Rock Chick Revolution(114)

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 f*ckin’ 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 f*ck 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.”