“Got it,” Jasper answered.
“You think you need to bag on Youth Group?” Layne asked.
“Naw, we gotta keep on that too,” Jasper replied.
Shit, Jasper was a good kid. But he’d told him that once today and once was enough so Layne just nodded.
“Check in with her regular,” he repeated.
“I said I got it,” Jasper returned.
“Rocky and me’ll take Paige. You follow with Seth in the Charger. We go to their house first, help them get their shit then we go to Cal’s.”
Jasper nodded.
“Control Keira,” Layne ordered. “The woman in our house is humiliated enough. We don’t need Keira sayin’ anything or doin’ anything nutty.”
Jasper’s chest expanded. “She’ll be cool.”
Layne lifted his chin. “I reckon she will.” Jasper relaxed, Layne turned and moved to the door, muttering, “Let’s get lunch and get this done.”
He had a hand on the handle when he heard Jasper call, “Dad?”
He looked to his boy. “Yeah?”
Jasper stared at him, expression hidden except a muscle ticking in his cheek.
Finally, he spoke and the words seemed forced out of him. “I’m glad you’re proud of me.” Layne jerked his chin up and started to turn the handle on the door when Jasper finished. “’Cause I’m proud of you too.”
A new burn ignited, just in his chest, so hot, he was finding it hard to breathe.
His voice was hoarse and low when he said, “Good to have you back, Bud.”
He saw Jasper’s chest was moving like Layne knew his was moving and he knew his son had the same burn inside him so he left him alone to beat it back, turned the handle and walked into the house.
* * * * *
Layne hit the button on the remote and the TV flicked off then he looked down at Rocky’s head resting heavily in the middle of his chest.
Vera was upstairs in Tripp’s bed. Tripp was on an air mattress in Jasper’s room, Jasper in his bed. Gabby had called in to Jas and she was safe at Brandy’s. Stew was wherever Stew was but none of his shit was at Gabby’s. Paige and Seth were at Cal’s old house.
Devin was out, whereabouts unknown, but he was either at J&J’s getting hammered or he was talking a bookie into doing him a favor and laying a fake trail of Coach Cosgrove betting on high school football games as well as giving insider information on when he’d be throwing them. Layne thought this because that was what Layne would do and Devin had taught him everything he hadn’t learned in the field so if Dev felt like playing dirty, Layne reckoned that was how he’d play it.
And Layne was on his back on the couch with a sleeping Raquel, her body half on his, half tucked into the seat of the couch at the back. Her knee was cocked, thigh resting over both of his, her pelvis snug in his hip, her arm was slung along his waist and she’d been out for the last hour.
He moved and her head instantly came up.
“Time for bed, baby,” he whispered and her eyes came to his.
He watched her blink, look around the room and he started to curl up, his arm around her back tensing to take her with him when she pressed into him and her gaze came back to his. Then he settled back when she moved her body so it was mostly on his, only partly in the couch and she crossed her arms on his chest and put her chin on her hands. He’d pulled the clip out of her hair hours ago so it was down, falling around her shoulders and on his chest.
Now she was studying him, sleep still in her eyes, something he couldn’t read with it.
“You know,” she started softly, “I promised I’d live it real.”
“Yeah?” Layne asked when she said no more.
“Well, I’m thinking about going back on that promise,” she told him and his arm around her squeezed.
“Roc –”
One side of her mouth she couldn’t control twitched up and she said, “Layne, if this is your real, I think we should live it fake for Sunday. I’ll wear an apron and make a pot roast and you can put on loafers and we can pretend to be Ozzie and Harriet without seeing disgusting pornographic pictures starring Stew ‘Ick’ Baranski, shaking anyone down, setting up safe houses for victims of domestic violence or sending teenaged kids on undercover assignments at Church Youth Groups.”
He used his arm around her to pull her up his chest, her chin came off her hands, her face came level with his and he gathered her hair in his other hand as he fought back a smile and told her, “Don’t own loafers, sweetcheeks.”
“We’ll go to the mall,” she offered. “I don’t own an apron either, we’ll pick one of those up too.”
“Not a big fan of shopping,” he informed her.
“That’s okay, you can swing by and get me a coffee. I’ll do all the grunt work.”
He used her hair to bring her mouth to his and he kissed her lightly. He did it lightly because she put pressure on his hand and pulled back a little and he watched her eyes move over his face then her hand came up and he felt her fingers at his jaw. She watched as they glided feather light along his jaw, his lips and then over his cheekbone before her fingers slid into his hair at the side of his head, curling around the back and her eyes came back to his.
“I know about you,” she whispered.
“What do you know?” he whispered back.
“You help people,” she was still whispering.
“Rocky –”
She interrupted him. “I know about Kim Kempler.”
“Roc –”
“And I know about Winona Jakobi.”
“Baby –”
“Mostly women, right Layne?” she asked softly and he felt his body get tight.
“It isn’t –”
“Women with kids but on their own,” she cut him off. “Women like your Mom who struggle going it alone.”
“Ma did all right,” Layne reminded her.
“Yeah, because her son got a paper route the minute he could and got a job the minute he could get that. Couldn’t play football, even though you were good, as good as Alec Colton, if not better, because you had to quit when you were fifteen and work after school to help out at home.”
Layne tried to lighten the mood. “I don’t have amnesia, sweetcheeks.”
Rocky didn’t feel like lightening the mood. Her eyes had grown intense and her hand moved out of his hair so she could run the backs of her knuckles against his jaw. She flattened her hand on his cheek and her eyes held his.
“What am I going to do with you, Tanner Layne?” she whispered.
“If you’re open to suggestions, I got a few,” Layne whispered back.
“Do you want real?” she asked suddenly and he didn’t understand the question.
Still, he answered, “Yeah, I want real.”
“How real?” she asked quickly back.
“Lay it on me, Rocky,” Layne invited.
“I didn’t love him,” she returned and his body got tight under hers again. “I talked myself into thinking I loved him, but I didn’t. I liked him. I admired him. He’s brilliant at what he does, he’s passionate about it. I wanted to love him, I tried, but I never did.”
“What I’m hearin’, Roc, he wasn’t an easy man to love,” Layne replied.
“He treated me like shit,” Rocky announced and his arm automatically squeezed her as his hand holding her hair balled into a fist. “That’s why I couldn’t love him, I guess. Because he treated me like shit. For ten years. Even before we were married. And I took that, Layne. I took ten years of it. I took it.”
“You goin’ somewhere with this?” he asked.
“Do you think we’re going somewhere?” she asked back.
“We are goin’ somewhere,” he returned.
She nodded. “Then you need to know what kind of woman I’ve become.”
Layne stared at her a second and he fought it, he really did, but he couldn’t help it and he burst out laughing.
“Layne!” she snapped after he’d been laughing awhile and he
rolled so she was on her back in the couch and he was mostly on top of her. When he got her in that position and kept laughing, she repeated, “Layne!”
“Give me a minute, sweetcheeks, that was fuckin’ funny.”
“I wasn’t trying to be funny,” she hissed.
“Well you were,” he said through waning laughter.
She glared at him then announced, “He’s bad in bed.” Layne burst out laughing again and Rocky slapped his arm. “Stop laughing, that’s not funny!”
“No, baby, you’re right, it isn’t, for you, for me, I find it hilarious,” Layne returned.
“I put up with that too,” she declared stubbornly then went back on it. “Well, I did then I didn’t so I guess it’s no surprise he went looking elsewhere because… well…”
Layne’s body was shaking and his side hurt so he said, “Please, Roc, you’re killin’ me.”
She fell silent, Layne got control of his hilarity and when he did he saw she was staring at him, serious as a heart attack.
“It’s interesting you think the last ten years of my life are amusing,” she noted and Layne sobered instantly and just as instantly gave it to her straight.
“I’m not glad he treated you like shit and I’m not glad he was shit in bed but at the same time I am. I’m glad you didn’t move onto anything better than what we had because I didn’t. Not in bed and not out of it, not ever, not once, not even close. It would suck if you did because that would kill and these last eighteen years without you were bad enough. These last eighteen years thinkin’ you’d gone onto somethin’ good, somethin’ solid, somethin’ that made you happy cut straight to the bone, Rocky. Knowin’ you didn’t is a relief, you should know that and I don’t give a fuck what you think about it, that’s how I feel.”
When he was done, she was still staring at him but her face had changed, her lips were parted and her eyes were intense. But she didn’t speak so he took that at his cue to continue.
“Somethin’ else, sweetcheeks,” he went on. “I know what kind of woman you are, you can’t hide it. So you made shitty decisions. I got blotto a week after you left me, fucked the first woman who came along that night who reminded me of you, the condom broke and she got pregnant. I was drunk but that’s no excuse, it was a shitty decision. I was pissed and in pain, made that decision and bore the consequences. I lucked out and got Jasper and Tripp outta that. You, if you play your cards right, can take his ass to the cleaners and make it so you’ll never worry about money. That’s what you’ll get out of yours.”
“I think, don’t you, that I should just cut my losses and move on. There’s no reason to make Jarrod pay for me not loving him,” Rocky replied.
“Oh yeah… yeah there is,” Layne returned.
“Really? What?”
His face dipped close. “Because he could have made you happy. It was me, you gave me a shot, I’d tie myself into knots to make you happy. He didn’t do that. He treated you like shit, made you feel small and fucked around on you. You think you played him but you didn’t. He might not be any good at fuckin’ but he’s the master at fuckin’ you over and he should pay for that.”
“Layne –” she started, her mouth had gone soft, her eyes had gone half-mast but he was on a roll.
She wanted to talk? They were going to talk.
“Why were you in my hospital room?”
Her body went solid underneath him and she repeated, “Layne.”
His arms gave her a rough squeeze. “Answer me, Rocky, why?” She closed her eyes and he gave her another squeeze on a warning, “Roc.”
She opened her eyes and whispered, “You know why, Layne.”
And that was when Layne watched the tears fill her eyes and one slid out the side, down her temple, into her hair and there it was. He knew it, or he had wanted to know it but he couldn’t be sure but there it was, the proof leaking from Rocky’s eyes.
He lifted his hand, slid his fingers into her hair and used his thumb to wipe the wetness away.
“Yeah, baby,” he said gently, “I know why and now that I’ve reminded you, can we get passed this shit?”
Apparently they couldn’t, not yet.
“You were drunk when you slept with her?”
“Yeah.”
She stared up at him and took in a deep breath then another one until her eyes cleared and she asked, “Why do men do that?”
“Baby, I did it and I don’t even know why I did it.”
She studied his face and then nodded and he felt her body ease under his, something he knew wouldn’t last long because he had to ask so he was going to ask.
“Why’d you leave me?”
Her eyes held his, Layne held his breath and she surprised the fuck out of him when she answered.
“I did it,” she stopped and licked her lips, “and I don’t know why I did it.”
He closed his eyes and turned his head away because that was pure and complete bullshit. Such bullshit, when he was being straight with her, that it pissed him right, the fuck, off. So he started to knife away but stopped when he felt her fingers curl around his neck.
His eyes went back to her.
“You know, right after I left you, two days I stayed in my room at Dad’s house and I don’t remember a second. I don’t remember eating or sleeping or going to the bathroom. I just remember getting up on the third day, all my stuff from our house in boxes and suitcases jammed into my room, and I walked down and Dad was eating cereal. He looked at me and said, ‘Want me to take you back to Tanner?’ and I said, ‘Never,’ and that was it. I don’t know why. I know…” She closed her eyes and Layne held his breath again until she opened them and went on in a whisper. “I know it hurt. I know every day I struggled with it. I know every day I wondered why I was struggling. I know how it felt when you’d call, come over, I’d hear you arguing with Dad or Merry. I know how all of that felt. I remember all of that. I know it didn’t feel good and I knew then that the only way to make it better was to go back to you. I just don’t know why I couldn’t.” The tears came back into her eyes, shimmering for a second before falling and she lifted her head, closed her eyes, pressed her forehead to his and finished. “Until you got shot.” She opened her eyes and, close up, they locked on his. “Eighteen years, every day I struggled against finding a way to connect with you but I couldn’t fight it anymore when you got shot.”
His hand sifted into her hair at the side and he slanted his head and touched his mouth to hers, muttering, “Baby.”
She shook her head and her arms slid around his shoulders, she buried her face in his neck and her body trembled with her tears as she kept talking, her voice rough and thick, difficult to hear and not because her words were hard to make out.
“Every day for eighteen years, Layne, every fucking day. I missed you every day. I’d wake up next to Jarrod and wish it was you, I’d go to sleep next to him and wish it was you.” She pulled her face out of his neck and her eyes hit his but hers were so wet he knew she couldn’t focus on him when she said, “That’s why he said that at the restaurant. He knew. He threw you in my face all the time. We fought about it, God, all the time. Once,” she pulled her hand through her hair then swiped at her cheeks in agitation, “we were making love and he asked me, right in the middle of it, ‘Who do you see, Rocky, do you see me or is Tanner fucking you?’”
Layne had been holding his tongue.
Until then.
Then, he growled, “You are fuckin’ shitting me.”
“No!” she cried and flopped back on the couch, covering her face with her hands. “I don’t blame him.” Her head was shaking side to side. “I don’t blame him.”
“Baby,” Layne’s hands went to her wrists to pull hers away from her face but they moved suddenly, turned to frame his and they held on tight.
“Merry called,” she whispered. “He called me and told me to get to the hospital. He couldn’t go. He was dealing with…” She shook her head. “He told me. He told me you’d been shot.
When I got there, Gabrielle was there with the boys. She was so pissed when she saw me. Jasper and Tripp, they were in a fog, they didn’t even know I was there. But Gabrielle, she was pissed. And I didn’t care. I just sat there until the boys left you and I could get into your room and I sat there until you woke up and I knew you were okay. And that was it. I couldn’t fight it anymore, whatever it was and now…” she stared up at him, “now…” her eyeballs went side to side, “well, now I’m here.”
“Now you’re here,” Layne repeated, her eyes came to his and her hands slid from his face and down to rest on his chest.
“Now, I’m here,” she whispered.
“You play me?” Layne asked and he felt pressure at her hands at his chest before they went away, one folding around the other and she rested them on her chest.
“Play you?” She was still whispering.
“Sweetcheeks, leg of lamb?”
Light dawned and Layne watched her face close down but not before he saw the pain knife through her eyes. “No, Layne,” she said softly. “I didn’t play you.”
Then she shifted as if to slide out from under him but he gave her all his weight, pressing her into the couch and he framed her face with his hands.
“You played me,” he murmured, looking into her eyes.
“I didn’t.” She bucked her back to try to throw him off.
“You played me, just didn’t know you were doing it.”
She stilled under him, held his gaze and announced, “I think I’m sleeping at home tonight.”
He grinned. “Oh no you’re fuckin’ not.”
“I am.”
“You’re not.”
“Layne, I am so get off,” she demanded, bucking again.
His thumb slid over her cheek and down to rest on her lips and his face got close. “No, Roc, you’re not gonna go home. You’re gonna go upstairs and you’re gonna get naked and climb into my bed and then you’re gonna let me do what I want to your body, whatever I want, for as long as I want and, when I make you come, you’re gonna hafta be quiet about it so you don’t wake up Ma and my boys.”
Golden Trail Page 35
