Rock Chick Revolution(140)

“I’d understand that if Darius was part of their lives,” I returned.

“The kid’s sixteen,” Ren told me.

“And?” I prompted.

“Count back the years, baby,” he said gently.

I did.

But Ren did the math for me. “She was pregnant at the funeral, Ally.”

“So?”

“What do you know about Malia Clark?” he asked instead of answering.

“I know she was a cheerleader. I know she was gorgeous and still is. I know she went with Indy and me and a bunch of our friends to a Prince concert that Indy got front row seats to. And I know that Malia almost passed out with glee when The Purple One did a twirl, his sweat flew off and it hit Malia. I also know before Darius’s dad was murdered, he and Malia were tight. And now I know she was knocked up at his dad’s funeral, which was why she dropped out of sight her senior year and I haven’t seen her since.”

“And what was Darius doin’ his senior year?”

I didn’t answer that. This was because, instead of being on the football field as he had been the three years previously, he was under the bleachers, dealing dope for his uncle.

Ren let my silence be my response and went on.

“Well, I know she was a court reporter who studied at night to become a paralegal, which is what she now does. I also know that Liam Clark has already signed a pre-commitment to a college. This has part to do with the way he can run a ball on a football field. But mostly it has to do with the fact that he’s hitting his junior year in high school next year, he’s already taking almost a complete schedule of AP classes and the college he’s committed to is Harvard.”

Whoa.

“No shit?” I breathed.

“Darius Tucker is no fool. He’s also f*ckin’ sharp. Malia Clark isn’t one either, and she’s a hard worker. And the kid they made didn’t fall far from the tree.”

This was cutting me deep already.

Knowing all this, it was killing me.

I leaned into Ren and said, “Then he’s gotta know his kid. He’s got to show him where he got some of how awesome he is. He’s got—”

“Do you honestly believe Tucker thinks he gave anything good to that boy?” Ren asked.

I sat back and snapped, “Well, he did.”

“You know that, baby, and so do I. But Tucker doesn’t.”

“Zano—”

“How would you feel, you’re set to go to Harvard, your life laid out beautifully, and your ex-drug dealer dad shows up and f*cks with your head?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Probably about the same way Darius, who had much the same scholarship to Yale for exactly the same reasons, his life laid out beautifully, felt when his dad was murdered,” I shot back. “Difference is, his dad was dead and couldn’t show him the way to get rid of his anger in a healthy way. Darius is not dead.”

“Do you think he has the tools to give that to his son?”

“What I think is, neither of them will know if they don’t try.”

“Ally—”

But it was safe to say I’d had enough.

“This is f*cked up bullshit,” I hissed.

“Baby—”

I jumped off the desk and stated (loudly), “If he’d let us in, he’d know we’d have his back. His kid doesn’t need to know any of that shit. And we’d be there to prove how great Darius is. Anyone knows the people around you that give their hearts to you shows to the world the person you are. He’s got tons of friends who love him, which means he’s not only making Liam live without his father, he’s making all of us live without Liam. And, Ren, that is not on.”

Ren stood and put his hands to either side of my neck, dipping his face close to mine.

“You need to tread cautiously with this, and by that I mean leave it alone,” he advised.

“Why? Do you think Darius would whack me?” I snapped sarcastically.

“No. What I think is that you love him and you’ll have difficulty living without him in your life. And more, you’ll have difficulty explaining to Shirleen, your brother and Chavez why Darius got shot of the lot of you because you stuck your nose in.”

Fuck!

He was right.

And I suspected Darius would do that. This was why Lee and Eddie hadn’t already stepped in. Maybe they’d tried and got their hands burned. So they learned.

“Goddamn it,” I bit out.

He knew I was stymied and that was why he pulled slightly away and some of his intensity left him. But, in an effort to make me feel better, he stroked my throat with his thumb which, even frustrated as all get out, kind of worked.

Then he asked, “How’d you learn this shit?”

“An anonymous source, namely Eddie Chavez. And if you share that with anybody, I’m telling Smithie to ban you from entry so you can’t watch me strip again.”

His lips quirked, but his eyes went reflective.

So I asked, “What?”

“Surprised Chavez shared that with you.”

“He’s as stymied as I am. Probably wants to do something about it, can’t, so he’s heard I’m all over Darius’s ass and, obviously, is willing to throw me under the bus.”

“Hmm,” Ren mumbled.