Rock Chick Revolution (Rock Chick #8)(140)
Author: Kristen Ashley

“Ally, let me get to him.”

I reached out and grabbed Darius’s hand. With effort pulling it to his chest and pressing in, I got even closer.

“You’re gonna be okay. The ambulance is coming.”

He kept staring at me.

I pushed in at his chest with our hands. “Talk to me.”

“You’re gonna be okay,” he repeated my words quietly.

For some reason, hearing his voice sent relief sweeping through me.

“Yeah. Yeah,” I nodded. “I’m gonna be okay.”

“They’re here,” he said, his voice weak.

Shit. Shit. Fuck.

“Yeah. They’re here.”

“So you’re gonna be okay.”

The hands on me grew urgent. “Ally, honey, let me in there.”

I ignored Lee and said to Darius, “Yeah.”

“’Cause they’re here,” Darius said to me.

I pressed harder to his wound as his blood flowed over my hand.

“No.” I shook my head. “Because you saved me.”

He held my eyes and lifted a hand to my face. “Yeah.”

I pressed my cheek into his hand and held his other one tight.

It was then, he closed his eyes and his lips curved in a smile I did not like.

“Finally,” he whispered. “Salvation.”

Then his hand fell away, landing at his side.

Lifeless.

After that, I threw my head back and screamed.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Pain in My Ass

The drug having worn off, my faculties back to mostly functioning, I sat in the hospital waiting room with the rest of the crew, Ren holding me close to his side with one arm, my hand held to his chest in his.

I had my head on his shoulder.

By the way, the hospital waiting room part of the Rock Chick Ride?

Not my favorite.

Ever.

And this one particularly.

They’d had a look at me when they brought me in. I was fine, still drugged, but I lost it when they tried to clean Darius’s blood off me.

I struggled, spat, clawed and no one could calm me. Not Ren, who tried first. Not Hank, who got in there with Ren. Not Indy, who Lee pulled Ren and Hank away so she could get in because he thought she would do it.

She couldn’t.

The person who did it was my mom.

And she did this by putting her hand on the nurse’s arm and saying, “She needs it. Let her keep it. We’ll see to her when the time is right for Ally.”

The nurse didn’t like it, but she moved away.

I stopped fighting.

So I still had his blood on me, there, in the waiting room.

Because Mom was right. I needed it. I needed some part of him with me.

I knew this sounded weird.

But I didn’t give a f**k.

Ren, being Ren, said nothing about the blood even though now it was on him.

And we were waiting.

All of us.

Indy and Lee. Eddie and Jet. Hank and Roxie. Jules and Vance. Ava and Luke. Stella and Mace. Hector and Sadie. Tex and Nancy. Marcus and Daisy. Roam and Sniff. Mom and Dad. Indy’s dad, Tom, and his girlfriend, Lana (incidentally, Lana was Mace’s Mom; so yeah, we were incestuous—whatever, it worked). Tod and Stevie. Buddy and Ralphie. Smithie and LaTeesha. Annette and Jason. Jules’s uncle Nick and her friend May. Jimmy Marker. Brody, Monty, Matt, Ike, Jack and Bobby. Blanca, Rosa, Carlos, Elena and Gloria. Dom and Sissy. Vito and Angela. Willie Moses. Brian Bond. Darius’s Mom, Dorothea. Duke’s wife Dolores. And even Stella’s band, Floyd, Buzz, Pong, Hugo and Leo showed up.

A motley crew of cops and crooks, bounty hunters and baristas, PIs and rock stars, hot guys and Rock Chicks.

Darius’s people.

Darius’s family.

And last, Shirleen was sitting beside me.

Close.

There was some shifting and my eyes flew to the door, hoping it was a doctor with good news. But I saw Jane walk in.

She’d been around, not much, and her usual quiet. I knew a couple of the Rock Chicks and Hot Bunch spoke with her. Since she didn’t return my calls or give me time when I approached her, and since (for once), I didn’t press, I didn’t know what they said or how she reacted.

All I knew right then was that she came straight to me, her eyes never leaving mine.

She stopped in front of us. Ren’s hold tightened, and I looked up to her.

“Nothing ever really bad happens in a fairytale, Ally,” she whispered, her eyes, locked on me, bright with tears.

And hope.

“I hope you’re right, chickie,” I whispered back.

“Me, too,” she said. Her eyes slid to Ren, then to Shirleen, who she gave a small smile before she moved away.

Ren’s hand gave mine a squeeze.

I gave his one back, let him go and shifted.

But not away. Only so I could reach out and find Shirleen’s hand.

When I did, hers closed tight.

I looked to Lee, who Indy was holding, her cheek to his chest, his chin to the top of her head, his eyes to the door, his jaw hard. My BFF, though, had her eyes on me.

She smiled.

It was fake, but I smiled back.

Then I looked to Eddie, who had Jet in what Jet called the Eddie’s Woman Hold. That was his arm wrapped around her neck, holding her tucked deep into his side.

His eyes were also on the door.

Jet’s cheek was to his shoulder and her eyes were on her husband’s profile.

I then looked again to the door when there was movement there. I pulled in breath and it caught when I saw who was walking through.

Not the doctor.

Duke.

And Duke was not alone.

Following him were Malia and Liam Clark.

Holy shit!

I sat up straight.

“What the f**k?” I heard Lee growl.

But my eyes were pinned to Malia, who was looking around, but doing it looking freaked way the f**k out, and Liam, sticking close to his mom, looking around and doing it looking cautious but confused.

Eddie broke from Jet, Lee from Indy. They headed her way and I moved.

“Ally,” Ren called, but I ignored him.

No one was going to stop me.

Fucking no one.

Lee caught me with a hand in my belly before I got to them, warning, “Not the time, Ally.”

But I ignored him, too.

Eyes to Malia, I moved them to Liam and lifted up my hand, covered in dried blood.

“That’s your father’s,” I announced, and Malia moved close to Liam as Liam’s eyes got huge and they riveted to my hand.

I heard a gasp and I suspected it was Dorothea’s.

Interesting.

Apparently Dorothea didn’t know about her grandson.

I didn’t have time to ponder that for a variety of reasons.