Jasper pulled in breath before he said, “Mom’s workin’. She wasn’t supposed to but someone called in sick.” Layne nodded and Jasper went on. “Stew’s home and I didn’t want to be around Stew today and didn’t want Tripp around him.”
The muscles in Layne’s neck contracted as he asked sharply, “Why?”
Jasper didn’t delay in answering. “Stew got home late last night. He does that a lot. Sometimes Mom is cool with it, sometimes they fight. Last night they fought. It wasn’t good. It’s never good but last night it really wasn’t good. I think he’s steppin’ out on her.”
He’d be right.
“So you’re here to hang rather than bein’ there and hangin’,” Layne stated.
“No, we gotta go to the school and swim with the team and then we gotta go to Youth Group. There’s another reason why we’re here,” Jasper replied, Layne was silent and Jasper went on. “When they were shoutin’ last night, in the middle of it, Mom freaked. Said somethin’ about blood on Stew’s clothes.”
Layne took in a deep breath and let it out.
He wasn’t surprised that there was blood on Stew’s clothes. He’d beat the shit out of someone and then shot him at close range. The blood splatter was bound to hit him.
Gabby was cottoning on. Layne didn’t have much time.
“You say Stew is home?” Layne asked, Jasper nodded and Layne continued. “And your Mom is out?” Jasper nodded again. “How long’s Stew stay home on a Saturday?”
Jasper shrugged. “Stew doesn’t have a schedule but he got home late and they fought, like, for-freakin’-ever. I reckon he’ll sleep in.”
Layne nodded. “Good call, comin’ here, Bud. It’s showtime. I’ll do my thing today.”
“What do I do?” Jasper asked.
“Keep your phone close. Once I’m done, I’ll give you a brief.”
Jasper nodded as he said, “You got it, Dad.”
Layne looked at his son and made a decision.
Therefore, he shared, “You remember I told you Rocky didn’t know it wasn’t fake anymore?”
Layne watched his son’s eyes grow intense before Jas said, “Yeah.”
“Well, she knows it isn’t fake anymore,” Layne finished and Jasper grinned instantly, his grin huge.
“Cool,” he murmured.
“Your Grandma isn’t here as a surprise. She’s here because she heard about Rocky bein’ back in my life. She and Rocky used to be tight, she loved her like a daughter. She was not happy when Rocky took off, mostly because of what it did to me but also because she missed her. So that means she’s not happy that Rocky’s back. I need your help with that,” Layne told him.
“How?” Jasper asked.
“Roll with it and make whatever plays you feel you need to make. I trust you to make the right ones. But Rocky’s ridin’ the edge of this reconciliation. It’s good, she knows it but somethin’ isn’t right. Until I know what that is and sort her head out, we all gotta tread cautiously. She gets an excuse, she’s gonna make a break for it, from me, from you and Tripp, and when Roc breaks, she breaks hard.”
“It’s her Dad,” Jasper stated and Layne stared at him.
“Come again?” he asked.
“Everyone knows her story. Everyone at school. Everyone thinks she’s cool because she’s cool. Everyone thinks she’s cooler now because she’s with you. But everyone likes her because she’s how she is even though she went through what she went through. She’s hot, she dresses nice, she smells good, she smiles a lot, she takes care of the kids and not just the ones in her classroom. She knows everyone. She talks to ‘em. Gives a shit. She’s totally got it together. Lotta people who went through what she went through wouldn’t be like that. But that’s what she shows the kids. I see the way she looks at you, it’s the way Mom always looks at you when you don’t know she’s lookin’, but it’s more. She likes you but you’re like her Dad, like Merry. Doctors don’t get shot at, Dad.”
Layne stared at his son for a beat before he said quietly, “I ever tell you you’re sharp?”
Jasper stared at his old man for a beat before he replied quietly, “No.”
“As a tack, Bud,” Layne whispered.
Jasper swallowed but his son, being his son but also being all Jasper, didn’t look away.
And because he didn’t, Layne walked up to him and put both hands to his son’s neck, giving it a firm squeeze, he looked him in the eyes and whispered, “Fucked up with you, know it, but you’re a fuckin’ good kid despite that and, even though I didn’t have much to do with it, I’m proud of you.” He gave his son’s neck a gentle jerk and finished. “Love you, Bud.”
Jasper swallowed again but didn’t take his eyes from his Dad.
He also didn’t pull away or slide into his asshole teenaged kid attitude.
Layne let that golden trail sweep through him before he went on.
“You got time before swimmin’, clean up this room, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Jasper whispered.
“I’m gonna be doin’ somethin’ at the computer in a minute. You keep Tripp downstairs. Got me?”
Jasper nodded.
Layne gave him another squeeze and walked out of the room. He went to his room and found the bed made and Rocky at his sink, her ass in her gray cords tipped back, her torso bent over the counter, a makeup brush in her hand, bristles at her cheek, she was wearing her cords and a deep purple bra. This bra was satin and lace, mostly lace. There was a wet towel on the rack. He’d heard it and knew she’d taken a quick shower. He lived any other life, he’d be in that shower with her and they’d probably still be in it.
Another time and he was looking forward to that time.
She hadn’t washed her hair and it was up in a messy knot secured by a band at the top of her head. Seeing it, he determined, when her clothes hung in his closet and her shit was in the drawers under that counter, when she was at work, he was going to take scissors to every one of those fuckin’ bands, melt down her pins and snap her clips.
Now, he took advantage of it.
She stayed bent over the basin but her eyes came to him as he approached. He moved in behind her, ran his hand across her ribs just under her tits and pulled her up.
“Layne,” she whispered as his head went down and his lips went to the skin on her neck. “Layne,” she breathed and when she did his other arm wrapped around her belly and he pulled her deeper into his body as he ran his tongue up her neck to behind her ear. “Baby,” she whispered and his head came up and he looked at her in the mirror.
Eyes half-mast, mouth soft, beautiful.
“Like this bra,” he murmured in her ear and his thumb slid along the satin at the underside of the curve of her breast.
“Thanks,” she murmured as his thumb slid back and he felt a tremor glide through her body.
“Hate to say this, sweetcheeks, but the boys bein’ home means my mornin’ just got more complicated,” he told her.
She held his gaze in the mirror but she lost that look as she did it and the instant it was gone, he missed it.
“Seth?” she guessed.
“Stew,” he replied and she bit her lip but nodded. “Need to give this my attention, have some work to do here then I gotta go but I’ll be back as soon as I can. I’ll talk to Devin, ask him to take you home so you can pack up some shit, enough for the weekend and to get to work on Monday. That cool with you?”
She nodded.
“Ignore Ma,” Layne went on. Rocky bit her lip again and Layne’s arms gave her a squeeze. “Ignore her, Roc. She spends time with you, she’ll come around.”
“Okay,” she whispered but he could tell she wasn’t buying it.
“Stay strong for me, two days, you promised,” he reminded her.
She held his gaze again then she nodded and said, “I promised.”
“Good,” he muttered, bent his head and kissed her neck before he let her go and said, “I gotta get dressed.”
He saw her eyes follow him th
en she bent over the basin again and went back to her makeup.
Layne went out to the weight room and turned on his computer and printer at his desk. Then he went back to his room and Rocky had her face so close to the mirror she could kiss it as she applied mascara. Her ass was tipped way back, her neck bent, her back arched and, seeing her like that, Layne loved his boys, he loved his Ma and he loved Devin but he wished they were all on another planet.
He shook off his thoughts, pulled on clothes, crowded Rocky as he brushed his teeth and then walked to his desk. He was sitting down and transferring the images from the memory card to the hard drive when Rocky walked out of his room wearing her turtleneck, her hair still in a bunch at the top of her head, her arms full of dirty towels.
Layne looked at the towels then at her.
“You seriously need to do laundry,” she announced and didn’t wait for his reply, she walked down the stairs.
Layne turned and grinned at his computer.
Playing this real meant, for Rocky, having free reign to do his laundry.
Bonus. Big time.
He was printing images on photo paper and saving them to a data stick he would put in his safe at the office when he heard her come back. He was busy and didn’t turn to her until he saw a mug of coffee slide onto his desktop, scrunched next to it was a Hilligoss cinnamon roll wrapped in a paper napkin, his favorite. He bent his neck back to look up at her and saw her hands wrapped around a mug, her eyes were on the computer screen and her face was perfectly blank.
He looked to the screen and it displayed a picture of Stew landing a kick on his mark and seeing it, and knowing Rocky saw it, Layne had to make a decision. Protect her from his work or let her in and help her to understand and cope.
So he made his decision.
He wrapped an arm around her hips, swiveling his chair toward her, and guided her carefully into his lap. She didn’t resist and settled in as he bent forward and grabbed his mug.
“Wasn’t pretty, baby,” he muttered against the rim before taking a sip.
She slid her mug on the desk and reached out to grab the photos from the printer tray. He watched her bend her neck to look down at them and fought the urge to take them from her hands and protect her from what she’d see as she shuffled through them.
“Stew’s an asshole,” she whispered, her eyes scanning the photos.
“Yep,” Layne agreed, watching her face and, unfortunately, not paying attention to the photos so when she sucked in breath and her body got tight, he wasn’t sure why.
He assumed it was a shot of Stew drilling a round into the man’s thigh.
It wasn’t. It was a shot of Stew drilling something else.
Layne put his mug down and tugged the photos out of her hands. He turned them face down, dropped them to his desk and looked up at Rocky to see her eyes wide, her face pale and her lips parted.
Then she whispered a hilariously disgusted, “Gross.”
She was okay. Thank God.
Layne smiled and remarked, “That about sums it up, sweetcheeks.”
Her eyes caught his. “That wasn’t Gabrielle,” she informed him of something he already knew.
“Nope,” he agreed.
“Women put up with a lot of shit,” she noted.
“Yep,” Layne agreed again.
“Not many would put up with that,” she went on.
“You’re gettin’ it, baby.”
Her eyes slid to the pictures and then back to him.
Then she said, “I bet that wasn’t fun.”
“You’d win that bet.”
She held his gaze for a moment then her hand came to his jaw and she dipped her head and touched her mouth to his.
She moved away an inch and said softly, “She won’t agree but she’s lucky you’re looking out for her Layne. This isn’t fun but it’s the right thing to do.”
Yes, she was all right. More than all right. Thank fuck.
“Thanks, baby,” he said softly back, giving her waist a squeeze.
“I’ll leave you to it,” she muttered, turning away to nab her coffee mug and then moving out of his lap.
He didn’t want her to leave him but if she did, he could get this done and then it’d be over so he could concentrate on the other thousand things happening in his life so he had to let her leave him to it.
He felt Rocky’s presence glide away as she moved down the stairs. He pulled out the data stick and slipped in another one. One was for his safe, insurance. One was for Colt, retribution. He’d make another one and give it to Devin, more insurance.
He did his work, ate his cinnamon roll, called good-bye to his sons when they went swimming and hoped to God Devin could play peacemaker downstairs between Rocky and his mother.
Then he shut down his computer, locked two of the data sticks in his cupboard, put the photos in a folder, went to his room and pulled on socks and boots, went back to his chair and tagged his leather jacket and walked down the stairs.
He gave the data stick to Devin.
He gave his mother a kiss on the cheek.
He gave Rocky a touch of the lips.
Then he went out the door, swung into his truck and drove to his ex-wife’s house.
Chapter Sixteen
Real
Stew handed Layne the envelope and, just by the feel of it, Layne knew it wasn’t light.
Even so, he counted every bill and took his time doing it. Ten thousand dollars. He’d come up with the cash in less than an hour, which was the amount of time Layne had given him to do it.
Their earlier conversation hadn’t gone well, mostly because Stew was an asshole. But even if he was an asshole, apparently Stew wasn’t as stupid as Layne thought because after he treated Layne to a fuckload of bullshit bluster, he agreed to meet Layne in the alley behind J&J’s Saloon which also happened to be behind his office.
Layne tucked the flap in the envelope, shoved it into the inside pocket of his leather jacket and looked at Stew.
“Good,” Layne muttered. “Now get to Gabby’s and get your shit. You’re out before she gets home from work.”
Stew glared at him then grunted, “No skin off my nose. Bitch is a pain in the ass.”
“Excellent, then I won’t have to worry about you cryin’ while eatin’ chocolate and watchin’ soap operas.”
Stew’s eyes narrowed right before he got stupid and he hissed, “Fuck you, motherfucker.” Then he got more stupid, leaned in and threatened, “You’ll regret this.”
Layne moved instantly and he moved fast. He pulled up a forearm and caught Stew under the chin with it, knocking his teeth together and jerking his head back. Then Layne went for Stew’s exposed throat, wrapping his fingers around it tight, he shoved Stew hard into his Suburban, pushed him back and bent over him to get in his face.
“You even fuckin’ breathe in my direction, Jasper’s, Tripp’s, Gabby’s or Rocky’s, I swear to God, you’re dead. Swear to God.” He squeezed tighter and Stew’s feet scuffled against the pavement as his hand pushed against Layne’s wrist and he forced his arm between their bodies and shoved up but Layne didn’t move, using only his hand on Stew’s throat to bend him further backward until a gurgling noise came from Stew’s throat. “You think to get smart, your ass is in jail and those photos are all over the internet so, when you get out, everyone in the ‘burg will know why you’re such an asshole considering you like it so much.”
“Fuck you!” Stew hissed, spittle coming out of his mouth, his face turning purple.
“I need to know you get me,” Layne pushed, squeezing harder.
“Get off me!” Stew choked.
“I need,” Layne squeezed harder, laying all his weight into his hand, “to know you get me.”
“I get you, get the fuck off!” Stew wheezed.
Layne pushed off, took a step back and Stew righted himself from the car, bending over, he put his hand to his throat.
“Gabby’s,” Layne ordered and turned to his SUV, swung in and s
till choking Stew had to jump out of the way as Layne drove out of the alley.
Then he headed to Gabrielle’s grocery store to do something that he was looking forward to only slightly more than dealing with Stew Baranski. But she’d find out eventually and Rocky was right, Layne had to suck it up and he might as well take the shit she was going to lay on him now rather than enduring a surprise attack when she found out.
He found her at the customer service desk and her eyes came to him when he was five feet away.
“You’re takin’ a break,” he informed her when he made it to the desk. He ignored the customers in line and finished, “Now.”
Gabby stared at him a second, turned to someone with her and said, “Give me a minute.” Then she moved from behind the desk and Layne followed as she led him to the back, through a door, down a hall and into the break room.
Two employees were sitting there. One a zit-faced kid who really needed an appointment with a dermatologist, the other a blonde who really needed to lay off the eyeliner or learn how to put it on better.
“We need privacy,” Layne announced when he and Gabby walked in, he watched them both start then freeze so he ordered, “Now.”
They moved then and shot to the door.
The minute it closed behind them, Gabrielle turned to him. “Jas –?” she started.
Layne shook his head and cut her off. “Boys are good.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out the envelope and handed it to her.
She took it, bent her head to it, opened the flap and, even with her head bent, Layne saw her mouth drop open.
Then her head shot back, her eyes bright and hopeful. “What?”
Fuck. She thought he was bailing her out.
“That’s not from me,” Layne told her, the hope died and she looked confused and wary. “It’s from Stew. He’s gone. You go home tonight, he’s left a pair of tighty whiteys, I wanna know.”
Her face started getting red before she snapped, “What’d you do?”
He gave it to her straight and didn’t waste time.
“Stew’s an enforcer for a guy called Carlito. He doesn’t owe him shit, he works for him and gets paid big. He’s been playin’ you, Gabby, but he’s not playin’ you anymore.”