Hold On

“Holy crap, what’d Merry do to her?” Feb asked as we got close.

“Nothin’. I just called givin’ her away at her wedding,” Colt declared.

I wheezed.

Feb grinned.

Then she put in her two cents. “I think Ethan should do it.” She looked to her husband. “Merry’ll want you to stand up with him anyway, babe.”

Ethan giving me away.

How perfect would that be?

“Are you serious?” Ryan snapped. “Shit, how long you been seein’ Merrick?”

“My count, officially, they been together just over a week,” Colt shared helpfully.

“Are you serious?” Ryan repeated on another snap, his eyes aimed at me getting squinty. “A week? And you’re getting married? The dude’s a good guy, but are you crazy?”

I pulled my shit together and snapped back, “We’re not getting married. Colt’s just bein’ an asshole.”

Ryan looked somewhat relieved but mostly confused.

I felt Colt gearing up to say something else, so I pulled out of his hold and ordered, “Everyone, shut up about Merry.”

Colt didn’t shut up about Merry.

He declared, “I’m beginning to see how this whole Merry and Cher thing is gonna be fun.”

I shot him a look.

He burst out laughing.

I rolled my eyes.

Luckily, everyone else shut up about Merry.

And I finally got to work.

*

Garrett

Garrett stood, leaning back against the front of his truck, his eyes to the door of the bar, his phone his ear, wishing he had a goddamned cigarette.

Since he’d quit, he didn’t.

The bar wasn’t J&J’s. It was a bar in Clermont where Ryker liked to do business.

But he knew Ryker wasn’t there because he’d done a walkthrough of the inside and didn’t spot him. He’d also asked the bartender, who wouldn’t say shit on a normal occasion, but she said he hadn’t been around all day and Garrett believed her. And the biggest clue, his Harley wasn’t outside the bar.

Ryker was hardcore. Even in winter, if the roads were clear, the forecast was good, and Ryker had to go somewhere, he was ass to his bike.

Right then, no bike.

That meant no Ryker.

With not a small amount of annoyance, he listened to his phone ring.

It was late. Not too late, but late.

Still, Tanner would be up.

“Yo, brother,” he answered.

“Yo,” Garrett returned. “Need a few minutes.”

“You got ’em.”

“You know where Ryker is now?” Garrett asked.

“Nope,” Tanner answered.

“You two workin’ any jobs together?”

“Yep.”

Garrett drew in a breath and then asked the question he needed answered right or he’d be going apeshit on his brother-in-law.

“One of those jobs gotta do with a man called Jaden Cutler?”

“Nope. Never heard of him.”

Garrett relaxed. Slightly.

Jaden Cutler was Cher’s neighbor.

Then he asked about the owner of the GT. “How about Robert Paxton?”

“Never heard of him either.”

Good.

“Been lookin’ for Ryker for a coupla hours, big man,” Garrett told Tanner. “Called him twice. He’s not pickin’ up. He’s not at any of his known hangouts. Got any advice on where I can find him or what he might be doin’?”

“You wanna tell me why you’re lookin’ for him?” Tanner asked.

That was when Garrett gave him what he knew from what he’d run that day at the station about Cher’s neighbor and his bud in the GT, some of which Cher had confirmed that night.

“Jaden Cutler’s got a rap sheet about fifteen pages long. Assault. Theft. Possession with intent. His known associates read like a who’s who of the scum of Hendricks and Marion counties, but he’s new to the ’burg. He’s done community service. He’s also done six months for a B and E. Got off on a technicality on another arrest when an IMPD officer accidentally contaminated some evidence. Got off on yet another charge when a witness recanted their testimony. And he’s now livin’ two doors down from Cher and Ethan.”