“Shit to do,” he muttered, which meant we were done.
“Darius?” I called, even though he was looking at me.
“Right here, Ally.”
“I love what I do. I’m going to love doing it for a living. But the thing I love most is that you always believed in me.”
Darius held my eyes a beat before he looked down to the seat.
When he lifted his eyes again, I took in a hissed breath at the unconcealed pain there.
“And I love it that you always believed in me,” he whispered.
Oh God.
I leaned toward him. “Darius—”
“Get outta my truck, Ally.”
“Darius—”
“Out, sweetheart.”
It was him calling me sweetheart and doing it in a voice that was rough with emotion that made me nod and exit his vehicle immediately.
I stood on the sidewalk and watched him drive away.
Definitely time for tequila and a sit down between Darius and me.
I looked across the street and gave a wave to Lucky who was standing outside a sedan and leaning into his forearms on its roof.
He lifted a hand and gave me a salute.
I gave him a chin lift that was probably not macho badass and walked into Fortnum’s.
It was a hair after opening, which meant the place was packed.
Duke was behind the book counter, and when I caught his eyes, he scowled at me, turned and disappeared into the rows of shelves behind him.
Okay, so, tequila with Darius. And also beer with Duke.
Tex and Jet were behind the espresso counter and I headed there, even though both of them being there left little room for me. Not because there wasn’t enough room for three people. Just that, with the addition of Jet’s seven month’s pregnant belly, it made it a tight squeeze.
We got to work, but I knew I was operating on borrowed time caused by the coffee rush and this was confirmed when it slowed and immediately Tex turned to me.
“Not happy,” he boomed, even though I was three feet away.
I was not surprised by this announcement. Not because I ticked everyone off with my secrecy.
No, because Tex was rarely happy.
“What now?” I asked.
“You’re hooked up with Zano.”
Shit.
Here we go.
“Tex—” I started.
“That means you got Zano Family protection. So that means no one’s gonna fuck with you. So that means you’re gonna do whatever it is you’re gonna do, but still, shit’s gonna stay boring.”
I stared.
Tex kept booming. “That apartment explosion was a fluke. Those New Mexicans get wind you’ve got family protection, they’re gonna back off. Then where we gonna be?”
“Safe and happy?” Jet suggested, and Tex turned a narrowed gaze and knitted bushy brows to her.
“What fun is that?” he asked.
“Just pointing out,” I entered the conversation, “the other Rock Chicks had Nightingale and police protection, not to mention Sloan and Zano protection in some cases, and shit happened to them.”
Was I assuring Tex of impending danger and mayhem?
“You women burned your way through anyone stupid enough to spit into the eye of those tigers. There’s no one left,” Tex replied.
“Maybe those New Mexicans won’t get wind of all that,” I proposed. “Out-of-towners with no local known associates, they may be slow to cotton on.”
