Rock Chick Rematch Read Online Kristen Ashley

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, Contemporary, Novella Tags Authors: Kristen Ashley Advertisement1

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“He’s not in that business anymore, and it’s no longer a secret,” I said.

“Tony isn’t into any of this shit, but you know he’s got friends who are. And I don’t have to ask his input to tell you, beefs like that do not just disappear because you found the righteous path,” Toni shot back.

“Well…shit!” I swore, because damn it, I did not need to be trying to figure things out with my man and for my family and have to keep something this huge from the man part of that.

“Maybe you can talk him out of whacking Michael,” Toni suggested.

I gave her big eyes.

Did she miss the last fourteen years of our lives where he knocked himself out and scored his own soul to keep his woman and kid safe?

“Or, just tell Lee or Eddie,” Lena put in. “They’ll handle it,” she snapped her fingers, “no sweat.”

I slouched further in my chair.

“Sis, one thing at a time,” Toni advised. “Go see him. Talk to him. Tell us a day, and make that day soon, so your chickenshit ass doesn’t chicken out, and we’ll see to Liam.”

I sighed.

Then I sucked back my entire drink.

After that, I gagged.

Once I was done gagging, I ate both olives off my toothpick.

Then I got up to pour myself another martini.

When I was done with that, and speared two more olives from the bowl I’d thankfully made handy, I looked between my two sisters.

Then, before my chickenshit ass could chicken out, I said, “Wednesday.”

Toni’s smile was slow.

But Lena’s was fast and bright.

Chapter Twelve

Wine Cellar

I sat in my car, staring at Darius’s house, thinking what a nice house it was.

It was a mid-century square with a long overhang that went out so far, it shielded the steps up to a front door that was set off to the side.

That had to be handy during a snowstorm.

The front door was painted a bright red, but it was mostly windows and had two panels of glass on either side. All of this was set into a white frame, but the rest of the house was two-toned brick, red on the bottom, some sandy colored brick at the top, with a thick red brick line close to the roof.

It had an old bungalow to one side of it and a classic Denver square to the other.

There was something very him about it. The fact it was unusual, made a statement, but managed to do this in an understated way.

And there was something very not him about it. The fact it was established and had a big tree out front that was probably older than the house, a house which had undoubtedly been built in the late 50s or early 60s.

I’d never allowed myself to think how, or where, Darius lived without us.

And this realization was so uncomfortable, it was painful.

I wondered, in all that I wanted from him, if I ever really thought about him at all.

So yes.

This meant, even though I knew Liam was hanging with Tony and Kenneth at T&T’s house playing video games while Toni and Lena kept an eye and made sure Liam didn’t get in his brand-new Charger and head home (no, his father didn’t mess around, I got a text with a picture of his new wheels on day one back at his dad’s).

I was wearing a new dress, which was not conducive to our current fall weather, seeing as it was bright pinks and oranges with mustard yellow and greens all in a flower and leaf motif, an orange leopard head with yellow spots here and there. It had a smocked waistband that went from below my breasts to upper hips, long, puff sleeves, and a barely-there frill of a skirt that showed off nearly all of my legs.

I wore this with green strappy high-heeled sandals that Lena let me borrow and some big, real gold hoop earrings that Toni loaned me.

It was an outfit to wear at a resort in the Caribbean, not during the mission I was currently on.

What was I thinking?

I couldn’t go home and change now, as much as I wanted to use that as an excuse to get my behind out of there.

I had to do this.

I again let my eyes sweep Darius’s cool house.

There was a light shining out of the long bank of the windows just off the front door.

So he was probably home.

I should check, though, before I knocked on the door.

Right?

The issue with checking was that it looked like a three-story house, except the first floor was kind of built into the earth, the second was a little elevated, and the third was super high.

This was smart, if you didn’t want people walking by and looking in the windows.

My heels were high too, but it wasn’t like the windows the light was shining out of were normal height and I could just walk up to them and peek in, even in my heels.


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