v Ashley - Golden Trail

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 then 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.

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 still 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.”

Her torso jerked back.

“That’s… that’s impossible,” she stated but he knew by the look on her face, her anger dying, understanding dawning, she knew that was a lie.

“Well then, I watched his twin beat the shit outta some guy last night while I was takin’ pictures. Then I watched him celebrate with a chick he keeps at the trailer park on the southwest of town.”

Layne watched the blood drain out of her face and she was a bitch and he didn’t much like her but she was the mother of his sons and he fucking hated doing this to her. But he had to; she’d given him no choice.

“He’s bad news, Gabby,” Layne went on. “We don’t need our boys around that and I don’t need my boys’ Mom around that. You deserve better. So I made it so he did right by you with that money,” he tipped his head to the envelope, “and now he’s gone.”

She stared at him and then her hand clenched the envelope. “Tanner –”

He shook his head and interrupted her again. “We don’t need to process this. It’s done. The boys stay with me this week and you go stay with Brandy. The whole week. You put two K of that in your account and you use that, your pay and what I pay you to take care of your bills. When you buy groceries or anything else that takes cash, you use that money. You put no more than two K of that in your account, Gabrielle. The rest of that money stays under the radar. Are you clear on all that?”