Golden Trail (57 page)

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Authors: Kristen Ashley

Tags: #Romance, #private detective, #contemporary romance, #crime

BOOK: Golden Trail
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“There’s a pill I have now. Jarrod knew
about it. It works, if I take it in time. Sometimes even when I
don’t take it in time, if it doesn’t end up in the toilet, like
that one did.”

Layne took in this information and moved the
cloth from her neck to her face, wiping her brow and sliding it
down to clean her mouth last.

“Thanks,” she whispered, her eyes still
foggy but pointed at him.

“Anytime, sweetcheeks,” he grinned at her,
“you know that.”

Her mouth got soft and her lips parted right
before her eyes slid from him and he looked over his shoulder to
see Astley at the door, watching them. He had a glass of water in
one hand, the other hand balled in a fist. He took one step into
the bathroom and put the glass on the basin of the sink and dropped
a light blue tablet next to it.

“Give her that, she keeps it down, she’ll be
better in an hour,” he stated then he walked out of the room.

Layne listened while he helped Rocky to her
feet but he didn’t hear the door downstairs close. He kept
listening as he gave Roc the tablet and handed her the glass. She
gulped it down, he took the glass from her, set it on the basin and
he led her into her room knowing Astley still hadn’t left.

She went direct to the master bath off her
bedroom and he leaned against the doorjamb and watched while she
quickly brushed her teeth. Then he stepped aside as she wandered in
her pain-fuelled fog to the bed, gingerly entered it and just as
gingerly laid down on her side, curled her knees into her belly and
pressed her head into the pillow.

He walked to her, pulled the covers over her
and let them drop lightly on her. Then he leaned in and shifted her
hair off her neck. He wanted to kiss her but if it was as bad as it
seemed, she wouldn’t want that so he left her in the room and
closed the door behind him.

He found Astley standing and staring
sightlessly out her huge windows.

“Astley –” he started.

Astley cut him off. “Tell her to tell her
attorneys what she wants. I’ll consider it and counter if it’s
inappropriate.”

Fuck, he was caving.

“You’re gonna settle?” Layne asked, Astley
turned and gazed at him.

He did this for awhile and Layne held his
gaze, waiting. Then Astley looked away and walked to the front
door.

Hand on the knob, he turned to Layne. “I
want
you
to know it’s not because of your antics.” His eyes
slid to the stairs then back to Layne. “It’s because of her.” He
stared at Layne a beat that fed into five. Then he whispered,
“You’re not the only one who can love her, you know.”

Layne felt his body lock, his temper flare
and his patience ebb. “Fuckin’ strange way of showin’ it, man.”

“You think that then you’ve never loved
someone so much, wanted someone’s attention so badly, you’d do
anything to get it,” Astley shot back. “You think I’m an asshole.
She’s been cheating on me for twelve years, since our first date,
sitting across the table from me and wishing I was you.”

His chest got tight at Astley’s words but he
still returned, “You’re wrong. She wanted to love you.”

Astley shook his head and looked back to the
stairs.

Eyes on the stairs he whispered, “I didn’t
stand a chance.”

Then he opened the door, stepped through and
was careful to close it quietly.

Layne didn’t hesitate and walked across the
room to turn the lock and flip the latch.

He stood with his hand still on the latch
not thinking about Astley’s final words. He wasn’t giving headspace
to that asshole. Instead he was thinking one down, half a dozen to
go.

Then he walked to the fridge to find Roc’s
leftovers.

* * * * *

Forty-five minutes later, Layne quietly
entered Rocky’s bedroom.

“I’m awake and I’m better,” she said softly
from the bed.

Layne walked to her side and sat on it. She
was still curled into a ball, her back to him and she didn’t move.
This wasn’t unusual. He remembered, after she’d battled the pain,
she wasn’t herself, not in a fog but she’d lose a hint of
lucidity.

He leaned over her and put a forearm into
the bed in front of her.

“You need anything?” he asked.

“I’m good,” she answered.

“That pill obviously works wonders,
sweetcheeks, I remember sometimes it’d be hours and it was only
sleep that brought you peace.”

“Yep, it’s the wonder pill,” she
whispered.

“So why do you wait to take it?”

“Because I’m an idiot?”

She was joking and he laughed softly, leaned
in and kissed her forehead. Then he moved away from her, rounded
the bed, closed the curtains she’d left open, pulled off his
clothes and joined her.

He reached out, gathered her in his arms and
she snuggled closer.

“All right, Roc, no jokin’ around, why do
you wait to take it?” Layne repeated his question and she
sighed.

Then she answered, “Hope springs eternal. I
hate those headaches and they don’t come very often so, in between
times, I tell myself I’m done with them, I’ve had the last one.
Then, when they start, I tell myself it isn’t one of those, it’s
just a headache because I don’t want to believe they’ve come back.
Then, well… they come back.”

“You need to take the pill, Rocky.”

“Taking the pill is admitting defeat,
Layne.”

He rolled into her, taking her to her back,
lifted up and looked down at her shadowed face.

“Any battle worth winnin’ is worth using
every weapon available,” he informed her.

“Right, like blackmailing Jarrod?” she
returned and Layne got quiet. When he didn’t speak, she asked,

Did
you blackmail him?”


I
didn’t,” Layne answered somewhat
honestly.

She was silent. Then she whispered,
“Dev.”

Layne didn’t reply.

“What’d you get on him?” she asked.

“Dirty campaign contributions,” Layne
partially answered.

“I can believe that,” she said softly.
“Especially considering he was so pissed. He loves being one of the
good ole boys. He can get pissy but that was off the charts.”

Layne reckoned Jarrod Astley didn’t like
losing, especially not something as important as Rocky. And he also
reckoned the man didn’t like any time when he couldn’t do what he
damn well pleased.

But he doubted that anger was about campaign
contributions.

That kind of anger was about love or money
and not money spent on politics.

Devin had pulled the Marissa card and Astley
was facing paying out twice and losing hold of Rocky, even the sick
hold he had that was essentially just yanking her chain.

So it was both. Love and money.

“He’s settling,” Layne announced and felt
Rocky’s body still.

“Sorry?”

“He’s settling, baby,” Layne told her. “He
says for you to tell your attorneys what you want, if he’s not
happy with it, he’ll counter.”

“Seriously?” she breathed.

“Seriously.”

She was motionless and silent a moment
before she lifted her hand and curled it around his neck then she
lifted her head and touched her mouth to his.

Then she said, “Thank you, baby.”

Thank Christ, she wasn’t pissed, she was
grateful.

So he took advantage. “This means you owe me
and what you owe me is promising me you’ll take that pill the
minute a headache comes on.”

“Layne –”

“Non-negotiable.”

“Layne –”

“I love your hair, sweetcheeks, and my
fingers in it but it isn’t my favorite thing to do, holding it back
while you puke.”

Rocky fell silent.

“You with me on this?” Layne prompted.

“Yes,” she gave in softly.

“Promise,” he pushed.

“I promise,” she stated.

That’s when he grinned and bent his head to
brush her lips with his.

As he was lifting his head, she asked, “Did
you find out where Gaines lived?”

“Five guesses,” Layne replied. “And if one
of them isn’t The Brendel, you lose.”

Rocky gasped then asked, “The Brendel?”

“Yep,” Layne fell to his side and she rolled
into him, pushing him to his back with her body and then lifting
her head and shoulders up but her hand was still at his neck.

“I don’t believe it.”

“Believe it. He either lives here or he’s
visiting his girlfriend who’s got cabbage. He drove straight here,
knew the gate code and I took a stroll, found his car and saw him
close the blinds, a beer in his hand.”

She was silent a moment before she said, “He
doesn’t have a girlfriend. Women can be pretty blind, Layne,
especially when a man is that attractive, but if she goes to church
and sees the way he is with those girls –”

Layne interrupted her. “You think he’s
attractive?”

“Well… yeah,” she answered.

“Roc, evidence is suggesting this guy is
into some sick shit. I saw him kiss a sixteen year old’s neck as
his way of sayin’ good-bye.” He felt her body get stiff as he went
on. “That shit’s not right.”

“I’m not saying he’s attractive, as in, if I
didn’t lay claim to the hottest guy in the ‘burg, I’d go for it.
I’m just saying, you know, technically he’s attractive in an ‘euw,
gross, he’s into sick shit which is too bad because he’s cute’ kind
of way.”

Layne burst out laughing, his arms went
around her and he rolled her again to her back, this time he
covered her torso with his, buried his face in her neck and asked,
“You lay claim to the hottest guy in the ‘burg? Who’s that
then?”

She slapped his arm lightly and whispered,
“Shut up.”

He lifted his head and smiled at her
shadowed face, “No really, I wanna know.”

“Stop fishing for compliments.”

He bent his neck and rubbed the side of his
nose against hers, whispering, “You think I’m hot.”

“You
know
you’re hot, you always
did,” she stated and he lifted his head.

“Yeah, and you always did too, that’s why
you strutted back and forth to the window at Fulsham’s Custard
Stand five times while I was sitting there, eatin’ my cone the
first time I saw you, ‘cause you wanted some of this and got it by
swinging your ass in my face.”

She gasped again. “I did not!”

“Sweetcheeks, you so did.”

“If I recall, I needed a napkin,” she shot
back.


Five
of them?”

“It was a hot day! My cone was melting too
fast for me to eat it.”

“Baby, when you weren’t struttin’, you were
lickin’ and you took your time because that got my attention
too.”

“I forgot how full of yourself you could
be,” Rocky snapped.

“And I forgot about you lickin’ that cone,”
Layne returned. “We’re goin’ to Fulsham’s tomorrow after
dinner.”

“It’s closed for the winter,” she
retorted.

“Then I’m buyin’ ice cream and cones at
Kroger’s.”

“And I’m arranging to be fed intravenously
until the end of my days.”

Layne burst out laughing again and rolled to
his back, taking Rocky with him so she was on top. He knew she
wasn’t seriously pissed and they were playing at bickering when she
scooted down and settled with her cheek to his chest and her arm
around him. He lifted a hand and slid it through her hair, then
again, and repeat.

“Baby,” he called and she mumbled, “Mm?”

“The third time, you said, you needed
Atticus,” he stated and her head and hand came up but only so she
could rest her chin on her hand in his chest and look at him.

“What?”

“In class today, you said the third time you
read
To Kill a Mockingbird
, you needed Atticus,” he felt her
body get tight and he pushed, “when was that?”

“Layne –”

“When was that?”

“I don’t –”

His hand twisted in her hair and his other
arm went around her, pulling her up his chest so they were face to
face.

“When was that?” he repeated.

She was silent and this silence spread.

Then she whispered, “When I lost my
real-life version of him.”

“Jesus,” Layne whispered back instantly.

She’d said,
Atticus Finch is the most
beautiful man I’ve ever met in print. He’s a good dad and he does
what’s right, not what’s safe, not what’s popular. What’s right.
He’s gentle. He’s smart. He’s strong. He’s decisive and he’s
willing to follow through with his decisions, no matter what the
odds.

“Jesus,” he repeated, still whispering.

Rocky took advantage of his immobility and
moved, making her point by brushing her lips lightly against the
scar beneath his shoulder then putting her cheek there, her arm
around his abs, pinning him to the bed.

“You aren’t the same as him, of course,
Atticus wasn’t a badass, or, if he was, he was a quiet one. But
Atticus was about doing what was right and you were too and still
are. And I missed you so, when I read it again, because I was
missing you and I figured I’d never have anything like that again,
it was all about Atticus because if I couldn’t have it, it felt
good to be able to spend time with it in my head.”

She stopped speaking, Layne stared at the
dark ceiling and Rocky’s arm tightened around him.

“You have it again.”

That came from Layne, his voice thick.

“Weird,” she whispered. “I thought it was
perfect but somehow it’s better this time around.”

At her words, Layne was done and he
communicated this by rolling her to her back, covering her with his
body and kissing her hard and deep.

Rocky kissed him back. Then she did other
things to him, he did other things to her and she ended up sliding
out of bed, finding her nightshirt, going to the bathroom, cleaning
up, coming back to bed where she pinned him and fell instantly to
sleep.

Layne didn’t. Layne wanted to believe but he
couldn’t. He’d believed before and his beautiful life was torn from
him.

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