v Ashley - Golden Trail

Ryker grinned. “That wasn’t no payment.”

Layne didn’t like the sound of that.

“So what was it?” Layne asked.

“Wasn’t no payment,” Ryker answered.

Layne studied Ryker then looked at Colt.

“Ryker, you got somethin’, it’d help Layne out,” Colt prompted and Ryker’s eyes went from Colt to Layne.

He examined Layne for a long time before he asked, “Which one?”

“Come again?” Layne asked back.

“Which boy?”

Layne felt the muscles in his neck contract. “Not sure that’s relevant, man.”

Ryker didn’t let it go. “The one that tagged that sweet catch and, after, caught it from that dickhead coach who should have his nuts in a vice or the one who can block like that fat bitch pushed him out while he was wearin’ shoulder pads?”

Christ, this fuckin’ guy was a Bulldogs fan.

“Jasper,” Layne knew at that moment it was safe to say. “My older boy. The one who can block.”

“Got quick feet, hasn’t seen the ball in two games,” Ryker noted. “You doin’ somethin’ about that?”

“All I can do,” Layne replied.

“And what’s that?” Ryker pushed.

“The School Board is investigating my complaint,” Layne answered and when he did, Ryker threw back his head and barked out his laughter, something Layne didn’t appreciate all that much but he held his tongue.

When he was done, Ryker tipped his chin down and leveled his eyes on Layne. “You give me the word, sport, I might find it in me to convince the coach to let both your boys see the ball. No marker to be paid, I’d give you that for free.”

Jesus.

“I like my way of doin’ it,” Layne told him.

“Scouts not gonna get the full picture, your older boy’s a senior, that motherfucker’ll fuck him up.”

“I still like my way of doin’ it,” Layne repeated and it was far more firmly this time.

Ryker watched him awhile then he shrugged.

Layne brought the matter back to hand, saying, “How much is Baranski into Carlito for?”

“Nothin’,” Ryker answered immediately and Layne’s brows drew together.

“Nothin’?” he reiterated.

“Nope, he was, dickhead’s shit at the dogs, but he ain’t anymore.”

Layne felt Colt’s eyes on him and he turned to meet his gaze.

Then Colt looked at Ryker. “You wanna fill in that picture?”

Layne looked back at Ryker too and Ryker leaned forward, putting a tattooed arm on the table.

“He got deep with Carlito, so deep he couldn’t get out,” Ryker shared. “So, instead of Carlito takin’ it out on Baranski the normal way, he put Baranski to work. Baranski liked this work so now he’s doin’ it part-time.”

Then he leaned back and stopped talking but Layne knew what he was saying and Layne knew why Gabby asked him to take the boys for extra weeks, even though she probably didn’t know why. Carlito was undoubtedly a frequent visitor and, even if Gabby wasn’t full in the know, she’d read Carlito and wouldn’t want the boys around that. And, lastly, Layne was struggling against the urge to hunt down Stew Baranski and beat him bloody.

He won his struggle and sought confirmation. “Stew is Carlito’s enforcer?”

Ryker nodded once. “One of ‘em, yeah.”

There it was. Confirmation.

Fucking shit.

“You are shittin’ me,” Layne whispered but he knew Ryker wasn’t.

Ryker confirmed this too and grinned while doing it. “Nope.”

Layne turned his head to Colt. “That asshole’s livin’ with my boys.”

Layne was addressing Colt but Ryker answered, “Yep,” and Layne’s eyes went back to him.

Then he told Ryker, “Done my homework, Ryker, and Baranski hasn’t been payin’ bills and neither has my ex.”

Ryker shrugged again. “Why would he? He’s got a sweet ride. She’s fat and she’s nothin’ to look at but she keeps him fed. Pays his bills,” he grinned again, “or maybe she doesn’t but she tries. She’s good cover, all respectable, single mom, two boys.” He tipped his head to Colt. “Means even the cops don’t know about his leisure activities. Leaves him free to do his job and gives him the opportunity he didn’t have before to use his money and his take from Carlito to live his life as he wants to and to keep his other piece sassy. Figure, he got hooked up with your ex because no one else would suck his dick but lotta women will suck your dick you got the money to pay ‘em to do it.”

“His other piece?” Colt asked.

“Yep,” Ryker answered.

“You know who that is?” Colt pressed.

“Don’t know her name but know she ain’t no fat bitch, she don’t got no kids, she drives an ace ride that Baranski bought her and also know she takes it up the ass because everyone knows that’s the only way Baranski likes it.”

Layne swallowed the saliva this statement brewed in his mouth, not needing that much information about Gabby’s relationship with her fuckwad boyfriend.

Ryker was grinning at him and then he leaned forward again and his grin disappeared.

“I’ll give you an extra bonus because your boys can play ball,” he said. “Baranski won’t be cryin’ in his cornflakes, your ex turns him out. But he’ll wring her dry before he gets shot of her. She’s diggin’ a hole to keep him in her bed, he won’t give one, single, shit he leaves her in that hole. You want him outta her bed, wouldn’t take but a touch of pressure to get him to go but that don’t mean he won’t leave her fucked up the ass and I mean that in a different way. You want him gone, it’ll take you about two fuckin’ seconds to make that happen. You want him to pay, now that would be more fun and, since I’m feelin’ generous, I could help you with that too.”

“How?” Layne bit out.

“I make it my business to know Carlito’s business and I can give you the head’s up, he sends Baranski after someone. You’re a dick, I bet you got cameras and, if you’re a good one, I bet you can make yourself invisible. You take shots of him leanin’ on someone, and he has a special flair with that, sport, he’s Carlito’s top man, what you’ll catch him doin’ won’t be pretty and that’s comin’ from a man who ain’t squeamish at the sight of blood. You can use those shots to lean on him. You got evidence, you shove it in his face, make the payoff somethin’ that’ll get your ex outta her hole and he’ll be gone.” He sat back and clapped his hands. “Problems solved.” He smiled big and his smile made him uglier. “You got a mind to do it, you could even do some ass fuckin’ yourself, after he makes that payoff, your ex is good, you hand over those shots to the pigs anyway. Baranski goes down, only people would miss him are Carlito and his piece of ass and, I’m just guessin’ here, but I bet neither of ‘em will take too long to find replacements.”

Layne smiled at him.

Then he said, “I’ll give you my number.”

It was ten to six when Layne turned onto his street and saw Rocky’s Mercedes parked, not in the drive, but at the curb behind a white Oldsmobile Cutlass Calais circa 1987, Dev’s ride.

She was early.

Layne was late.

He was late because he’d made the mistake of calling his client who was dedicated to the belief her husband was stepping out on her in an attempt to convince her that her husband was not stepping out on her. This should have been a ten minute conversation. It ended up being a forty-five minute conversation during which she’d fired him and informed him that she was hiring someone who would do the job properly. Layne wasn’t broken up about this, mainly because she was coming the next day to pay in cash.

He was also late because he stopped at the liquor store. He meant to buy a bottle of red wine for Rocky but ended up purchasing three and, because she hadn’t been of age when they were together and he had no fucking clue what she drank (outside red wine and fancy-ass beer, the latter of which he wasn’t spending money on on principle), he bought bottles of vodka, rum, gin, tequila as well as margarita mix and two-liters of diet cola and tonic water.

When Layne pulled into his drive, the garage door was up and the Charger was parked inside. Rocky and Dev undoubtedly parked in the street because Layne was coming in and Jasper had to go out to pick up Keira.

He pulled in, jumped down and Blondie jumped down behind him. Layne opened the backdoor of the SUV and hefted out the three carrier bags. He led the dog into the house and this took effort because Blondie was crowding him in her excitement to get to her boys, so much that they walked into the kitchen together.

Blondie shot forward but Layne stopped dead.

The vacuum was going and this was because Jasper was pushing it around the rug in the living room. Tripp was also in the living room, a dust rag in one hand, a can of furniture polish in the other and he was working on the wood of the TV unit. Rocky was still wearing her work getup, her back to him, standing at an island that was cleared of mail, magazines, papers, used coffee mugs, pop cans, beer bottles and other detritus. It now appeared to be covered in vegetables and at the end was an enormous bouquet of flowers. All the other counters had also been cleared as well as wiped down. Devin was sitting on a stool opposite Raquel, his fingers curled around a bottle of beer. When Layne walked in, both Devin and Rocky were laughing.

“Hey Dad!” Tripp shouted, Jasper’s head swung to him, Devin’s eyes went to him and Rocky turned toward him, a knife in her hand. Blondie barked and attacked Jasper and the vacuum.

“Have I entered a new dimension?” Layne asked the room to which Jasper grinned as he gave Blondie a head rub.