And anyway, if I ran regularly, that meant I could drink more Fat Tire and eat more LaMar’s donuts.
So I decided to focus on that.
“You got it,” I agreed.
He nodded once and kept going.
“From here on out, you start anything, you gotta be invisible.”
“I already do that,” I told him, but he shook his head.
“Not what you’re thinkin’. I mean you go to Brody. He makes a mint off that game he programmed, but he gets off on this sleuth stuff. Lee pays him a whack, but that guy would come to work every day for free, he’s so into this shit. You give him more, he’ll be all over it. You can solve your problem with an electronic investigation that doesn’t put your ass on the line, you do that.” He paused. “First.”
This made sense and would likely only cost me energy drinks, Costco boxes of king-size candy bars and Apple app gift cards all of which I could make my “clients” procure for Brody. Since all that was doable, I nodded my agreement.
Darius kept talking.
“And from here on in, I’m briefed in full about everything you do. I know all your cases. I know what you uncover. And you do not,” he leaned in, “ever walk your ass into a place like this without me as your wingman. This last is the most important, Ally, and if you’re not down with that, you lose all the rest. You also buy me goin’ to Lee and lighting a fire under his ass to take you off Denver’s game board in a way no one will ever contact you again for this shit.”
Lee could do that.
And Darius would do that. He cared a lot about me.
And if either of them did that, it would piss me off.
But I didn’t need to expend that energy, seeing as I had absolutely no problem with him being my wingman.
In fact, I had absolutely no problem with any of it (save the running, but I figured I could rock a track suit and I could get some of those kickass double hair band thingies to pull my hair away from my face while I ran and be totally stylin’).
In order to communicate this to Darius, it was my turn to lean into him.
And when I did, I whispered, “You know, I totally love you.”
Something moved over his face. Something I’d seen before when he didn’t know I was watching.
Uncertainty mixed with melancholy. I didn’t totally get it. What I did get was that Darius Tucker had had a beautiful life a long time ago. A big loving family, good friends, a bright future. And all that went to shit. He made desperate—and it had to be said, angry—decisions, and his life spiraled down the toilet. In that time, I suspected he did a lot of things that seared marks onto his soul.
I just didn’t know if he was on a path to redemption or thought his future only held damnation.
That was his to know and share if he felt like it.
As for me, I’d learned over and over again, since Rosie dragged Indy into his mess (thus starting the Rock Chick Rollercoaster), good people did bad things and bad people did good things.
I just trusted God would sort it out as it needed to be.
When Darius said nothing, I assured him, “You don’t have to say it back. I know where you are. And if I didn’t, you coming here tonight and doing what you’ve done would have told me.”
To this, Darius said, “You’re a pain in the ass.”
He so totally loved me.
“Good,” I replied on a smile. “That’s what I strive to be.”
“Woman, trust me. You’re succeeding beyond your wildest dreams.”
My smile got bigger.
He took it in, shook his head, then looked back in my eyes.