“Use it,” Layne ordered, still not understanding why Dev was discussing this with him.
“This hits, it puts him out there,” Dev replied.
“It won’t hit, he’ll back down,” Layne returned.
“Guy’s an asshole, boy, I get that you get that but I don’t think you get how much of an asshole he is. Thinks he’s untouchable.”
“He isn’t, no one is.”
“He calls your bluff, you got no choice but to put this out there. You put this out there, first, you make a fuckload of enemies and not the HOA, we’re talkin’ local power brokers here. Second, it’ll be a media circus.”
Layne now understood why Devin was hesitating.
“Roc’s clear of him, Dev,” Layne assured.
“It ain’t Rocky I’m worried about,” Devin returned and Layne shook his head.
“Got markers I can call,” Layne reminded him quietly. “Even if it gets hot and I get on power players’ radar, got markers I can call, markers with people who can trump anything he’s got and you know it.”
“Ain’t you I’m worried about either,” Dev replied.
Layne was losing patience and therefore asked, “We gonna play twenty questions?”
That was when Devin gave it to him. “Worried about Marissa Gibbons.”
“Who the fuck is that?” Layne asked.
“Rocky’s replacement,” Devin answered and Layne’s brows shot up.
“And I care about that bitch because…?” he prompted when Devin said no more.
Dev leaned toward Layne, put his elbows on his knees and his eyes got intense as his voice dropped low. “You care about that bitch because her Dad was a drug dealer, he pimped out her Mom until she bit it due to an overdose, Social Services cottoned on and Marissa went into foster care. Bounced around awhile, managed to get a high school degree, no idea how except a sheer miracle because she followed in Mom’s footsteps and fell in with the wrong crowd and when I say that, boy, I mean it was the wrong crowd. Saw with my own two eyes the results of her acting career. She wasn’t no star but she was good. Even I was convinced she was lovin’ every second of it when she took a huge fuckin’ cock so far down her throat it proved positive she has no gag reflex whatsoever.”
Layne felt his neck muscles contract.
“Porn?” he whispered.
“Three films, none of them starring roles, she did them under false names, different colored hair, carryin’ an extra twenty pounds, hadn’t yet had her boob job, was underage and looks it but no denyin’ it’s her.”
Layne grinned, not because Marissa Gibbons’s life clearly sucked but because he fucking loved it that Astley was fucking a porn star. No doubt he was still shit in bed but at least she’d have the skills to convince him he wasn’t
Devin watched him grin and shook his head, leaning even closer.
“She pulled herself outta that shit, Tanner. Don’t know how she did it, but she did. She’s goin’ to IUPUI, studyin’ to be a social worker. She’s turned her life around. This shit hits, no matter how big the names are around hers, she’s the face of it for…fuckin’…ever. History books, boy. Online encyclopedias, Goggle her name and she could cure world hunger but that’s the first thing you’d see. No more Pacemate, the squad will dump her. She’ll quit school. She’ll go back to what she knows. You tip Astley, you destroy her life. We both know it wasn’t a good choice for her to hook her star to his or how she did it but now we know why she did it. You want me to use it, I’ll use it. I’ll even use all of it which means he’ll set her out before he takes you on, whatever way that comes about. But he doesn’t bite, you go the distance, you take her down. She’s not a good woman because she’s had no role models but, even so, she’s tryin’ like hell to learn how to be one. You do this, you set her back in that task, I’m guessin’ irrevocably.” Devin sat back and finished, “That said, your call.”
Layne stared at Devin and made a decision.
“Lean on ‘em both,” he ordered.
Devin’s brows shot up. “What?”
“Go to her, tell her what you got on him and what you got on her. Porn past or not, she can do better. Fuck, anyone can do better,” Layne explained. “I’m guessin’ here but what they got is no love match so we’re doin’ her a favor. She leans on him one way, we lean on him the other. We partner up, coach her, play it right, he pays her off, settles with Rocky and they both get on with their lives with him not in it but his cash in their accounts.” Layne leaned forward and continued. “He still doesn’t play, you go one by one through the Republican Committee. I’ll lay money down that one of ‘em will buckle and I’ll lay more down on it bein’ the first one you talk to, especially seein’ as this isn’t blackmail, you’re sellin’ quiet cheap. They won’t have to dish out anything but a little pressure. Astley may think he’s untouchable from me, from Roc, but those boys can convince him a fuckuva lot different.”
Devin smiled and leaned back, saying, “Like the way you think, boy.”
Layne pushed up out of the armchair, replying, “You should, you taught me how to think.” He moved to the side of the couch, stopped and looked down at his friend. “Losin’ your touch, old man, you’da called that five years ago.”
“Lucky for me, I had the foresight to train my replacement before the dementia kicked in,” Devin shot back.
Layne bit back his smile and shook his head, muttering, “Goin’ to bed.”
“Don’t blame you,” Dev muttered back, his eyes moving to the TV.
Layne hesitated then asked, “Ma all right with Roc while I was gone?”
Devin didn’t look away from the TV. “Seein’ as both your boys threw down on Rocky’s side, then yeah.” He turned his head to Layne. “They’re good judges of character, like me.”
That didn’t sound good.