Rock Chick Revolution Page 142


“He made it through surgery,” the doctor told Dorothea, and I let out my breath. It caught again when he went on, “However, there was a great loss of blood and quite a bit of damage, including head trauma. He’s in critical care.”

I clenched my teeth when the doctor lifted a hand and curled it on Dorothea’s shoulder.

That was not a good sign.

His voice dropped quiet (another not good sign) when he went on.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Tucker. Although he survived surgery, we still have concerns. He’s not conscious, but it would be good if you didn’t delay visiting him.”

Definitely not a good sign.

I heard sobs (probably one of them Roxie; she cried all the time) and felt the vibe—already low—plummet, as everything leaked out at me and I collapsed into Ren’s side.

Dorothea nodded, her chin lifting to hold it together, her body stiff.

“Can I… can we…?” Malia started, her hand going out behind her toward Liam. She took two steps forward, her eyes on Dorothea. “Can Liam and I visit with him?”

Without delay, Dorothea raised her hand toward Malia.

Malia walked to her, took it and turned back to Liam. “Baby?”

Eyes never leaving his mother, probably knowing all eyes were on him, without hesitation, Liam moved to her.

A good kid.

Darius’s kid.

We all watched them follow the doctor.

For some reason I didn’t get and I didn’t try to process, I searched the room until I found Jane.

She was already looking at me.

She smiled and shook her head.

Even after this, she still believed in fairytales.

I wanted to believe.

Boy, did I want to believe.

But I had to admit, I was losing faith.

* * * * *

“Baby.”

My eyes fluttered.

“Ally, honey, wake up.”

I lifted my head from what, I noted from looking around, was Hank’s thigh. It had been some time, I’d finally cleaned Darius’s blood from my hands and I was curled up on the chairs of the hospital waiting room with Hank providing my pillow. Ren was crouched in front of me.

I shook sleep away, got up on a hand and focused on my man. “What?”

“Darius is awake, honey. And he’s asking for you.”

No longer even slightly sleepy, I surged to my feet.

Lee and Eddie were standing at the door. Lee stretched a hand to me. I hustled to him and took it. Quickly, both of them flanking me, me holding my brother’s hand, we moved into the hall and stopped at the elevator.

“Is there a change in his condition?” I asked, looking up at Lee.

He looked down at me. “No, honey. He’s just awake.”

“Isn’t that good?” I asked.

“No clue, Ally,” Lee answered, his hand tightening in mine.

I looked to Eddie.

He smiled at me, but I knew it was totally fake.

I knew this because there was no dimple.

The elevator doors opened and no one spoke as we rode up to the critical care unit. We were expelled into the hall and Lee guided me to where Dorothea, Shirleen, Malia and Liam were huddled with Indy and Jet.

Before I could say a word or take in the vibe, a nurse appeared and asked me, “Are you Ally?”

I nodded.

“Follow me,” she said.

She seemed to be in a hurry. I didn’t like that. Still, I followed her and did it quickly.

She instructed me to wash my hands. Impatiently, I did. Then she gave me a gown. More impatiently, I pulled it on.

Then she led me to Darius in his hospital bed.

His eyes were closed like he was sleeping. But other than that and all the tubes and shit sticking out of him, and of course the bandage wrapped around his head—not to mention, Darius didn’t wear hospital gowns (as in, ever, and I loved him but it was not a good look, on anybody)—he looked like just Darius.

I got close to his bed, bent down and grabbed his hand.

“Darius?” I called softly. “It’s Ally. I’m here.”

His eyes opened and he focused on me.

I forced a smile, but as much as I fought it, I felt it trembling.

“How you doin’, bro?” I asked.

It was then he spoke.

And he did it to rasp:

“Jesus, Ally. You’re a pain in my ass.”

* * * * *

Lee

Standing in the hall with Indy, Eddie, Jet and Darius’s family, Lee Nightingale’s body jerked and his head twisted around when he heard his sister burst out laughing.

Epilogue

Righteous

Six years later…

“She’s faking it,” I mumbled, doing so with my mouth barely moving.

“Shut it, Ally.” I heard Sniff’s voice coming from the bud in my ear.

“Totally faking it,” I kept at him, succeeding in not smiling, but doing this since I had lots of practice.

We were discussing Sniff’s love life. And teasing him about it.

Totally lots of practice.

Suffice it to say, Roam nor Sniff had found their Rock Chick equivalents.

But they’d been practicing for the time they made that discovery.

Copiously.

“Sniff’s convinced he gives good lovin’,” Roam put in.

“That’s ‘cause I do,” Sniff’s deep pissed-off voice clipped. “No complaints so far.”

“And that’s because they’re faking,” I said.

“Cut the chatter on the line,” Luke butted in, ending our fun.

I pressed my lips together in a further (successful) effort to fight my smile and did a scan of the club. I was in an LBD, strappy sandals and had big hair.

In other words, I was a honey trap who would, eventually, withhold the honey.

The skin at the back of my neck prickled when I saw him.

“Got eyes on him. He just entered,” I muttered, the microphone in my cle**age picking up my voice.

“Copy,” Lee came through. “Positions?”

“Check,” Roam said.

“Check,” Sniff said.

“Affirmative,” Luke said.

“Roger that,” Lee said. “Brody, got eyes?”

“Do I ever not have eyes?” Brody asked, offended.

“Appropriate responses are check, affirmative or negative,” Lee growled.

Years of this, my brother still found Brody annoying.

I, on the other hand, found him hilarious.

“Whatevs,” Brody replied. “Affirmative.”

“Roger that. Ally, you’re a go,” Lee told me.

“Copy. Out,” I told him.

Lifting a hand and pulling out the ear bud, I dropped it in my purse, clamped it shut and slid off the barstool, eyes on my target.

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