Golden Trail (63 page)

Layne hit the snooze button instead, the
buzzer died and he replied, “Yeah, baby, when do you need to get
up?”

“Quarter to,” she muttered, snuggling into
him.

Layne was surprised; she was always out of
bed early, considering it took her an age to get ready. Maybe she
had a late start today.

“Quarter to seven?” he asked, just to be
sure.

“Six,” she mumbled.

“Baby, it’s already six thirty,” he replied
and her body tensed, she shot back up to her elbow and peered at
the clock.

“
Fuck!
” she hissed, threw the covers
back and crawled over him. “Fuck!” she repeated and darted from the
bed.

“Roc,” he called as she raced across his
room.

“I’m late!” she cried, the bathroom light
went on and she disappeared.

Layne didn’t move. He lay in bed trying to
shake off the dream.

It was nothing, he told himself. Just a
dream. It wasn’t surprising he had it. Things were good, Rocky was
back, he was happy but he’d had that before and it had gone bad
before. He knew that subconsciously just as much as consciously. It
would fuck with his head and it was. He had to find a way to sort
her out and until then he just had to deal.

He was out of bed and tugging on a pair of
pajama bottoms when he heard the faucet go on in the bathroom and
he headed that way.

Rocky was in his tee, her hair in a messy
knot at the top of her head, standing at his sink brushing her
teeth.

He leaned against the arched doorway, her
neck twisted and her eyes came to his.

“Do me a favor?” he asked, her eyebrows went
up but she kept brushing and he went on. “Kiss me before you leave
my bed.”

She took the toothbrush out of her mouth as
her brows drew together. “Wha? Why?” she asked, her mouth full of
foam.

“Just do me that favor,” he answered.

She stared at him a second, bent and spit
then looked back at him. “You okay?”

He gave it to her honest. “My dream wasn’t
so good this morning.”

Layne watched some of the color run out of
her face. “What?”

“My dream, about you, it wasn’t so good this
morning.”

Her gaze didn’t leave him for three beats
then she turned, bent over the faucet, rinsed out her mouth, turned
off the faucet and grabbed the towel from the holder. She wiped her
mouth and dried her hand then came to him. She put a hand on his
chest and leaned in.

“What happened?” she asked.

“Sweetcheeks, you’re late,” he reminded
her.

“Yeah,” she replied but didn’t move except
to fit herself to his front and curl the fingers of her other hand
at his waist. “What happened?”

Layne put both hands to her hips. “You gotta
get a move on.”

“In a minute, tell me about the dream.”

“It’s just a dream.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Rocky.”

“Layne.”

He looked down at her seeing she was
prepared to go into stare down if she had to therefore his arms
curved around her, one staying at her waist, the other one drifting
up her back, her exposed neck, to glide his fingers in her pulled
up hair.

“You woke me up, in the dream, to tell me it
was the beginning of the end,” he told her.

Her eyes stayed locked to his then her chin
dipped and she pressed her forehead against his chest.

His hand cupped the back of her head. “It’s
just a dream.”

“I did that,” she told his chest.

“What?”

She tipped her head back again and repeated,
“I did that.”

“Did what?”

Instead of answering his question, she
informed him, “That freaked you out.”

“Like I said, Roc, it’s just a dream.”

“Right,” she whispered, her hand at his
waist curling around his back and her hand at his chest sliding up
so she could wrap her fingers around his neck. “Just a dream that
made you get that look you’ve got right now and tell me to kiss you
before I get out of bed.”

“Not an odd request, sweetcheeks.”

“I’ve been waking up next to you awhile,
Layne, you’ve not made it before.”

“Until this morning, I didn’t need to.” And
this was true. He’d fucked her every morning she’d been back in his
bed for real, and the one he’d woken up in hers, excepting the
morning his mother had come calling.

She held his eyes and didn’t respond. Then
she lifted up on her toes and touched her mouth to his.

She moved back barely an inch to whisper,
“I’ll kiss you before I leave your bed, sweetheart. Promise.”

“Thanks, baby,” he whispered back.

Her arm and hand gave him a squeeze, she
lifted up to touch her mouth to his again then she pulled away and
moved to the faucet.

Layne watched her start to wash her face,
his eyes moving around the basin, seeing all her stuff scattered
there. All of her stuff around
his
sink. She didn’t claim
the other one, she used his.

Or you hold it so close, it can’t ever go
away but, if it does, you got as many precious memories as you can
bag.
Devin had said.

You hold it so close…

You hold it so close…

Rocky rinsed her face, Layne still watching,
knowing, using his sink instead of claiming her own, it was one of
the ways Rocky was holding him close, being at his sink, around his
shit, just his toothbrush, his razor, but she was holding him
close, even with little shit like that.

Holding him close.

He let that settle and, doing it, he let the
after effects of the troubling dream slide away. He moved in behind
her and kissed the skin at the nape of her neck.

Then he went to the toilet.

* * * * *

He opened the door to the Suburban just as
his phone rang. He jumped down and held the door for Blondie to
trundle out behind him as he pulled the phone out of his pocket,
looked at the display, flipped it open and put it to his ear.

“Hey sweetcheeks,” he greeted.

It was third period time; she had it free so
she could make calls. Even so, he was mildly surprised to get one
since this was the first time she’d called since that day he’d
visited her at the school to tell her what he found out about
Gaines.

“Hey baby,” she whispered back in a breathy
voice.

Hearing it, Layne decided that the next
favor he was going to ask of her was that she call him on her free
period every day.

But he’d do it later. Now, he wanted to know
why she was calling.

He slammed the door to his truck and, with
Blondie beside him, he walked up the sidewalk toward Mimi’s.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“Just wanted to tell you that the girls are
having a Bachelor Auction Powwow tomorrow afternoon at my
apartment. Is that cool with you?”

“Yeah, you comin’ over after?”

“No, I thought I’d make you dinner at my
place and you can stay the night with me.”

He smiled into the phone as he opened the
door to Mimi’s and walked in, leaving Blondie outside. “Works for
me.”

“Anything special you want?” she asked.

“Surprise me,” he answered.

“I can do that,” she replied.

“Just a sec, sweetcheeks,” Layne said into
the phone then ordered from one of Mimi’s employees, a kid with
three piercings in her bottom lip, two in her nose, one in her
eyebrow and she had pink hair.

Layne didn’t understand piercing nor did he
find it attractive and it went without saying that pink hair was
not his gig but this kid had made him coffee before and she was
even better at it than Meems, which was saying something. She also
had a great smile and she learned his name early and used it
whenever she had occasion to do so, making him feel a member of the
Mimi’s Coffee House Family. This was a nice touch and the way she
did it was real, not ingratiating. Therefore, he found he liked her
hair and didn’t mind the piercings because under all that shit was
a genuine person, not one who wanted attention but just one who got
off on that shit.

To each their own.

He went back to Rocky after got his,
“What’ll it be this time, Tanner?” he’d placed his order and as he
pulled out his wallet to pay.

“You get to work on time?” he asked
Raquel.

“Ten minutes late but no one noticed since
Adrian was in and cleaning out his office with Principal Klausen
and Nick Fullerton in attendance so everyone was jabbering about
that.”

“You see him?” Layne asked.

“No, Sharon told me about it then I went to
my room. I’m thinking avoiding Adrian Cosgrove is a good
strategy.”

There she was, his good girl.

“You’d be right,” he told her.

“Did you set a meeting with one of the
boys?”

He had, with Colt. Merry still wasn’t
returning his calls even though the subject of his messages had
changed. Dave now also wasn’t picking up, even on the home phone
which didn’t have caller ID and this meant he was making it his
mission to avoid Layne. So it was Colt and it was also a study in
patience not to hunt the Merrick men down and get in their
faces.

“Colt, he’s comin’ to my office in half an
hour,” Layne answered.

“Good,” Rocky replied.

Layne had paid and was standing at the other
end of the counter waiting for his coffee when he heard Blondie
bark three times and his head turned to the door to see Ryker come
in. And it was a Ryker with a serious look on his face and this
look was aimed with pinpoint precision at Layne.

Layne held Ryker’s eyes as Ryker stalked
through the coffee shop toward him.

“Baby, gotta go,” Layne said into the phone.
“Ryker’s here.”

“Oh, okay,” she replied. “Are we still going
to the game tonight?”

“Yeah,” Layne answered. “I’ll pick you up.
Get a snack, sweetcheeks, we’re havin’ pizza and beer at your place
after.”

“Oh, okay,” she repeated, this time softer,
breathy again. She remembered weeks ago, she liked what they shared
weeks ago, she wanted it back and she wanted it to have a different
ending, just like him.

“We gotta talk,” Ryker growled, he’d made it
to Layne, he was impatient and Layne nodded.

“Be at your place at seven,” Layne said to
Rocky.

“All right, sweetheart, see you then,” Rocky
replied.

“Later, baby.”

“Later.”

He flipped his phone shut, shoved it into
his pocket and asked Ryker, “You want a coffee?”

“We gotta talk,” Ryker repeated.

Layne studied him until his coffee was up;
he grabbed it and led the way out of Mimi’s. Blondie barked at
Ryker again but followed close to Layne the short distance to his
office, not taking her eyes off Ryker and not leaving her man. She
didn’t know what to make of Ryker and she wasn’t sure what she was
reading from Layne, but she did know what she was reading from
Ryker, so she was being vigilant.

Layne let them into his office and he’d
barely taken off his coat and settled in his chair, Blondie sitting
sentry beside his desk, when Ryker spoke.

He was sitting across from Layne and his
posture wasn’t lazy, it was alert to the point of being wired.

“You used to be a cop,” Ryker stated
bizarrely, this not being the opening Layne expected, not that he
knew what to expect.

“Yeah,” Layne returned guardedly.

“On the ‘burg’s PD,” Ryker growled and Layne
studied him a moment before he nodded. “Still close with those
pigs?” he asked and Layne’s neck muscles contracted.

“Yeah, Ryker, I am and you already know
that. I gave that comment a pass once but head’s up now that I’m
not a big fan of my boys bein’ called pigs and I’m not likely gonna
give that comment a pass again,” Layne replied softly.

“They’re pigs,” Ryker shot back and Layne
leaned forward, not a deep lean, enough to show Ryker he, too, was
on alert and he was losing patience.

“I get you’re a badass, Ryker, but this is
my place, my office, you show respect here, do you get me?”

Ryker didn’t hesitate before he went on.
“One of ‘em in particular.”

Layne stared at him, understanding, and he
went hyper-alert.

Then he growled, “Stop fuckin’ around,
what’s got you tweaked?”

“My babe’s got a daughter,” he stated.

“And?” Layne prompted.

“Name’s Alexis,” Ryker told him.

Holy fuck.

It was Ryker’s turn to study him and he did,
then he nodded. “I think you get why I was willin’ to be all over
that shit.”

“Talk to me,” Layne ordered low.

“Yesterday, last night, this mornin’, I was
all over that shit,” Ryker said.

“What’d you get?”

“Man and woman, comin’ and goin’, no
schedule, but they’re both busy. The Youth Minister and his woman.
Though, not sure she’s his woman. They walked to their cars
together, no touchin’, just talkin’. He’s either whipped or she’s
the one with the balls. He’s not the big man with her, she was the
one with the ‘tude. She threw a stick and told him to fetch, he’d
run.”

When he stopped talking, Layne urged, “Keep
goin’.”

“Late night visit, bro, around eleven
thirty, one of the tenants of The Brendel took a walk.”

Layne’s entire body got tight but he didn’t
say a word.

He didn’t have to, he knew it when Ryker
stated, “You get me.”

He got him. Rutledge.

Rutledge went to church every Sunday.
Rutledge lived at The Brendel. Gaines acted like he was untouchable
because he was, he had a dirty cop in his pocket, or, more to the
point, whoever the woman was, she did.

Ryker leaned forward. “You tell your boys at
the pig factory about this shit, you got problems… with me. This
shit
we
work, you and me,” he lifted a big hand and motioned
between the two of them, “the cops aren’t in this.”

“Only dirty cop in that Department is the
one you saw.”

“You sure about that?” Ryker asked.

“Yeah,” Layne answered.