Golden Trail

Layne stopped Rocky and dug into his pocket for the keys.

He handed them to her and ordered, “Open it up and climb in, honey. You’re cold, turn her on. Yeah? I’ll be right back.” Her eyes shot up to him and she opened her mouth to speak but he got there before she did. “Not now, sweetcheeks. That’s Ryker on the bike. Just get in the truck.”

She looked over her shoulder at Ryker, back at him, nodded and then again got on her toes to give him a mouth touch before she swiftly walked to the SUV.

Layne walked to the bike.

He stopped at Ryker’s side noticing Ryker’s eyes had followed Rocky and not Layne.

“Eyes on me,” Layne demanded, keeping his voice as low as he could and still be heard over the pipes and Ryker looked at him.

“That your woman?” he asked.

“Yep,” Layne answered.

“Jesus, sport, traded up, didn’t you?” His eyes slid back to Layne’s truck before they came again to Layne. “Way up.”

Layne didn’t have time for this. Rocky was feeling affectionate and her guard was down. He had other, better things to do.

“You got somethin’ for me?” Layne prompted.

“Jumped the fence,” Ryker stated, talking at the same time studying Layne. “Didn’t hesitate, he clipped his boy and you were over the fence. Saw your face as you sprinted up to that mess, thought you were gonna lay that motherfucker out.” He gave Layne a head-to-toe to head again and went on. “That look on your face, sport, figure I underestimated you.”

“Did you call me over to flatter me, Ryker? ‘Cause, as you can see, I got another date and she’s prettier than you,” Layne told him and Ryker grinned.

“In a hurry?” Ryker asked, Layne didn’t respond so Ryker’s grin got bigger and uglier. “I’d be in a hurry, that piece was in my truck waitin’ on me to take her home.”

Layne turned to leave, muttering, “A waste of my fuckin’ time.”

“Sport,” Ryker called, Layne looked at him and Ryker went on. “Action. Stew. Tonight.”

Fuck. That was what Layne was worried he’d say.

“When?”

“Meet me at the bar at eleven o’clock.”

Shit. That would give him just enough time to drop Rocky off, grab his camera and get to the bar and he’d still be late.

“Just tell me when and where. I’ll take care of it.”

“Comin’ with,” Ryker stated.

“No, you aren’t. I work alone.”

“This ain’t a one man deal.”

“Since when?”

“Since Stew’s workin’ with a crew tonight, bro, and, you get tagged, you’ll need backup. Colt can’t back you on this without makin’ a lotta arrests and where’s that gonna get your ex?”

Fuck! This was not getting any better.

“I can take care of myself,” Layne told Ryker.

“’Spect you can, but I know this crew, the smarter move would be to go in with backup.” Layne knew he was right, in any uncertain situation it was smarter to go in with backup. That didn’t mean he wanted Ryker to be that backup. “You got a permit to carry concealed or you don’t, don’t give a fuck, you come carryin’, yeah?” Ryker continued.

“I can see you’re eager to pop someone’s cherry, Ryker, so I hate to tell you this isn’t my first time.”

Ryker grinned again. “Bummed bro.”

“Can you explain why you’re all of a sudden my BFF?” Layne asked, not about to walk into the bar he met Ryker in at eleven o’clock at night to meet Ryker, a guy he did not know, he did not trust and he wasn’t sure he liked.

“Thought you were gonna lay that motherfucker out,” was Ryker’s explanation.

Layne didn’t feel that was enough of an explanation so he prompted, “And?”

“And that motherfucker thought you were gonna lay him out too.”

Layne crossed his arms on his chest and repeated, “And?”

Ryker watched him a full five beats then leaned in. “And I know, by that look on your face, you didn’t have two bleachers full of people, kids on two football teams, coaches, refs and your woman lookin’ on, you woulda laid that motherfucker out, no hesitation, no holdin’ back. That guy would be breathin’ through a tube just about now. Am I right?”

He was right.

Layne stayed silent.

“Not even your kid this time,” Ryker went on.

Layne remained silent.

“You got control and you understand my vision of justice,” he leaned back and smiled his ugly smile, “my kind of partner.”

“Great,” Layne muttered and Ryker added an ugly laugh to his ugly smile.

Then he said, “Eleven,” and shot off on his bike.

Layne watched him go before he whispered, “Fuck.”





Chapter Fourteen


Scared of the Dark





Layne let Rocky into the house and Blondie assaulted them both at the same time.

Rocky took control and forced the dog into the kitchen with her hands and legs, giving Blondie scratches behind the ears as she did it.

Layne saw a note on the island and didn’t pick it up to read it seeing as the big black scrawl could be read from across a room.

“Out,” was all Devin had written.

Layne smiled at the note as he moved to the sliding glass door, disarmed the alarm which was always set for doors and windows since the dog would trip it if they used the sensors in the house. He pulled out the steel rod at the door and slid it open. Blondie immediately lost interest in Rocky and raced out the door.

“Tell me again why, when you’re working, I shouldn’t just sleep at home?” Layne heard Rocky ask, Layne slid the door to and turned to her.

They’d had this conversation in the car. He thought he’d convinced her. Clearly, Rocky remained unconvinced.

“Because enough people in town saw what went down tonight which means that most the rest of the town will hear about it before sun up tomorrow. After that shit went down with me and Jasper involved, they’d expect my woman to show her support, not sleep in her own bed,” Layne reiterated the point he’d made on the way home.

Again, he knew this was lame.

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