His eyes fell to my mouth then his lips fell there, and we made out some more in Essence’s foyer.
All too soon, he broke it off, touched his lips to my cheekbone, gave me a squeeze and let me go.
After that, he took off.
I stared at the closed door, grinning like an idiot.
Then I went to the parlor to get Roscoe.
I had dinner with the little sister ahead of me and dark under my eyes.
Once I sent my notes, it was naptime.
Rush
Two hours later, Rush stood in the September sun next to Hop outside his mother’s work in Boulder and put the phone to his ear.
It rang.
It went to voicemail.
He disconnected.
Hit her contact again.
It rang.
Went to voicemail.
He made a noise in his throat, disconnected, and hit her contact again.
It went to voicemail two more times before she picked up, snapping, “What?”
“Mom, it’s Rush.”
“I know.”
That was when he stood in the September sun, taking in a deep breath, knowing she knew it was him calling after years of not speaking to him, not seeing him, and she answered the phone like that.
His father was the best father a man could have. Rush loved him. Respected him. They disagreed, and they disagreed about important shit. But Rush admired his dad, and he had no problem at all with people telling him he looked like his father, and also acted like him.
The one thing his dad gave him that wasn’t the greatest was his explosive temper.
After Tack got Tyra, he learned to put a clamp on that.
At least with Tyra.
But that hold leaked out into life.
Rush had seen that. Learned from it.
It didn’t mean, for them both, that disposition didn’t run latent, and with the right stimulus it could be unleashed.
So he took the time he needed to lock it down before he again spoke.
“I’m outside your work,” he told Naomi. “You’re not here.”
“You’re right. I’m not there,” she agreed nastily. “You call me for the first time in, oh, I don’t know, about a fuckin’ decade to tell me somethin’ I know?”
The phone worked both ways.
He did not share that.
“Mom, left you two messages. I know Dad tried to get hold of you so you know what’s goin’ down. I’m here to take you to Denver.”
“Well, I’m not goin’ to Denver so you wasted the gas.”
“Mom—”
“Piss off, Rush.”
Rush stood still.
Not unusually for his mother, she started ranting.
“God, you’re so much like your father. Think you’re some kinda white knight in an MC cut. Well let me tell you, man, you are not. You’re an outlaw, born and bred. Newsflash, Rush, a law-abiding citizen doesn’t kick the shit outta some dealer who’s invading his patch,” she spat that last word like she hated the taste. “That’s still a crime and the type of crime that is, is spelled like felony.”
Rush had to force himself to speak.
“I’m not calling to debate what the brothers do. I’m calling to find out where you are because women are getting dead and I don’t want you to be one of them.”
“Yeah. I heard. And in case you twisted that shit in your brain to think it’s something else, let me tell you, it’s not. That’s on your father. All this shit is on your father. That psycho Valenzuela’s dead snatch. Reb biting it. Natalie in a body bag. Chew run amuck. He did that. The almighty Tack created that. It’s all on him. Like Black getting dead was on him. Like Crank biting it in the most hostile kinda takeover you can get is on him.”
“None of that shit’s on Dad,” he growled.
“Swallowed the blue pill, did you, Rush?” she taunted.
He had to keep it together.
“This is not getting you safe and I’m here to make sure you’re safe, Mom.”
“You don’t give a fuck about me, man. Don’t try to feed me that shit. You’re here because you’re your father’s dog and he said go, and you panted all the way down here, hopin’ to get your treat.”
Rush stopped staring blankly at the street in order to drop his head and stare blankly at his boots, focusing on breathing in.
Deep.
But his mother wasn’t done injecting her venom.
“So, let me tell you where I’m at with this, Rush. I don’t give a fuck shit’s layin’ heavy on Chaos. You want the truth, I hope they all get their throats slit. Bleed Chaos all