Lee could do that.
And Darius would do that. He cared a lot about me.
And if either of them did that, it would piss me off.
But I didn’t need to expend that energy, seeing as I had absolutely no problem with him being my wingman.
In fact, I had absolutely no problem with any of it (save the running, but I figured I could rock a track suit and I could get some of those kickass double hair band thingies to pull my hair away from my face while I ran and be totally stylin’).
In order to communicate this to Darius, it was my turn to lean into him.
And when I did, I whispered, “You know, I totally love you.”
Something moved over his face. Something I’d seen before when he didn’t know I was watching.
Uncertainty mixed with melancholy. I didn’t totally get it. What I did get was that Darius Tucker had had a beautiful life a long time ago. A big loving family, good friends, a bright future. And all that went to shit. He made desperate—and it had to be said, angry—decisions, and his life spiraled down the toilet. In that time, I suspected he did a lot of things that seared marks onto his soul.
I just didn’t know if he was on a path to redemption or thought his future only held damnation.
That was his to know and share if he felt like it.
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.
