Rock Chick Revolution (Rock Chick #8)(114)
Author: Kristen Ashley

She came out of the room where they did the private dances looking freaked.

He came out looking the same as normal, strolling back to his table that the waitress had shooed three customers from and resuming his seat like he was king of all he surveyed.

And he was.

I just didn’t get why.

My cell in my hand vibrated. So its light wouldn’t illuminate my face and bring attention to me, I moved from my spot to the dancers’ hall and down to the end.

I had a text from Darius. It said Outside.

By the way, this was badass for Meet me outside, please.

Coming, I texted back then moved out the backdoor the bouncers used to take the dancers to their cars.

Darius was right there with a brick in his hand. He grabbed my hand, pulled me out, bent and put the brick on the ground by the jamb so the door didn’t close.

“It locks and I don’t want you goin’ back inside through the front,” he murmured as he again grabbed my hand and pulled me away from the door.

“What’s up?” I asked when we stopped.

“The motherfucker Roam clocked?” Darius asked back.

“Yeah,” I answered.

“Name’s Cyrus Gibbons. Got his own strip club in Lincoln closed down ‘cause he forced his girls to do lap dances that went the extra mile. Did six months.”

Shit.

Not.

Good.

“Don’t know his connection with Steiner,” Darius went on. “Do know he moved from Nebraska to Colorado about four months ago, which was when he got out. Not sure, though, if his PO received his change of address form.”

“PO” was “Probation Officer” and they tended to frown on ex-cons going over state lines.

I didn’t mention that to Darius since he already knew.

I noted, “Which is about a month before Steiner got the job here.”

“Which gave him plenty of time to assess the talent and decide on his mark,” Darius added. “Had a sit down with Brody. Lee already tore him off the book thing to do other jobs. Told him shit here was bad and he needed to find time to get on Steiner and Gibbons. He’ll have something tomorrow.”

“We need to know who else is involved,” I said. “But, just saying, the guy’s in the bar, lording over it like his name’s on the deed.”

“Copy that, also saw him go in,” Darius replied then told me, “Dude’s packin’.”

I stared at him a beat before asking, “He’s carrying concealed at a strip joint?”

Darius nodded.

“Fuck,” I whispered, then stated, “His waitress is scared shitless of him. And he got a lap dance from JoJo and she came out looking freaked.”

“Steiner makes the pickups, Gibbons provides the threat,” he deduced.

“But what’s the threat?” I asked. “Any of those girls knows they say one word to Smithie, he’ll sort this whole thing.”

Darius shook his head. “No clue. We need to be all over those guys. Told Shirleen I want Roam and Sniff off this shit. Bobby and I are gonna look into it.”

“Good,” I murmured. “Tell him to keep track of his hours and we’ll sort something through Daisy with Smithie.”

“Got it,” Darius replied and his eyes grew intent. I was doing my all not to react to what I’d learned about him that day and keep my mouth shut about it until I could figure out what I was going to do when he said, “Guy’s got a weapon, you be smart in there.”

I nodded. “Always.”

“I’m eyes out here. Don’t like you in there without backup, but if one of the boys shows, they’ll wonder why they’re there when their boss’s sister is strippin’.”

“Ren’s coming later,” I told him and grinned. “And then there’s me.”

Darius looked relieved, but I would find it was not about the me taking care of me part. “This guy’s even a little clued into the players in Denver, he’ll have heard of Zano. If he knows you’re his woman, he’ll be smart.”

Shit.

“That might mean he knows about me,” I remarked.

“He’s gotta be pretty clued in to the game here to know you, Ally. You do good, and one of the ways you do good is you keep your head down. Your jobs have got around, but to players like Lee, not guys like him.”

“My apartment just exploded, Darius,” I reminded him. “That kind of thing gets a lot of attention. And my brother is a cop, the other one a PI.”

“Hold your cover and ride it, Ally. Bobby’s on board, Brody doin’ his gig, it’ll be done soon.”

That I could believe.

I nodded. “Gotta get back in there. Tell Bobby thanks from me.”

“Will do,” he murmured, moving to the door.

After he grabbed the brick and was holding it open for me, I looked him in the eyes. “Thank you too, honey.”

“Jeez, got yourself a man, you’re gettin’ soft.”

My back went straight. “Am not.”

“Gushy.”

“I’m just expressing gratitude,” I pointed out.

“Expressed. Now get your ass in there so no one wonders where the f**k you are,” he returned.

“Bossy badass,” I muttered, moving through the door.

“Ally?” he called and I turned back. “You’re bein’ a soft, gushy chick. But you’re also welcome.”

I watched him grin huge.

Then I watched the door close.

And then I thought about how Liam Edward Clark was missing out.

Huge.

I shook off this thought and went to the dancers’ dressing room. I bided my time, shooting the shit with Lottie until the opportunity came about five minutes before I went on again. I gave Lottie a look, she took off mumbling about needing the bathroom and I moved to JoJo, who’d come in for a break and stripper makeup refresh (a hefty undertaking, trust me).

I moved to her, and without a lot of time before I was due onstage, I had to get my message across and fast.

So I stood behind her and looked in her eyes in the mirror. “Hey.”

“Hey, Ally,” she replied on a smile that wasn’t quite real. But she tried, I could see. “You’re killing. After that big thing last night, the girls and me watched your next dance. You rock.”

“Thanks, babe,” I replied.

“You gotta show me how to do that pole flip,” she said.

“How’s tomorrow before shift change?” I asked.