Rock Chick Revolution (Rock Chick #8)(102)
Author: Kristen Ashley

Don’t be alarmed. I’d been around them more than once. This was what they did.

Blanca was Eddie and Hector’s Mom. I’d known her ages, and when she did something, she went all out.

Tonight, even though this was “just family” (for Rock Chicks though, this meant a huge shindig), Blanca didn’t let the team down.

There were bright colored paper lanterns strung in zigzags in the air from house to fence posts across the backyard. There were lit lumieres lining the fence all around. There was low music playing, all love songs, in English and Spanish. There were tables groaning with food, and in the middle were large, bright bouquets of flowers (the flowers, Sadie’s contribution). Blanca had even set up a bar where her eldest son, Carlos, teamed up with Willie Moses, were making people drinks.

Jet had made caramel layer squares (three batches). As I mentioned, Indy had brought the cashews. Ren and I brought a mixed box full of bottles of liquor and a couple cases of beer. Roxie, Stella and Sadie had spent the morning helping Blanca and her daughters Rosa, Gloria and Elena in setting up and cooking.

Tex, wearing another suit (and for once, seemingly content in it), and Nancy, wearing a pretty mint green dress with a fancy thing that was kind of a hat but way smaller so it was mostly a decorated headband (and it had a cool-ass feather) got hitched earlier by the Justice of the Peace. They did this while Indy, Duke and I stood by Tex, and Trixie, Ada (Nancy’s old neighbor, and by “old” I mean that in two ways) and Blanca stood up with Nancy. Jet and Lottie, by the way, Nancy’s daughters, walked at her sides guiding her to Tex.

The deed done, it was time to party.

My favorite time.

And now Herb and Trish were, as ever, going at it.

Herb looked at the table where he had been stuffing his mouth (a table covered in food) to another table five feet away that was also covered in food then across the yard to yet another table which was—you guessed it—covered in food.

Then he looked to his wife. “It’s not like Blanca’s gonna run out.”

“You don’t eat from the bowl, Herb,” Trish shot back. “You get a plate and you never double dip.”

“First, I don’t need a plate when I can stand here eatin’,” Herb replied. “And second, I don’t got cooties. Who cares if I double dip?”

Gross.

“I do,” Trish retorted, and I bit back my verbal agreement.

He glared at her.

Then he declared, “I need a beer.”

“You’ve already had five,” Trish informed him.

“Do we got limits?” he asked.

“You can’t get drunk at Tex’s wedding like you did at Roxie’s,” she returned.

“Why the hell not?” he asked.

“Because it’s rude,” she answered

“It’s a party!” he pointed out loudly.

Surprisingly, Trish had no reply to that. Then again, Herb was absolutely right.

Herb stormed off.

Trish turned to me. “Roxie told me you’ve found yourself a man.”

“I have, Mrs. Logan,” I confirmed.

“Run,” she stated then huffed away.

When she did, Jules moved in, noting, “The requisite Herb and Trish scene.”

I grinned at her. “I’m kinda bummed it happened so soon and didn’t last very long.”

She grinned back at me then reached for some cashews.

As she did, a thought occurred to me and I went with it.

“Hey, Jules, can I talk to you about something?”

She popped the cashews in her mouth, chewed, swallowed and answered, “Sure.”

“I’m worried about Darius,” I told her.

When I said that, her eyes scanned the crowd and mine did, too. What I took in was the fact that we were only an hour into the party portion of the festivities, but both Darius and Jane, who attended the nuptials and showed at Blanca’s, were gone.

I also saw Ren smiling down at a talking Roxie who was standing next to an also-smiling-down-at Roxie Hank. My brother (as usual) had his wife tucked close to his side.

Warmth (or more warmth; since I took my spot next to Duke to stand up with Tex, I was pretty suffused with warmth) spread through me.

“He’s bailed,” Jules noted, and I tore my eyes off my man and looked at her.

“Yeah. He always bails,” I said. “The question is, why? He’s safe here. The people here care about him. He cares about the people here. So why does he accept our acceptance but stay on the fringe?”

Jules didn’t even consider this question before she spoke.

“Vance told me about him,” she said softly. “He said his father was murdered because of something his brother-in-law was into. He had nothing to do with it. It was a warning.”

“I know,” I told her, and I did. I knew all of Darius’s f**ked up sad story.

“Vance also said that this Leon guy, Shirleen’s dead husband, offered Darius a chance at retribution, along with providing for his family, if he got involved in Leon’s business,” Jules went on.

“I know that, too,” I replied. “And he was young and made a stupid decision and got caught up in that. But now he’s not in that anymore, Jules, and hasn’t been for a while. But he acts like…” I shook my head. “I don’t know. Like he doesn’t belong when he does. He always has. When given the chance, and I’ll admit, he didn’t give us many—but he stayed close to Lee and Eddie—but when we had the chance, we always acted like he belonged. Shirleen slid right in. I don’t know why Darius won’t let himself do that. And that’s just it. He won’t let himself.”

A gravelly voice came from our sides, answering my question. “He hasn’t atoned.”

Surprised, I looked up at Duke. And I was not only surprised at what he said, but that he was anywhere near me.

“Can I steal Ally?” he asked Jules.

Oh shit.

“Sure,” Jules answered, eyeing us both.

Duke curved his fingers around my bicep.

I looked at Jules and asked, “Can you just keep a professional eye on Darius? I’m trying to figure out a way to get in there and maybe you can help.”

“No problem,” she said on a smile. “Happy to.”

Duke let me get that in then led me away—far away from the happy, laughing, talking, boisterous crowd to its very edge by the fence gate.

When he stopped us, he took his hand from my arm.

I took a deep breath and looked up at him.