need to ask yourself if what he has to give is enough, because what you have to lose with him is everything. You also have to understand that what’s at stake for you is at stake for everybody in your posse. You have to make that decision for everybody. All or nothing, or accept him as he comes. And that’s a huge decision to make, baby.”

  “I get you,” I said softly.

  He studied me a moment, obviously took in that I processed what he said, then he again spoke.

  “My hmm meant that Chavez would not share shit with you if he didn’t trust you to use it wisely. He has faith in you to handle this situation. He’s not throwing you under the bus. You’re his partner in a tag team and he just tagged you in. But he’s expecting you to enter the ring and kick ass. Not let the team down. Now you gotta decide if you go through those ropes, honey, or throw in the towel.”

  “I’m not a towel throwing type of girl, Ren,” I shared honestly, and his arms got tighter.

  “I know. Still. Think about it.”

  I nodded.

  “Good,” he murmured. Then louder, “I got to clear some shit, it’ll take me about half an hour. You good to wait? Then we’ll go out to dinner.”

  “I’m good to wait,” I told him.

  “That waiting would be in here with me. Not out in reception, givin’ Dawn shit, knowin’ she can’t retaliate.”

&
nbsp; Well, there went my plans for the next half hour.

  “I wouldn’t do that,” I totally lied.

  “You so fuckin’ would.” He knew I was lying.

  I rolled my eyes, but it was all for show.

  Ren knew this because on the downward roll, he was kissing me.

  After kissing me, he got to work.

  I inspected his office.

  But I did it thinking on how I could get Darius back with his family.

  Without the one he already had losing him.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Runs Deep

  I stood in a dark corner of Smithie’s, surveying the scene.

  I’d had a call that evening from Roam, reporting in. And what he’d reported was that he saw a waitress do a handoff to Steiner. Alarmingly, Roam then reported that he’d followed Steiner.

  Fortunately, Steiner hadn’t noted the tail. Also fortunately, Roam followed Steiner directly to another meeting, and this wasn’t another girl. It was Steiner dropping off the take to a man Roam described as big, bulky, light brown hair, and “a white dude that’ll fuck you up rather than look at you,” (Roam’s words).

  After I told him to punt this information to Darius, not follow Steiner again, definitely not follow the other dude and not to use the f-word, I added surveillance onto my night at Smithie’s.

  It was a good move because, in moments, I clocked him.

  A man of that description was sitting at a table somewhat back from the stage. Steiner, who worked the room, gave him a wide berth, saying to anyone who knew what they were looking for that he was doing all he could so no one would associate the two.

  As I stood there, back to the wall, I watched the man sitting at his table like he owned the joint, not Smithie. The waitress at his section served him, but she was jittery. She wasn’t having a bad night. She served her other tables more comfortably. That meant she knew him or understood his threat.

  And Roam’s description was apt. Completely. This guy would fuck someone up rather than look at them.

  I kept my eye on him, and Steiner, with plenty of time to do it. I’d already danced my first song so I had time until the next one. And this, essentially surveillance, was one of the few things I could do patiently.

  Therefore I also saw him leave his seat once for a private lap dance with JoJo.

  She came out of the room where they did the private dances looking freaked.

  He came out looking the same as normal, strolling back to his table that the waitress had shooed three customers from and resuming his seat like he was king of all he surveyed.

  And he was.

  I just didn’t get why.

  My cell in my hand vibrated. So its light wouldn’t illuminate my face and bring attention to me, I moved from my spot to the dancers’ hall and down to the end.

  I had a text from Darius. It said Outside.

  By the way, this was badass for Meet me outside, please.

  Coming, I texted back then moved out the backdoor the bouncers used to take the dancers to their cars.

  Darius was right there with a brick in his hand. He grabbed my hand, pulled me out, bent and put the brick on the ground by the jamb so the door didn’t close.

  “It locks and I don’t want you goin’ back inside through the front,” he murmured as he again grabbed my hand and pulled me away from the door.

  “What’s up?” I asked when we stopped.

  “The motherfucker Roam clocked?” Darius asked back.

  “Yeah,” I answered.

  “Name’s Cyrus Gibbons. Got his own strip club in Lincoln closed down ‘cause he forced his girls to do lap dances that went the extra mile. Did six months.”

  Shit.

  Not.

  Good.

  “Don’t know his connection with Steiner,” Darius went on. “Do know he moved from Nebraska to Colorado about four months ago, which was when he got out. Not sure, though, if his PO received his change of address form.”

  “PO” was “Probation Officer” and they tended to frown on ex-cons going over state lines.

  I didn’t mention that to Darius since he already knew.

  I noted, “Which is about a month before Steiner got the job here.”

  “Which gave him plenty of time to assess the talent and decide on his mark,” Darius added. “Had a sit down with Brody. Lee already tore him off the book thing to do other jobs. Told him shit here was bad and he needed to find time to get on Steiner and Gibbons. He’ll have something tomorrow.”

  “We need to know who else is involved,” I said. “But, just saying, the guy’s in the bar, lording over it like his name’s on the deed.”

  “Copy that, also saw him go in,” Darius replied then told me, “Dude’s packin’.”

  I stared at him a beat before asking, “He’s carrying concealed at a strip joint?”

  Darius nodded.

  “Fuck,” I whispered, then stated, “His waitress is scared shitless of him. And he got a lap dance from JoJo and she came out looking freaked.”

  “Steiner makes the pickups, Gibbons provides the threat,” he deduced.

  “But what’s the threat?” I asked. “Any of those girls knows they say one word to Smithie, he’ll sort this whole thing.”

  Darius shook his head. “No clue. We need to be all over those guys. Told Shirleen I want Roam and Sniff off this shit. Bobby and I are gonna look into it.”

  “Good,” I murmured. “Tell him to keep track of his hours and we’ll sort something through Daisy with Smithie.”

  “Got it,” Darius replied and his eyes grew intent. I was doing my all not to react to what I’d learned about him that day and keep my mouth shut about it until I could figure out what I was going to do when he said, “Guy’s got a weapon, you be smart in there.”

  I nodded. “Always.”

  “I’m eyes out here. Don’t like you in there without backup, but if one of the boys shows, they’ll wonder why they’re there when their boss’s sister is strippin’.”

  “Ren’s coming later,” I told him and grinned. “And then there’s me.”

  Darius looked relieved, but I would find it was not about the me taking care of me part. “This guy’s even a little clued into the players in Denver, he’ll have heard of Zano. If he knows you’re his woman, he’ll be smart.”

  Shit.

  “That might mean he knows about me,” I remarked.

  “He’s gotta be pretty clued in to the game here to know you, Ally. You do good, and one of the ways you do good is you keep your head down. Your jobs have got around, but to players like Lee, not guys like him.”

  “My apartment just exploded, Darius,” I reminded him. “That kind of thing gets a lot of attention. And my brother is a cop, the other one a PI.”

  “Hold your cover and ride it, Ally. Bobby’s on board, Brody doin’ his gig, it’ll be done soon.”

  That I could believe.

  I nodded. “Gotta get back in there. Tell Bobby thanks from me.”

  “Will do,” he murmured, moving to the door.

  After he grabbed the brick and was holding it open for me, I looked him in the eyes. “Thank you too, honey.”

  “Jeez, got yourself a man, you’re gettin’ soft.”

  My back went straight. “Am not.”

  “Gushy.”

  “I’m just expressing gratitude,” I pointed out.

  “Expressed. Now get your ass in there so no one wonders where the fuck you are,” he returned.

  “Bossy badass,” I muttered, moving through the door.

  “Ally?” he called and I turned back. “You’re bein’ a soft, gushy chick. But you’re also welcome.”

  I watched him grin huge.

  Then I watched the door close.

  And then I thought about how Liam Edward Clark was missing out.

  Huge.

  I shook off this thought and went to the dancers’ dressing room. I bided my time, shooting the shit with Lottie until the opportunity came about
five minutes before I went on again. I gave Lottie a look, she took off mumbling about needing the bathroom and I moved to JoJo, who’d come in for a break and stripper makeup refresh (a hefty undertaking, trust me).

  I moved to her, and without a lot of time before I was due onstage, I had to get my message across and fast.

  So I stood behind her and looked in her eyes in the mirror. “Hey.”

  “Hey, Ally,” she replied on a smile that wasn’t quite real. But she tried, I could see. “You’re killing. After that big thing last night, the girls and me watched your next dance. You rock.”

  “Thanks, babe,” I replied.

  “You gotta show me how to do that pole flip,” she said.

  “How’s tomorrow before shift change?” I asked.

  “Works for me,” she went back to her blusher. “Tips went wild after you and Lottie left the stage.” Another smile to me, this one making the back of my neck prickle because it was melancholy. Possibly because she just handed her tips to Gibbons, or knew she’d be handing them to Steiner. “Thanks for that.”

  “No probs,” I replied.

  She again turned her attention to her blusher.

  “JoJo?” I called. Her eyes came to mine in the mirror, her brows went up and my voice dropped low. “No matter what it is, you put your faith in the right person, they can move in and work it out. You with me?”

  She was with me. She’d frozen and looked utterly freaked.

  “Just take that in,” I whispered. “You don’t have to do anything. Just take it in. Yeah?”

  She nodded slowly.

  I smiled at her and moved away, hoping she’d more than take it in.

  Then I moved into the hall because it was time to strip.

  * * * * *

  The rendezvous point for our late, late night activities was Tex’s house.

  After finishing my last set, Ren followed me home so we could drop his Jag. We were taking my car, because in Tex’s ‘hood where tweakers were abundant, Jags were like shining beacons calling all to commit mayhem.

  When he came to my ‘stang, he opened my door and leaned in. It was then I saw the look in his eyes, which meant I was hoping this business would be done, and quick, so we could get back home and fuck each other’s brains out.