Kristen Ashley - Rock Chick Revolution

Ren burst out laughing.

I pressed close and watched, smiling the whole time.

When he was done, I got up on my toes, touched my lips to his, pulled back and moved away.

But I blew him a real kiss before I walked into my new kickass offices to tell the gang they had twenty-five Gs to blow in making them killer.

And it was with no doubt that Ren heard the shrieks and squeals when I did.

By the way, we decided on gray carpet, gray walls and black furniture.

And when Sadie sent a text picture of The Majestic to me and offered the Rock Chick Discount (in other words, free) with a text that said, Remember. I’m loaded, we decided on that, too.

I’d found a parking spot three blocks away from the Lucy in Cherry Creek North but as I was hoofing it up to the store I saw Darius’s Silverado parked three cars down from the front door.

Lee and his boys always managed to do that. It was some kind of voodoo but they had parking magic.

It was annoying, especially after driving by Lucy (twice) to find a parking spot that Darius obviously got after me and hoofing three blocks.

Darius was sitting behind the wheel of his truck. I stopped outside Lucy, where Darius and Brody were supposed to meet me, and sent a salute his way to get his attention even though it looked like his wire-rimmed shades were aimed my way.

He lifted a hand and did a full finger curl indicating I should haul my ass to his truck.

Badasses.

Save me.

I sighed and moved to his truck, yanked open the door, climbed in and turned to him.

“I have a full day and I need to shop,” I said by way of greeting. “So if we can multi-task, that’d work in a big way for me.”

“Then it’s good this meetin’ is gonna go fast because my ass is not gonna be in that store,” Darius replied by way of his.

I knew it.

Whatever.

“Is Brody coming?” I asked. “I texted him and he hasn’t replied.”

“He’s neck deep in used energy drink cans, his eyes are bloodshot and he’s glued to the computer. He’s on a mission to find out who’s writin’ those books and he’s runnin’ up against wall after wall. He’s taken this on as a personal challenge. I think the only break he took since this all went down was to go to Luke and Ava’s thing.”

This surprised me.

“He’s made no headway?”

Darius shook his head. “None at all. He hacked the publisher’s systems and they don’t have that woman on their books. Not electronically. Whoever she is, she obviously knows about Brody and took precautions. Calls to them brought nothin’ back either. They say Kristen Ashley is a penname, the author is adamant about anonymity and they’re not at liberty to give out further information.”

Stymied.

Shit.

“Is there a legal route?” I asked.

“Lee looked into that,” Darius answered. “His attorney asked if there was anything untrue or defamatory in the book. Unfortunately, there’s not. So he’s fucked.”

“What’s Brody doing now?”

“Checkin’ blogs, reviews, anything that might give some hint or start a trail to the author. He’s also tryin’ to pick up a thread on financials since the bitch is local and she has to be gettin’ paid.”

I thought it prudent to inform him, “Just to say, Ren has mentioned he’s also looking into this. He’s not happy it’s gone down and he and I are up eventually so, no pressure on Brody, but I think it would be good if Lee found whoever she is before Ren does.”

“Zano is no way gonna find her before Brody,” Darius spoke what was very likely the truth. “But, advice. You gotta brace. This woman, whoever she is, knows this crew. She knows us well and she’s taken precautions. She’s covered her shit so deep there may be no answer to that question, even for Brody, definitely not for Zano, and all you all might just hafta suck it up.”

I was actually okay with that. Truthfully, though I would never share this with my BFF and brother, I was itching to dig into their book. Though I’d likely skip the sex parts.

“Right, movin’ on to Smithie,” Darius said.

I nodded.

“Seein’ as when I asked Brody if he could take some time to run Smithie’s guy, he threw an empty can of Red Bull at me and Lee would probably get up in my shit if I tore his head off, I let him be.”

I grinned.

“So I ran him.”

“Okay,” I replied.

“Man’s thirty-three and established a career as a bouncer startin’ at twenty-one. Not much on him. He’s got one speeding ticket that he paid. He also got a DUI at nineteen that he beat. I talked with Eddie, Eddie talked with the arresting officer and that guy remembered our guy. The officer said our guy was a smooth talker, even back then. The kind who could talk his way outta anything. So much so, fourteen years have passed and he still remembers him.”

This was not good.

“What kind of clubs has he worked?” I asked.

“Normal shit, no strip clubs. Know a coupla the owners at places he worked, talked to them on the down low. Solid track record. Long tenures. Movin’ on only for more money.”

This gave us nothing.

“So I got eyes on him last night,” Darius told me.

“And?” I prompted.

“So he wouldn’t tag me, I stayed outside. Don’t know what he does backstage, but whatever business he’s doin’, he’s also doin’ it in the parking lot.”

I perked up. “What does that mean?”

“That means he has conversations with the girls he escorts to their cars. Not long ones. But not comfortable ones. Least not for the girls.”

My mind started working.

“We need to get one of the girls wired,” I murmured.

“Yeah. And you need a sit down with Lottie,” Darius stated.

“She’s after I drop a bundle in Lucy,” I told him.

He nodded then asked, “When you goin’ in?”

“I have my first stripper class this afternoon.”

He grinned.

I rolled my eyes.

“Tex and Nancy are getting married on Wednesday. My aim is to be in Thursday, but I have to confirm that with Smithie,” I shared.

“Want you covered,” he replied. “So you keep me in that loop. I’ll be there, but you won’t see me.”

I nodded again then told him, “You need to keep track of your hours and get in touch with Daisy to set up a contract. I’m billing them to Smithie and I’ll be paying you.”

“Unnecessary.”

Argh!

I loved my friends, but this was getting crazy.

“Totally necessary,” I returned.

“Ally, I’ll keep track of my hours. You bill him, but I do this shit for you, not money.”

God, Darius was great.

And everyone was being way cool, but enough was enough.

“Darius, this is my business now and I intend to do it right.”

“To get set up, you need capital. Bill Smithie. Invest that in your agency.”

“Darius—”

“This job,” he cut me off. “We’ll discuss what goes down with future jobs. Jump off on this one, Ally. You sort his shit, Smithie’ll talk you up and half of Denver’s male population strolls through his doors. Shirleen’s puntin’ you business. And Daisy’s got Marcus droppin’ your name. Me workin’ for free is just this job. Take it, pocket it, we talk when we got the next one.”

That I could do. I didn’t love it, but I could do it. Not to mention, agreeing meant we’d stop discussing it so I could get shopping, get to Lottie, get to Daisy’s to take my stripper class then get to my brother’s office for the meeting.

“This one job,” I agreed.

“Right, now got other shit to do,” Darius ended our meeting.

But I wasn’t done.

“We need to talk,” I declared.

“About what?” he asked.

I held his eyes and stated, “About you.”

His chin jerked back.

“Ally—”

I shook my head. “No. You. Me. Tequila. As soon as we can sit down.”

“There’s nothin’ to talk about,” he told me.

“You don’t even know what I want to talk about,” I told him.

“You said it was about me. And I know me.” He leaned in, his face got hard and his voice got kinda scary. “And when it comes to me, there’s nothin’ to talk about.”

Luckily, I didn’t scare easily.

“We’re talking, Darius,” I contradicted. “And we’re doing it soon.”

“This conversation is over,” he decreed. “Outta the truck.”

“Darius—”

He leaned in deeper. “Outta my fuckin’ truck, Ally.”

I leaned right back.

“I love you,” I hissed, and his face behind his shades blanked but I didn’t stop. “And something’s not right with you. You’re holding back and I’m gonna find out why that is and help you get things right.”

“Outta the truck.”

“You know me, honey,” I said. “You know I won’t give up.”

“How’s this?” he asked, leaning back at the same time retreating. Not physically. Emotionally. “What’s wrong with me can’t get right.”

Fuck.

I had a feeling, and my feelings usually were right.

Still, I returned, “That isn’t true.”

“You know?” he asked.

“Yeah. I know. That isn’t true. It’s never true. Anything wrong can be made right.”

“You don’t know dick,” he bit out.

“Darius—”

“Outta my truck.”

“Darius!”

He leaned back in and rumbled (definitely scarily, even to me), “Get the fuck outta my truck.”

I sucked in breath but I didn’t get out of the truck.

I leaned in deep so we were nose to nose, shades to shades, and I declared, “I won’t give up on you. I’ll never give up on you. What I’ll do right now is get outta your truck. But I’ll do it with you knowing me doing it does not mean I’m giving up on you.” My voice dropped to a whisper. “Brace, brother. Because I’m gonna knock myself out to heal what’s broken in you. And I won’t quit until I’ve done it.”