“Ah,” Gabe replied.
“And Raye’s on a tear to make everything all right for everybody, and you know what that means.”
“Yeah, it was me who dropped you off at your pimped-out headquarters yesterday. I know what it means.”
Hmm.
Moving on.
“Has Liam ever mentioned anything about Shanti?”
He assumed the universal male I’m-not-gonna-lay-my-brother-out-there expression.
“He’s not into her,” I whispered, my eyes roving over his expression.
“He thinks she’s gorgeous and has it going on.”
My heart took flight.
“And his mom is a Rock Chick, and he has no intention of following in his dad’s footsteps,” he continued.
My lips turned down.
“Baby, I know his parents’ story. It’s some intense shit. I get where he’s coming from,” he finished.
Since Shanti had a type, and both of those men were her type, including their race, I asked, “What about Roam?”
“Roam’s a long story too.”
“I know about his story. He was adopted with Cap by Shirleen. They were both on the street before that.”
“Did you know he took a bullet for one of the other Rock Chicks? Jules? And she took two for him and nearly died doin’ it.”
I wasn’t sure, in all the terrifying information that filtered down about all of that, if I remembered that part.
But that seemed more terrifying than all the rest, so I figured I’d remember it if I’d heard it.
Or I didn’t remember because I blocked it out.
I made a face at Gabe.
Gabe concluded that one too with, “He’s got some shit to work out.”
Okay.
Well, that was that I guessed.
Bluh.
Time to move on.
And this wasn’t any better.
Indeed, it was a lot worse.
But after that afternoon, it had to be done.
“His name was Christian Darvill,” I whispered.
