Rock Chick Revolution(102)

“Absolutely not,” I answered.

“So I mentioned to Dom at the wedding yesterday I was havin’ dinner with your folks tonight. Dom opened his mouth and Vito did what Vito does. He horned in,” he deduced.

“Probably.”

His voice was just pissed when he said, “Don’t worry. I’ll get rid of them.”

“Do that fast,” I ordered, then explained my eagerness for him to be rude, “See, Mom and Dad will be cool with you because I love you. I don’t love Vito and Angela, and Dad really doesn’t love at least Vito. So he’s probably in there, about to have an aneurysm because Mom won’t let him be mean to guests. Even surprise ones. Even ones who engage in criminal activities. And anyway, knowing what you mean to me, he definitely won’t want to be mean in front of your mom and sisters. The problem is, Mom likely instigated the Lee and Hank being here thing without telling us, which means Dad also doesn’t have the upper hand. So he’s screwed, and he won’t like that.”

To all that, Ren’s answer was simply, “Like I said, Ally. Don’t worry, I’ll get rid of them.”

He let me go and turned to his door, but a thought occurred to me, I grabbed his wrist and yanked.

He turned back to me.

“You can’t get rid of your mom and sisters, so you just have to get rid of Vito, Angela, Dom and Sissy.”

Something else occurred to me and I yanked again at his wrist.

“No. Not Sissy, because she’s a sister, so you can’t get rid of her, which means we’re stuck with Dom, too. Which also probably means were stuck with Vito. Shit!”

Ren twisted his wrist to grab my hand and hold it tight as he leaned into me, and I noticed his eyes studying me.

Intently.

“You’re freaked,” he whispered, and his voice sent a chill over my skin.

“I… well, a little bit,” I admitted.

“You’re totally freaked,” he stated.

His family was in there with my family, and some of his family engaged in criminal activities and my family was a cop family.

Not to mention, without warning, I was meeting his mother and sisters.

Of course I was freaked.

“Okay, maybe more than a little bit,” I allowed.

His eyes moved over my face in the waning sunlight, the air in the car got heavy then, again with the scary whisper, “My woman doesn’t get freaked.”

Uh-oh.

“Ren—”

“Let’s go,” he clipped.

Before I could say another word, he let me go, turned to his door and angled out.

I rushed to do the same thing. I barely got to the sidewalk before my hand was seized and Ren half walked with me, half dragged me toward my childhood home.

The dragging part had to do with the fact that I couldn’t keep up with his pace. I had on a pair of high-heeled bronze sandals that were awesome and went great with my new brown-washed jeans and kickass Stevie-Nicks-meets-Olivia-Newton-John batwing dusty blue top shot with bronze and silver that had a deep vee. But even the reminder that I had on great jeans, shoes and a kickass rock ‘n’ roll top didn’t unfreak me (as it usually would do).

We were at the base of the walk when the door opened and expelled Roxie and Indy.

Roxie had her hands up, palms down, pressing the air and she was calling out (but quietly), “Calm. Calm. It’s all going to be okay. We got out the leaves for the dining room table.”

This did not make me feel better, and not just because Mom didn’t have that many leaves.

Indy just lifted a hand and stated, “No worries. It’s under control.”

I couldn’t tell if Ren even looked at either one of them before he hauled us through them.

As for me, I had just enough time to give them a wide-eyed, warning-danger-is-imminent look they both totally understood before he tugged at my arm, pulling me in front of him. He did this while reaching beyond me to yank open the storm door, push open the front door then shove me in front of him.

I took two steps in, Ren one, and we were faced with a tense family room filled with people holding cocktails or bottles of beer; none of them, I noticed on a quick scan, having a good time.

Except Vito looked like Vito always looked. Expansive and happy.

Shit.

The Montagues and Capulets were never congregated in anyone’s living room. If they were, I had a feeling from the vibe in my parents’ house right then, Romeo and Juliet would be a much shorter play.

Crap.

“Malcolm and Kitty Sue,” Ren greeted my parents tersely with a chin jerk, and then his eyes immediately went to Vito. “Vito, a word outside.”

“Son, we’re havin’ a drink,” Vito returned, lifting up what looked like a Manhattan.

“A,” Ren started, his voice on that one syllable rumbling and another chill ran over my skin, “word.”

Vito and Ren went into a staredown.

Indy and Roxie squeezed in through the limited space Ren left at the door, but they didn’t move in much further, just because movement in that kind of volatile environment could mean bad things.

I held my breath.

Surprisingly, Ren won the staredown when Vito turned to Mom and Dad and said, “Mal, Kitty Sue, my nephew needs a word.”

Mal?

Oh God.

Dad’s lips got tight.