Rock Chick Revolution (Rock Chick #8)(19)

As for me, I’d learned over and over again, since Rosie dragged Indy into his mess (thus starting the Rock Chick Rollercoaster), good people did bad things and bad people did good things.

I just trusted God would sort it out as it needed to be.

When Darius said nothing, I assured him, “You don’t have to say it back. I know where you are. And if I didn’t, you coming here tonight and doing what you’ve done would have told me.”

To this, Darius said, “You’re a pain in the ass.”

He so totally loved me.

“Good,” I replied on a smile. “That’s what I strive to be.”

“Woman, trust me. You’re succeeding beyond your wildest dreams.”

My smile got bigger.

He took it in, shook his head, then looked back in my eyes.

“Tonight, you’re done. You wait until we look over what Brody gets. He gives you what you need, you got no reason to come back. He doesn’t, we’ll assess and plan. You down with that?”

“Totally.”

“Right,” he muttered, sliding out of the booth. “Get your ass outta here. We’ll go somewhere else and get a drink. You brief me, then I can end this day and get home.”

I followed him out, asking, “Would it be a hit to your street cred if I held your hand?”

“Pain in the ass,” he muttered as answer.

“Or hugged you?” I threw out an alternate suggestion.

“Total pain in the ass.”

I grinned.

We hit the door.

Darius pushed it open for me.

I moseyed through.

* * * * *

Two days later…

I hauled my ass up into Darius’s black Silverado and slammed the door. I didn’t put on my seatbelt. I leaned forward, put my elbows to the dash and drove my hands into my hair, yanking it away from my face and scrunching it at the back of my head.

Brody had found nothing.

But we’d just had a conversation with one of Darius’s informants, and he knew everything.

The vehicle rocked when Darius folded into the driver’s seat and closed his door. He didn’t hit the ignition and the cab stayed silent.

It was the dead of night and we’d just cracked Garden Girl’s case.

And what we learned sucked.

After some time, Darius broke the silence.

“Tomorrow,” he said gently, “you report this to her man and walk away.”

I sat back with a jerk, pulling my hands out of my hair and twisting to him.

“We have to do something,” I snapped.

“We don’t gotta do shit,” he returned, his words harsh but his tone still gentle.

“Darius—”

He leaned into me and hooked his hand behind my head, pulling me close.

“This guy works at an electronic store and is payin’ you by givin’ you a discount on a new flat screen TV. You do not wade into a mess like that for twenty-five percent off a flat screen TV, Ally.”

“That’s a good discount,” I shot back.

His lips curved up, but the humor didn’t reach his eyes. “You give him what he asked for and let him deal.”

“His woman is turning tricks to pay off her brother’s drug debt,” I told him something he already knew since he was the one who found the informant and he stood right by me when we both learned what had befallen Garden Girl.

“That is not your problem.”

“Someone has to tell her it’s not hers.”

“That’d be her man’s job.”

“You think her man’s gonna stick by her side, knowing she’s giving fifty dollar blowjobs?” I asked.

Darius said nothing.

That meant no.

I kept going. “Someone has to kick her brother’s ass straight into rehab”

“That’d be her job.”

“Darius—”

His hand on my head tightened. “Ally, I know his dealer. I already told you, he’s taken two digits, and he’s threatening next up is this guy’s dick. And this dealer will do that. He won’t blink. And he’ll keep sellin’ to him ‘cause he doesn’t give that first f**k this guy’s breakin’ into cars to steal stereos to feed his habit or that his sister is spreadin’ her legs to keep him trippin’. She should have never swung that deal. That’s on her. Her man’s worried about it. You found his problem; it’s on him to solve it. You give him what he needs and walk away.”

He waited for that to penetrate, and when I just sat there grinding my teeth, he kept going.

“And his dealer is all over havin’ her sweet pu**y out there bringin’ in coin. You take that away, I take that away, we insert ourselves into a situation that is not ours to deal with, and we make a dangerous guy unhappy. That is not our mission. Our mission was to find out why that bitch was bein’ hinky. We found out. You report it. We’re done.

“This is f**ked up,” I hissed.

“Learn now,” Darius returned. “You keep doin’ this shit, you’ll see a lot that’s f**ked up. Then you’ll learn a whole new definition of f**ked up, and that definition will keep changing. What you always gotta remember is that it’s not your f**k up. It’s someone else’s. You never take that shit on. You do the job and walk away.”