“I… what…” I stammered, then pulled myself out of my shock and got it together. “What the hell?”
“I don’t know. My mind doesn’t work like that. What I do know is while I’ve been thinkin’ on this and whether or not to tell you, I didn’t think on whether or not to give Darius the heads up. So I did. And you might be pissed, but he’s at your back often so he needs to keep an eye out. I left it up to him, and now you, if you share with your brothers. But my vote, you do, and someone, I don’t give a fuck who, closes that guy down.”
This grossed me out, but still.
“I’m not sure it’s illegal to take pictures of someone, Ren.”
“The way he’s doin’ it?” he asked, but didn’t want an answer mostly because he already had one. “Fuck yeah it is. You need a restraining order. Which won’t do jack. So that means he gets a message. And I’d like it to be me that gives it to him. But if Darius, one of your brothers or one of his men get there before me, I won’t argue.”
This did not make me feel warm and fuzzy.
“It was that bad?” I asked quietly.
“Thousands of pictures, Ally,” he answered, not quietly.
Whoa.
He wasn’t being broody about my job that night.
He was being broody because I had a sicko taking photos of me.
“Do we have a picture of him so I know who I’m looking for and they will, too?” I asked.
“Darius says he’s got Brody on that. DMV. Whatever. Brody will find somethin’ and he’ll give it to me.”
I nodded.
“You watch your back. You also drive to work tonight with me.”
Oh man.
“Ren—”
“Do not fight this, Ally,” he cut me off. “It’ll get ugly, I assure you, baby, and you won’t win. I got a man fixated on my woman and you gotta let me do what I have to do. You with me?”
I thought on it, but not long enough for the Italian Hothead to wake up and decide he needed to make his point.
Then I said, “I’m with you, honey.”
He took in a deep breath and let it go.
Relief.
“Though, I’ll say, I miss our fighting,” I continued.
His chin jerked back and his brows went up before he asked, “Have you lost your mind?”
“No. Without fights there’s no angry sex.”
That got him
His lips quirked. He put down his wineglass and picked up his fork as he asked, “Am I fallin’ down on that part of the job, babe?”
“I will point out, we haven’t had sex today,” I shared, also digging back into my linguini.
I was lifting a load to my mouth when I felt his eyes on me. So I gave him mine.
“The day isn’t done,” he replied.
I grinned.
Then I quit grinning so I could shove delicious linguini and shrimp into my mouth.
*
“I get him, you get off stage. You get the girls in the dressing room and keep them there. You keep the dressing room door closed and locked. Lenny’s gonna be outside. You keep your phone in your hand and you hear something you don’t like, you call 911. And you keep the girls calm.”
I was giving the instructions Lee gave to me by text to Lottie.
I was about to go on. And Lottie was going on with me.
Double the viewing entertainment, double the distraction from what would be going on in the club.
I’d briefed her and Lottie knew what was happening.
All of it.
And she was all in.
I got closer and said quietly, “This ends for them tonight. But our jobs aren’t done tonight.”
She nodded.
“He get them all?” I asked something I didn’t want to know but, alas, needed to know.
She nodded again but said, “He’s partial to JoJo. Sometimes he has a taste for Meena. But he’s tried them all.”
I lifted my hands to the sides of her head and pulled her to me so our foreheads were touching. “We’ll see to them.”
She nodded but said, “Smithie’s gonna unravel.”
Smithie knew nothing about this. This was because Smithie would first commit murder.
Then he’d unravel.
“We’ll see to him, too,” I promised.
She nodded again.
“You do that onstage, I’ll give you both fifty bucks as a bonus and I’ll name my next fuckin’ kid after you,” Smithie said as he approached.
Lottie and I broke apart and looked his way.
“We’re already dancing a double,” I reminded him.
“Yeah. I know. This is why you’re in my fuckin’ will,” Smithie replied as the music silenced and the girls ran off the stage.
I drew in a deep breath and grabbed Lottie’s hand.
Smithie went onstage and walked across it to get the microphone.
“Remember,” I said, staring through the crack in the curtain. “When I get him, you get the girls.”
“I remember,” Lottie replied on a hand squeeze. “And if, when you get his gun, you accidentally squeeze off a round, I’m your witness that it was accidentally.”
Great minds think alike.
“So put your hands together, motherfuckers!” Smithie was concluding his introduction. “’Cause the Rock Chick and Lottie Mac are teamin’ up, and it’s gonna blow your motherfucking minds!”
It certainly would.
In a lot of ways.