We were going back next week, but not for me to go back to the warehouse. For me to run the defensive/evasive driving course before the weather turned iffy seeing as it was September (or, as it went in Denver, since the weather was always iffy, iffier).

But I was there, outside the Balducci’s pool hall, with my gun because last night, Ricky Balducci raped Sadie.

No, that wasn’t right. He’d beat the shit out of her and then he raped her.

And I’d been mean to her.

I didn’t know she was Hector’s. I thought they’d be sworn enemies seeing as Hector was the undercover DEA agent who brought down Sadie’s drug lord father (suffice to say, trouble—this time crazy, serious, heartbreaking trouble—had hit a Rock Chick).

I learned that morning she was not only his, but also that the reason I’d been mean to her—that she’d done something nasty to Daisy at a society party—did not happen.

Daisy was beside herself with fury and sadness. The first, because Marcus knew Sadie never talked trash about Daisy and he didn’t tell her, for reasons I got but were now very distressing. The second because Daisy had liked Sadie before she thought she talked trash about her. They were friends. Daisy cut her out and now her friend had gotten raped.

And I’d been a bitch. A bitch to a petite, scared woman who looked like a fairy princess and came to my brother yesterday to get his protection.

I’d been a bitch.

God.

I closed my eyes tight. My hand fisting, everything in me beating back the desire to grab my purse with my gun, waltz into that pool hall and pistol whip Ricky Balducci, an ass**le who’d beat the shit out of a fairy princess and violated her, to within an inch of his life

I fought back that urge and when I opened my eyes, automatically, I scanned my mirrors.

That was when I saw the h*ps in suit trousers approaching my car.

My body stilled.

I knew those hips.

I loved those hips.

I missed those hips.

I swallowed.

Those h*ps approached the passenger side and Ren’s handsome face appeared in the window.

His eyes locked on mine and I stopped breathing.

He lifted his hand and tapped a knuckle on the window.

I sucked in needed breath, hit the locks then reached out and grabbed my purse, clearing it from the seat seconds before Ren’s fine ass settled in it.

He slammed his door and turned to me.

“Hey,” he said softly.

“Hey,” I replied, but my voice sounded croaky so I cleared my throat.

“How you doin’?” he asked, still gentle.

“Good,” I lied in answer. I was not good, not with him in my car looking beautiful and being sweet. Not with me being a bitch to a girl who’d been raped. Not simply knowing someone who’d been raped. “You?” I asked.

He looked at me, his eyes traveling down my torso before his head turned to look at the pool hall.

He came back to me. “Been better.”

He knew Sadie. He also knew what happened to Sadie.

This was not a surprise. Marcus, Vito, and Sadie’s now incarcerated dad, Seth Townsend, all occupied the upper echelons of Denver’s criminal underworld. It would make sense they and their families would hobnob.

“Can I ask what you’re doin’ here, honey?” Ren requested.

I held his eyes and whispered, “You know.”

He studied me a moment before nodding. He knew.

Then he said, “Let me deal with it.”

On one hand, I liked this idea. I’d seen Ren in action against Luke. On the badass scale, Luke blew the lid off, totally redefining the scale. And Ren not only held his own against Luke, he matched him. It was a fair fight that didn’t go long enough to declare a clear winner. Seeing this, I knew Ren could undoubtedly f**k Ricky Balducci up big time. Because if he could go mano a mano against Luke, he could kick anyone’s ass.

And if he did, I wanted to watch.

On the other hand, I’d been a bitch to Sadie, a girl who was Hector’s, which meant she was a Rock Chick (though she didn’t know it yet), which meant she was going to be family. And I’d done it the day of the night she got raped.

I needed to make amends.

“Zano, I—”

“Let me deal with it, Ally.”

“What are you gonna do?” I asked, and his anger hit the car, stifling me, just as his eyes flashed with a light that even I found scary.

Right.

There you go.

Ren was going to deal with it.

“Don’t hesitate to make a mess,” I invited, giving in, and I actually felt him relax as the heavy air shifted out of my Mustang.

“Dry cleaning blood out of suits costs a f**kin’ whack,” he replied.

Yikes!

I was absolutely not going to go there.

“Take care of yourself, honey,” he said quietly, ending our conversation, ending our time together, reminding me he’d ended us and that I was the reason there was no us.

In other words, major ouch.

I powered through the hurt and nodded. “You too, Ren.”

He continued to hold my eyes, and long moments passed. Those moments feeling like he was waiting for me to say something, do something.

I did neither.

Then he turned, opened the door and angled out.

I watched him saunter to the pool hall and kept watching, even after he disappeared through the door.

I did this with a knot in my stomach, something stuck in my throat.

Then I pulled my shit together. Something I’d had to do a lot since Ren entered my life, and more after he exited it.

I decided I’d find another way to make amends to Sadie, though I didn’t know how I’d do that.

I just knew I would.

I turned the ignition, put my car into gear and drove away.

* * * * *

One month, one and a half weeks later…

I was at Sadie’s art opening at her gallery, but a more apt way to put it was that I was in hell.

This was because Ren was there and he was with another woman.

This was also because he was avoiding me.

This was not surprising. We were done and he was with another woman. I got a look, a chin lift and that was it.

It was the classy thing to do, not ignoring me, not getting in my space and being sweet or cool, and thus reminding me we were over and all I was missing.

Still, it hurt.

But this was mostly because, even avoiding him, that didn’t mean my eyes, against my strong directive, kept moving to him.