Rock Chick Revolution (Rock Chick #8)(137)

“You go there, you’ll know,” he replied mysteriously.

“Eddie, just tell me what it is,” I demanded.

“Like I said, chica, you go there, you’ll know.”

“Why the mystery?” I asked.

“Because I worked my ass off for f**kin’ years to keep Darius in my life. He’s mi hermano. What we got, our history, he means a f**kuva lot to me. And if he knows I gave you that, he’s a memory to me. I give you more, honest to God, no tellin’ what he’d do. So you take that. You go there. You’ll know why I gave it to you.”

He leaned into me and his voice dropped low.

“But I’m trustin’ you, Ally. You go cautious with what you do with what you find out. You f**k this up, we got problems. Hear me?”

Holy crap!

What was at this address?

“You didn’t answer me,” Eddie prompted.

“Right, big badass cop, I’m standing right here so I heard you. And just to say, I’m tight with Darius too. We also have history. So you saying that shit to me means you don’t understand that what I’m trying to do is get him right. Not f**k him up further and definitely not drive him away.”

Eddie held my eyes then leaned back, lips twitching as he murmured, “Jeez, you’ve always had balls, Ally.”

“No, I don’t. I’m a girl. What I’ve always been is a Rock Chick,” I retorted.

“Whatever, same thing” he muttered. “We’re done. Gonna go see my wife.”

Then without a good-bye (or even a chin lift), he was gone.

I looked down at the slip of paper in my hand.

Then I rearranged my afternoon.

* * * * *

I sat in my car, eyes on the house at the address Eddie gave to me.

It was a new build in Stapleton. Not big. Not small. Well-kept, but then again, in this ‘hood, the HOA Nazis wouldn’t let it be anything else.

It was late afternoon and I’d sorted what I needed to sort for my night’s activities. I’d also called my ex-landlord and got voicemail, but asked for a return call. I also left a voicemail to Brody because I didn’t think it was fair to let him keep obsessing about the Rock Chick books when the mystery was solved.

I just didn’t know exactly what to say to him to get him to stop or if I was going to let that cat out of the bag. And if I did, how to do it at the same time managing damage control.

Coming to no conclusions about any of that, and since nothing was happening on my stakeout and I was curious (okay, worried), I called Ren.

He answered with, “Hey, baby.”

“Hey back at cha,” I replied. “How’s your day?”

“If that’s non-invasive Ally Speak for how did things go with Vito, it went shit.”

Oh man.

“What happened?” I asked.

“He said if I try to pull our assets from under him, it means war.”

Holy shit!

“Oh my God, Ren,” I whispered.

“Babe, Vito… he’s got a bark and he’s got a bite. With me, he won’t bite. Me and Dom are the only sons he has and there’s no mistaking I’m a favorite. That said, it gets down to it, he’s also the only father I’ve had, and he knows that means something to me. He’s savin’ face. It’s bluster. He’ll think on this, give me shit, then he’ll back off and one of two things will happen. The Zanos will go legit, or we’ll go our separate ways. Either way, I’ll be the f**k out.”

“Well, I hope you go legit because I like it that your offices are across from mine.”

This was true.

It also meant I would have many opportunities to get creative and f**k up Dawn’s day.

Repeatedly.

I heard Ren’s soft laughter in my ear before he said, “Gotta say, honey, since I signed that lease, I’ve been thinking the same thing.”

“We could carpool to work,” I suggested and got more soft laughter.

Really.

Totally.

This together togetherness was super easy.

The door to the house I was watching opened and my back went straight.

The garages were in the back but I couldn’t stakeout back there without being seen. Therefore, I knew, unless I could find a vantage point to the garage not in my car, I would be lucky if I saw anything since coming and going activity would all happen at the back.

I was tenacious and this had to do with Darius, so I tried it anyway.

But now I was seeing something.

And I couldn’t f**king believe my eyes.

A very handsome African American boy-man, maybe sixteen, was walking out of the house. He was tall, his hair cut close to his head, very well-muscled, and he had a basketball held loosely under his arm.

But it wasn’t just him that had my attention.

Coming out behind him but stopping on the front step was Malia Clark. She was wearing attractive business-style clothes, but her feet were bare like she’d kicked off her heels when she got home. Her thick, black, straightened hair was long and had soft curls at the ends but the front was tucked behind her ear in a casual sexy way that worked great with her oval face and big eyes.

She was smiling at the boy as he walked away and they were talking to each other. I knew this since her mouth was moving and he kept looking over his shoulder.