Hold On

“Merry, brother,” Tanner put in calmingly, and Garrett could hear him straightening from his chair, but he didn’t take his eyes off Ryker. “You give this a second, you’ll see this is the amusing part.”


Garrett didn’t give it a second.

“You lied to Cher in order to freak her out,” he stated.

“Dude, heard you saw to this, but in case you didn’t get it through to her, your bitch needs to learn to share. No way I’d be down with Lissa keepin’ somethin’ like that from me, even if I’d lose my motherfuckin’ mind, I knew what it was. There’s a firmer foundation in a relationship if there’s open communication,” Ryker advised.

“You are sittin’ right there, giving me relationship advice.” With his remark, Garrett’s voice was not just low, it was vibrating.

Ryker’s brows went up. “You get laid last night?”

Garrett stared at him.

“This morning?” Ryker pushed.

He felt Mike close to his side.

“Yeah,” Ryker muttered, grinning a lunatic grin, eyes locked to Garrett. “I woulda bet with her dry spell, Cher likes it like that. Catchin’ up.”

In a blink, Garrett had shoved Mike off and was leaning over Ryker, who he had pressed to the top of Tanner’s desk, Garrett’s fist in his tank, both of Ryker’s hands wrapped around Garrett’s wrist.

“Stand down, Merry,” Mike warned.

“You played head games with my woman?” Garrett whispered.

“Dude, get off me,” Ryker whispered back.

“You played…head games…with my woman,” Garrett growled.

“Brother, calm down,” Tanner ordered.

“Lissa likes you both,” Ryker told him. “She wanted you happy. She wanted you happy with each other. And I want my woman happy. So I did what I did to make her happy and you and your woman got what you deserved outta that. Now, with all that, what the fuck’s your problem?”

“Did you tell that guy to hit on her?” Garrett asked.

“Fuck yeah,” Ryker answered. “Hello?” he called sarcastically. “You were taking too long. Fuck, after you nailed her the first time, it took you over a fuckin’ week to take the bitch on a date.”

Garrett drew in a sharp breath through his nose.

“Let him up, Merry,” Mike urged.

He stared Ryker in the eye, knowing if Ryker wanted to throw down, things would be messy and no way could Garrett pin him to the desk for this long.

He didn’t need messy.

He was not close to finding this amusing, but he had culinary brilliance to look forward to that night and he didn’t want to do it through cut lips.

He straightened, pulling Ryker with him.

He let him go and stepped away.

Ryker gave him a scowl, then looked down to smooth his tank.

His head shot right back up. “Fuck, why didn’t anyone tell me I got powdered sugar on my tank?”

“For fuck’s sake,” Tanner muttered.

Garrett looked to Cutler. “You broke it off with Wendy to keep her safe.”

Cutler was not enjoying the show. Cutler wasn’t looking forward to going where he was soon going to go. Cutler was undoubtedly eventually going into WITSEC so he’d soon stop being Jaden Cutler in order to start being another guy in another town, starting from scratch and hoping like fuck Carlito never tracked him down. Cutler was also not looking forward to doing what he undoubtedly made a deal to do—testify against Carlito.

And Cutler was grieving the death of a woman he cared about.

“Didn’t work,” he grunted.

Garrett eyed him.

Then he muttered, “Sorry for your loss.”

“Sorry I fucked with you and your woman,” Cutler returned, his eyes sliding to Ryker then back to Garrett. “But you get in deep with that motherfucker, you gotta suck up whatever markers he calls.”

After he said that, he lifted his hands to indicate the room, which clearly said the state of play with the Feds and him was all Ryker.

“Ride’s here, Jeff,” Faria announced.

“We done?” Harleman asked, his gaze swinging between Mike and Garrett.

“We’ll have a chat with our cap and expect a phone call later this afternoon,” Mike answered.