Golden Trail (49 page)

Layne grinned as his son and his woman
moved. Tripp grinned back. Rocky didn’t grin. Rocky looked
displeased.

Tripp didn’t let Rocky’s hand go until
Layne’s arm slid around her shoulders, he pulled her front to his
and tipped his chin up at Tripp who stepped away.

Then he dipped his chin down to look at
Rocky.

“Not fair,” she whispered before he could
speak, “reinforcements.”

“Baby,” he replied on a smile.

“We should sit,” Vera announced abruptly,
Rocky’s head turned to her, Layne let Rocky go with a sigh and they
all slid into the pew.

Without telling his son to do it, Jasper
worked with Layne to engineer the seating arrangement to pin Rocky
between them so that Tripp went in first, then Vera, then Jas, then
Rocky, then Layne and finally Josie.

The service started and they did a lot of
standing, sitting and singing, though Layne didn’t sing. While
people’s eyes were to their hymnbooks, Layne’s eyes were locked on
Gaines who was sitting in a pew, three rows back and to the side
and he had a very pretty, very young blonde girl on one side and a
very pretty, very young, redhead on his other side. His entire pew
was taken with girls, some pretty, some not-so-pretty but all of
them were young. Layne guessed freshman, at most sophomores.

Two seconds after the sermon started, Rocky
turned into him and her lips went to his ear.

“He’s not right,” she whispered.

“I know, baby,” he whispered back.

“He’s
really
not right.” She kept
whispering.

Layne turned his head to her, her lips went
away from his ear but he put his face close to hers, held her eyes
and whispered back, “Baby,
I know.
”

She gazed at him a second, worry open in her
eyes then she nodded and turned to face the front.

Layne glanced back at Gaines and his
followers and he felt his gut squeeze.

Then he made a decision.

He leaned in front of Rocky, caught Jasper’s
attention and Jasper leaned in front of Rocky too.

“You just went active duty,” Layne murmured,
Jasper’s eyes sliced across the church to the third pew then back
to Layne.

“Gotcha,” he returned quietly and sat
back.

Layne sat back too then glanced at Rocky and
saw she was smiling.

* * * * *

After the sermon, Layne walked back into the
vestibule holding Rocky’s hand and they stopped when one of his
mother’s friends called her name and Vera broke off to greet
her.

Five seconds later, Layne felt Rocky’s hand
squeeze his tightly, he looked down at her to see her eyes directed
across the vestibule and his eyes followed hers.

Gaines was again tending his flock but the
very pretty, very young redhead was close to him and had a hand
resting on his chest. She couldn’t be more than fourteen but she
rested her hand on his chest the way Rocky would rest hers on
Layne’s.

Layne’s stomach roiled.

This wasn’t about God, Jesus and religion.
It also wasn’t about drugs. This was what he’d suspected it was,
but hoped it wasn’t. It was about something else, something far
worse than drugs.

But what Layne didn’t get was that the guy
wasn’t hiding it. It was like he had carte blanche to cultivate his
underage harem right in the vestibule of the church. And, if he was
into young girls, how could he also be so blatantly into Rocky?

Layne scanned the crowd and he saw some
adults had their eyes on the group, their manner watchful and
uncomfortable. Parents who had concerns but who were not stepping
in.

Layne looked back at Gaines whose hand was
dropping from doing something around the redhead’s ear.

Dedication.

Those girls were devoted not to their faith
in Jesus but to their worship of TJ Gaines. These parents had had
words and the girls had gone teenaged girl berserk. The parents
were either lazy and didn’t want the headache of dealing with
pissed off teenaged girls in the throes of a very sick crush or
they had nothing to go on but speculation they
really
hoped
wasn’t accurate.

In the ‘burg, it was undoubtedly the
latter.

Layne looked at his sons. “Jas, Tripp, shut
that shit down,” he growled and both his boys nodded and wove
through the crowd.

“Layne?” Rocky called on a whisper and Layne
looked down at her.

“New plan, sweetcheeks,” he replied.

“That would be?” she prompted.

“Steppin’ it up,” Layne returned.

“Stepping it up?” she asked and he bent to
her.

“That man needs competition,” he
whispered.

“I thought you said he wouldn’t like anyone,
even high school boys, cutting into his action.”

“He won’t,” Layne stated.

“So?”

“So, I’m hopin’ that he’ll act to defend his
territory and fuck up or he’ll realize he’s blown and get outta
town.”

“I thought you wanted to take him down,”
Rocky noted.

“I did. Don’t like the idea of him movin’ on
to other prey but, right now, seein’ that shit with my own eyes, I
don’t like that his prey are my people. We can’t take him down, I
want him outta the ‘burg.”

She stared up at him a second before she
gave him the dimple and moved closer.

When she got close, she tipped her head way
back and whispered, “You probably shouldn’t say the f-word in a
church, Layne.”

“Think God’s got bigger concerns in his
house than me droppin’ the f-bomb, sweetcheeks.”

The dimple depressed deeper, her hand lifted
to curl her fingers around his neck and she got up on her toes to
touch her mouth to his.

“Uh…” they heard Josie mumble from close and
both of them turned their heads to her, “you wanna let me in on
what you two are whispering about?”

“Not really,” Layne replied and Rocky
giggled.

“We’re just discussing what we’re going to
have for dinner,” Rocky lied.

“Right,” Josie returned, her eyes sharp and
intelligent. “You two have been on Code Red Alert since you entered
the sanctuary.” Her eyes locked on Layne. “What gives?”

Before he could answer, or in this case
not
answer, Rocky suddenly called, “Harry!” Then her head
swung to Josie and she said, “I’ll call you later, honey, okay?”
And before Josie could answer or Layne could get his eyes on what
had her attention, she moved away from him and toward Harrison
Rutledge.

Layne’s body locked as he watched Rocky
greet Rutledge by putting her hand on his shoulder and kissing his
cheek.

Considering Layne spent a fair amount of
time following Rutledge, he knew that Rutledge rarely missed Sunday
church. He’d never understood why a man who wasn’t smart enough to
hide he was on the take went to church but he suspected it was
precisely that, an effort to hide he was on the take.

He’d forgotten about Rutledge but Rocky
hadn’t.

She knew he’d be there.

Shit, she’d orchestrated one helluva a play.
Two birds with one stone.

“Excuse me,” Layne muttered to Josie and
followed Rocky.

“You’d
so
do me a favor if you could
help out,” he heard Rocky saying as he got close and Rutledge’s
eyes moved to him and went wary.

“Rutledge,” Layne greeted as he hit them and
he slid an arm around Rocky’s waist, pulling her away from Rutledge
and tucking her into his side.

“Tanner,” Rutledge greeted back.

Rocky looked up at Layne. “I’ve asked him to
go up for auction. He’d be perfect!” She looked back at Rutledge
and lied, “The women will be at each other’s throats for you.”

Harrison Rutledge wasn’t exactly ugly but at
5’10” with light brown hair that was quickly thinning and a gut
that was equally quickly forming, he wasn’t exactly calendar man
material either.

“I don’t know, Rocky,” Rutledge
muttered.

“Oh you have to do it,” Rocky urged. “Layne
won’t because he’s with me, Colt is taken and we need as many hot
guys as we can get.”

“Have you talked to Mike?” Rutledge
asked.

“He’s on my list!” Rocky answered
enthusiastically, Rutledge looked unconvinced and she leaned
forward, grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. “Just think about
it, Harry,” she asked and dropped his hand but tilted her head.
“For me?”

Rutledge stared at her, smiled and said,
“All right, Rocky, I’ll think about it.”

She clapped her hands and cried, “Great!”
before looking at Layne and saying, “Isn’t that great,
sweetheart?”

“Yeah, baby, great,” Layne muttered to her
and looked at Rutledge. “It’d help out a lot, man. Sean would be
grateful.”

Rutledge’s eyes went from wary to guarded,
he watched Layne a beat then nodded. “I’d do anything for
Sean.”

Fucking lying sack of shit.

“Perfect!” Rocky exclaimed with a little
jump and Rutledge’s eyes shot to her tits to watch them bounce.

Sack of
shit.

Layne was done and he communicated this by
giving Rocky a squeeze and saying, “I missed out on pancakes,
sweetcheeks. We need to get home. I’m starved.”

She looked up at him and slid an arm around
his waist. “Right, of course.” Her gaze went to Rutledge. “See you
later?”

“Later, Rocky.” He nodded to Layne.
“Tanner.”

“Later,” Layne grunted and moved Rocky
away.

When they’d taken five steps, she muttered
under her breath, “That went well.”

“Do me a favor,” Layne muttered back.

“What?” she asked.

“Don’t jump around that asshole.”

She stopped and looked up at him, confused.
“Why?”

He looked down at her. “Baby, you got a
great rack. Gonna have to put up with everyone noticing it but
don’t wanna have to put up with that assclown’s eyes locked on
it.”

Understanding flooded her face,
understanding and disgust.

“Oh,” she whispered.

“Oh,” Layne repeated.

“Okay, I won’t jump,” she relented
immediately.

“Appreciate it,” Layne replied.

Vera approached. “I’ve decided on pork chops
and au gratin potatoes for dinner,” she announced and then went on.
“And I’m making my Milky Way cake.” After this, Layne felt Rocky go
completely solid at his side. “We need to get home. I need to get
to the store.”

Layne suspected that Vera just pulled out
the big guns. Pork chops, au gratin potatoes and Milky Way cake
were his favorite and Rocky knew it because
she
was the one
who’d made him his first Milky Way cake on the first birthday he’d
celebrated with her and Vera had been there. Milky Way cake wasn’t
Vera’s, it was Rocky’s. Except the fact that Vera had a variety of
occasions in the last eighteen years to make it for him and Rocky
had not. Layne wasn’t hip on chick war tactics but he suspected his
mother just escalated hostilities.

“Ma –” Layne started to warn but Vera cut
him off.

“We need to go,” she stated. “I’ll go get
the boys.” Then she hustled in the direction of Jasper and Tripp,
who’d managed to pry a throng of girls from TJ Gaines’s snare and
were shining their football stud light upon them.

Layne’s eyes went to Rocky to see her eyes
on his mother.

“Roc –”

“That’s
my
cake,” she whispered, her
eyes still on his mother.

Layne sighed, then repeated, “Roc –”

Her gaze shot to his. “She can’t have that
cake.”

“Just let her do what she thinks she has to
do.”

Rocky glared at him then her eyes changed
and Layne’s neck contracted when they did because he didn’t like
what he saw before she hid it by looking away from him.

“Rocky?” he called.

She looked at him again. “You know, I
haven’t made that cake in years. Not for Dad, not for Merry, even
when they asked for it, and
not
for Jarrod.”

He understood the look, both his hands went
to her hips and he murmured, “Baby.”

“That’s
my
cake,” she repeated, back
to whispering. “And she knows it.”

Then she pulled from his hands and strutted
away.

Yep, he was right, an escalation in
hostilities.

He took in a deep breath through his nose,
looked to see his mother corralling his sons and when they started
to walk his way, Layne turned and followed Rocky to the car.

* * * * *

When they hit the house, Rocky was still
pissed at Vera and, wordlessly, she marched through the house and
up the stairs.

Layne followed her, not because she was
pissed, she’d made that bed by leaving him and she had to deal with
his mother her way. He’d said his piece, Vera had ignored it, Rocky
clearly wasn’t going to bolt because of Vera’s antics so now he
wasn’t getting involved.

No, he followed her because
he
was
pissed. She’d made her play and got her way and Layne didn’t like
how she went about it. It didn’t matter that she was right, putting
that shit with Gaines under his nose so he’d intensify the
operation. Because, in doing it, she’d also put herself out there
and that, coupled with how she’d made her play, pissed him off.

It was time to teach Rocky a lesson.

She was halfway across his bedroom when he
made it to the door and closed it loudly behind him. The instant he
did, she stopped and whirled.

“I’ll be needing to have words with your
mother,” she announced.

“Later,” Layne returned, moving toward
her.

“No, in about two minutes,
before
she
goes to the grocery store and comes back and
steals my
cake.
”

“Got things bigger than cakes to talk about,
sweetcheeks,” Layne replied, still advancing on her, her face
cleared, she got a good look at him, she read him and astutely
started backing up.

“Layne –” she started, her hand coming up
and Layne didn’t stop moving but his eyes went to her hand then
back to hers.

“Not wearin’ your bandage,” he remarked.