Rock Chick Revolution
Page 16

 Kristen Ashley

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“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.”
I clenched my teeth and slid my eyes away.
Then I looked back and asked, “Why would she do that for her brother?”
“What would you do, body parts from Lee or Hank came to you through the mail?”
I again clenched my teeth and slid my eyes away.
This was my answer, but Darius already knew it.
I’d do anything.
“There is nothing stronger and there is nothing that’ll get you as f**ked up as love,” Darius finished sagely, and I looked back at him.
There was a wisdom borne of experience behind that and I wanted to know what it was.
But, again, that was his to share.
The Rock Chicks, hell, anything (and this evening’s activities proved it), I’d stick my nose in and not give up until I had it all.
Darius… I loved him enough not to go there until (hopefully) he gave it to me.
“You gonna be able to walk away?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I answered.
He studied me before pressing, “Is that yeah firm?”
He so totally knew me.
My eyes moved to the side for a second before going back to him.
“Yeah,” I whispered.
He held my gaze.
Then he nodded.
After that, he let me go and turned toward the wheel. Then he started up his truck and drove me home.
Chapter Four
Wash Him Away
Rock Chick Rewind
Two hours later…
There was a banging on my door.
My eyes fluttered open and I focused on the clock.
It was twelve seventeen.
I smiled to myself. I’d left my Lelo in the nightstand before going to sleep. This was not because, after that night, I didn’t need some form of relaxation.
It was that I was hoping Ren would be the source of that relaxation, as these days he always was. He’d texted me earlier saying he had a late meet, but was hoping, if it didn’t go too late, that he’d come to my house and spend the night.
It was late, but as ever with Ren and me (and we both knew it), no late was too late.
I threw the covers off, got out of bed and moved out of my bedroom.
I was wearing a sexy sapphire blue nightie with deep edges of black lace.
Everyone now knew Indy’s former secret (a secret that was leaked by Indy herself during a Girls Night Out; it wasn’t me who shared, swear) and that was that she always wore sexy underwear. This was because her grandma bought her some on her sixteenth birthday and told her every woman should have that particular secret. Indy took this to heart and lived it from that day forward.
Unfortunately, seeing as he’s my brother, I also knew that Lee very much appreciated this now-not-so-secret.
As in a lot.
I couldn’t say I very much appreciated knowing this about my brother. I could say it wasn’t much of a surprise. I’d been underwear shopping with Indy, and often. She had good taste. And Lee was all man (of the Ren variety) so it wasn’t a big leap that he’d get off on something like that.
What everyone didn’t know was that because I’d known Indy since I was born (which meant I knew Grandma Ellen since I was born, and Grandma Ellen was like a grandma to me too), she gave me the same life lesson.
I just took it further. I wore sexy underwear, no exceptions, no holds barred. I had never owned a pair of granny panties from age sixteen onward.
And I never would.
I also never slept in anything unsexy unless I didn’t sleep in anything (and that was the sexiest of all).
I’d learned that Ren was turned on not only by the tactile but also the visual. He liked watching me go down on him. He liked watching me ride him. He liked watching my face as he rode me. He also liked my nighties. The look and feel.
And I knew he’d learned if he showed late at my place he was in for a treat, because over the last couple of months I’d given him a lingerie cornucopia of delights that he showed his appreciation for in a variety of righteous ways.