Hold On (The 'Burg Series Book 6)

by Kristen Ashley

  I shook my head.

  “They take Ethan to church?” Merry asked.

  I kept shaking my head.

  “He’s never mentioned it?” Merry pushed.

  I continued shaking my head but asked, “This church bad news?”

  “Haven’t had time to dig deep. Jumped from that to some articles about a couple of community centers and other churches that give space to recovery programs that got together to call the cops to get Faith Saves off the pavement so they don’t bother group members after meetings. But they stick to publicly owned space and they’re peaceful, if irritating, so cops can’t do jack. Haven’t been able to follow it further.”

  I didn’t have any time to sort through this information in my head before Merry kept talking.

  “Trent Schott has priors.”

  I felt my lips part.

  Merry continued to give it to me.

  “Pulled over, suspected DUI, tests showed he was high. Weed. First offense, it was just pot, not much came of it. Got in a fight at a bar that rolled outside that the cops had to break up. His statement reported he was confronting someone who owed him money. They were both hauled in, but no property was damaged. He eventually dropped the charges, so did the other guy, so that slid. Then he was caught with a baggie of ice, not enough to make a big deal about it, so they didn’t. He got community service. He was also suspected in a liquor store robbery, but they didn’t have any security cameras and the clerk on at the time couldn’t positively identify him.”

  I stared at Merry reeling this off, all not so good stuff that could be good for me, and I said nothing.

  Then again, Merry wasn’t done.

  “Last one, strung out, he stole a lighter from a convenience store. Owner was behind the register, and he’d been having some not insignificant gang trouble and having that for a good while. Fed up, he bought a piece, tackled Schott, shoved the gun in his face, and made a citizen’s arrest on the spot. Good news is, he also called the cops to make a proper arrest. Seein’ as Schott only stole a lighter, security footage confirmed that, and he was able to hand that eighty-nine-cent item back to the owner, no charges were filed.”

  Before I could swallow it back, I made a noise that was half snort, half giggle before asking, “Trent was arrested by a convenience store owner?”

  Merry grinned at me. “Tackled then arrested. And the owner was sixty-three at the time.”

  I made the noise again, my shoulders jerking with it.

  Visualization of my imagination’s version of this awesome event hit my head and I couldn’t hold it back any longer. I busted out laughing.

  I did it so hard, I squeezed my eyes shut and wrapped an arm around my stomach.

  I sobered instantly when I felt a warm, strong hand wrapped around the side of my neck.

  My eyes shot open and up to see Merry’s face gentle, without humor, and he was looking down at me.

  “There’s my girl.”

  Uh.

  No.

  I stepped back, running into the bucket chair, so I had to skirt it to get out of his hold.

  His hand dropped, but he stepped toward me.

  I took another step back.

  He took another step my way.

  “Merry, stop moving,” I ordered.

  He didn’t. He kept at me, I kept retreating, but he made his movements while talking.

  “As hilarious as that is, Schott’s inability to outrun a sixty-three-year-old man who has to clear a counter to get to him is not gonna go far with a judge. He might call a recess so he can go to his chambers to have a laugh, but no charges filed, it’ll probably be inadmissible during a custody battle.”

  While he spoke, when I was about to run into my media center, I shifted and Merry shifted with me. I had to make another shift, rounding the room, and Merry did it with me.

  “Merry, stop moving,” I repeated.

  “Not much in the rest,” he continued like I didn’t say a word. “Can’t hide he used, so the DUI and ice won’t be a surprise, and since he’s in recovery and his record has been clean through that, might not get you far. The fight isn’t good. Even if charges were dropped, you might be able to use that to prove he’s got a temper and isn’t averse to using his fists.”

  Through this, my leg hit an end table and I adjusted. We cleared the couch, I shifted again too soon, both my calves hit the coffee table, and my ass went down on it.

  I looked up. Cell flat to the table, I braced my hands to push up, but Merry was there, chin in his throat, eyes on me, and when he spoke again, his mind was clearly on my location.

  “Tried to get your mouth on me more than once when we tore at each other up last Friday, but I was in the mood to use mine. Lookin’ forward to learnin’ what you can do with yours, but like I said, baby, right now, don’t got the time.”

  My only response that he couldn’t twist was to glare at him, which was what I did.

  “But got time before I go for a kiss,” Merry informed me.

  “Only kiss I’ll give you is tellin’ you to kiss off,” I informed him.

  “Who knew warm brown eyes like the ones you got could spark that kind of fire,” he muttered as if he wasn’t even talking to me.

  “Step back,” I demanded.

  “No,” he denied.

  I continued to glare up at him, then I realized I was not the kind of woman who sat on her ass, glaring up at a man towering over her and pinning her in. So I stood, which put me smack in Merry’s space, my breasts brushing against his abs and up his chest on my way.

  They kept brushing when he didn’t move back, but I didn’t attempt escape, even to get away from the shafts of electricity this all caused at my nipples, shafts that headed south.

  I glared at him from closer.

  He stared into my eyes, his gaze moving down to my mouth then back up as one side of his lips curved.

  He was getting off on this.

  I didn’t get that and I didn’t want to get that.

  I wanted this done.

  “In the mood to play, Officer?” I whispered.

  “Told you, sweetheart, don’t got the time.”

  I shook my head but held his gaze. “Not what I mean. Single mom, all alone. Switch out her storms. Offer info to help her out of a jam. Been a while since I was in the know about these things, so tell me, what’s the price for all that? You mentioned a blowjob. You got stamina, but I got talent. Balance that out, I’m thinkin’ it’ll take more than the usual ten, fifteen minutes. We’ll give it twenty. So I can manage my time, is there more?”

  I wasn’t even done talking before I learned his eyes could spark fire too.

  I also learned he was in the mood to play, that being, playing me at my own game.

  And doing it better.

  He dipped his face close, his voice low. “Storms get me the blowjob, brown eyes. I get the intel you need, that buys me sinkin’ deep in wet pussy.”

  I felt my nipples get harder at the same time something else happened to me that, if he was of a mind to take his payoff right then, he’d get what he wanted.

  I hid this reaction and asked, “You want this all in one go, or you wanna spread payback out for a while?”

  “Keep plenty of time open, Cher. I intend to earn a fuckuva lot more and draw it out collecting.”

  I nodded, still keeping a lock on his eyes. “I get it. Girl like me, only payback expected for me to be able to give.”

  That didn’t get me fire.

  That got me ice.

  “I hear you talk down about yourself one more time, Cher, shit will get extreme.”

  That made me ice over.

  “Do not hand me that crap, Merry. You come into my home and got no problem talkin’ about wet pussy right to my face tells me the woman you know me to be.”

  He dipped his face even closer, to the point it felt like if I blinked, my lashes would sweep his in a butterfly kiss.

  “Do not hand me your shit, Cher,” he growled. “That hang-u
p is yours, not mine. And how I know that is I made you come just finger fuckin’ you and talkin’ dirty in your ear, and it was the talk and not what my fingers were doin’ that took you there. I like that, a woman who can let go and let me give her that without gettin’ uptight and closin’ down on me. You liked it too, a fuckuva lot more than me. So don’t stand there handin’ me your shit when I know you’re wet for me now and I haven’t fuckin’ touched you.”

  I refused to reply to that because he was right and I had no intention of confirming that information.

  But it was then he hit me with a verbal blow, the intensity of which, not in my whole shitty-ass life I’d ever received.

  “Christ, if I didn’t know you were worth it, I’d walk out the door and this would be done—all we got, over.”

  I could stand.

  I could stare.

  But I couldn’t breathe.

  Merry could.

  He could also speak.

  “Hope like fuck no one takes off with those storms while I’m gone. You think they will, move ’em into garage and leave the key under the mat. I’m switchin’ ’em out, Cher. I come back tonight and they’re done, I’ll find you, and I won’t be collectin’. I’ll be dishin’ it out, but you won’t get it until you beg for it and do that shit for a really long time.”

  His words were lost on me.

  I continued to stand.

  I continued to stare.

  But my lungs had started burning.

  If I didn’t know you were worth it…

  “When’s Ethan’s next sleepover?” Merry bit out.

  “Friday,” I whispered. “But his friend’s comin’ here.”

  “Fuck,” Merry clipped. “Find a time, babe. You don’t, payback’ll stack up and I’ll have to take personal days and hole up in a hotel with you for a week. And there’s not a doubt that stick-up-her-ass church lady your ex tied his shit to won’t appreciate you bein’ gone from your kid for a weeklong fuckathon.”

  That was kind of funny as well as hot.

  I still said nothing.

  Merry fell silent and stared at me.

  Then he dealt the second biggest verbal blow I’d ever received in my life.

  “Christ, you’re pretty, even standin’ there plotting my murder.”

  After that, he lifted a hand, grabbed me gentle but firm at my neck, yanked me up so my mouth hit his hard but brief, then he let me go.

  “Later, babe,” he said, strolling to my door. He stopped in it, turned to me, and bid his farewell by saying, “You touch those storms only to put them in the garage.”

  He closed the door on that.

  I stood where he left me.

  If I didn’t know you were worth it…

  What was I worth?

  What was I worth to Merry?

  I stared at the door, again breathing but not knowing what to think.

  Not even knowing what was happening.

  How had it gone from a drunken fuck, after which he was going to blow me off, to him investigating Trent and Peggy, demanding I find a time when I could offer his brand of payback, and him not only telling me I was pretty, but I was “worth it?”

  It would seem me and Merry had to have a chat where we were not fighting or talking about my ex and his bitch’s diabolical plans.

  And I would suggest just that to him later, when he’d cooled down and when we were both far apart from each other.

  I left the storm windows where they were. Merry wanted to put them in, at that juncture, I was not going to test his mood by going against his wishes.

  Instead, I went to the laptop me and Ethan shared.

  I powered that baby up.

  Then I found Riverside Baptist Church and its program Faith Saves. I read every word.

  Twice.

  * * * * *

  “Takin’ my last break,” I told Jack, who was behind the bar.

  “Make it a good one,” Jack replied.

  I said nothing and went to the office.

  Mondays during the day were not big days at J&J’s. We had the odd drifter. Weather allowed, we had biker boys who knew J&J’s was welcoming, so if they slid through town, they’d stop to play a couple of games of pool and throw back some brews. We had regulars with no jobs but the miraculous ability to buy drinks.

  I was on early for the week, going nights next week, which was Feb and Morrie’s way with scheduling to make sure Ruthie nor me took a hit from having to do all early.

  Luckily, things looked up around five, and when I did early, I usually got my breaks and lunch out of the way when it was not after five because that was when the tips were made. I didn’t need to be sitting on my ass, eating, when I could be making money.

  Although cops had imprecise schedules, detective shifts were eight to five officially. If anything happened beyond that, the on call cop went in.

  So unusually that day, I waited for my break until six thirty, when Merry was off. The autumn light was waning, which meant the storm windows were probably in before I phoned him.

  He picked up on the second ring, greeting, “Hey.”

  “Hey,” I replied, and it occurred to me that, although we had each other’s numbers, I didn’t think I’d ever phoned him.

  We’d texted things, like him asking me, You bringing that bacon potato salad to Vi’s party? (which meant, bring it, and so I always did), and me texting him, Colts lost. You owe me twenty bucks.

  But I’d never phoned him.

  “Cher?” he called, and I shook my head sharply.

  “Looked up Riverside Baptist Church. That Faith Saves thing looks pretty legit.”

  “They’re not gonna tell everyone on the Internet they’re freaky-ass zealots intent on saving the world by kidnapping recovering addicts and brainwashing them.”

  My hand tightened on my phone, my mind thinking of Trent’s devotion to Peg. “Holy fuck, Merry. Do you think that’s what they’re doing?”

  There was humor in his deep voice when he replied, “Calm down, sweetheart. No. Just tellin’ you as you look into the shit that I feed you, don’t judge a book by its cover. We get it, we won’t go surface—we’ll look deeper. But I’ll do the digging.”

  Okay, right, this was one of several things that had to stop, and to stop it, we had to talk.

  “I have Wednesday and Friday off this week,” I declared.

  “Fuck, I just got the weekend off,” he returned.

  He was thinking I was planning payback time.

  “Can we do lunch on Wednesday?” I asked.

  “Mike and me bought a case this weekend, which means we’re officially over our recommended caseload. Until we clear some, lunch is a memory for me.”

  I moved to the chair at the desk and sat in it before saying, “We need to talk, Merry.”

  “What’re we doin’ right now, Cher?”

  “I’m on a break.”

  “So call me when Ethan goes to bed.”

  “That’ll be late.”

  There was humor in his voice again when he replied, “Not like you aren’t used to late nights.”

  “This talk we need to have needs to be face-to-face.”

  Merry had no reply to that, humor-filled or not.

  I rushed to fill the silence.

  “What we had…before…it was good. We fucked it up. We’re still fuckin’ it up, playin’ these games. We should sit down, talk it through, get back to that good. It’s the best thing for both of us, Merry, and we both know it.”

  He didn’t agree. He didn’t anything, so I rushed to fill that silence too.

  “And Trent said they just wanted to see Ethan more. I didn’t want to talk about it when he was in the mood to push it, and things went south from there. Before I blow it up with them, maybe I should sit down with Ethan and see how he feels about it. He likes his dad, Merry. He likes them both and he digs havin’ a brother and sister. Maybe he actually wants more time with them too and doesn’t want to hurt my feelings by tellin’ me that.”

>   He finally spoke, and when he did, it came gentle.

  “Consider this, sweetheart. Maybe, this bitch has claws, and she’s got more time to sink them into Ethan, that’s not a good idea.”

  This was a concern.

  But it was my concern, not Merry’s.

  “I still think that’s my first step, talking to Ethan.”

  “I hear you. And maybe you’re right. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do what you can to know what you’re sendin’ him into and if that’s healthy or if it’s not. Bottom line, your ex is a junkie. He’s recovering, but that’s still gotta give you pause. I know from the way you reacted that woman freaks you out, and she does that for a reason. Just find out what you’re dealin’ with before you make a deal with them that involves your boy.”

  “Okay, then, maybe I’ll talk to Tanner about doing some legwork.”

  “Tanner’s expensive.”

  This was true.

  This was also my concern, not Merry’s.

  “Merry—”

  “I’m on this.”

  “I don’t want you to be on this.”

  “You didn’t want me to put your storm windows in either, but they’re in. I’ll also point out that you spent your mornin’ lookin’ into the program your kid’s stepmom is neck-deep in, not puttin’ those windows in. I get you know how to go it alone, Cher. In this, you’re just not going to.”

  “That’s my call.”

  “Sorry you think that way, brown eyes, but the call’s been made and it’s not yours at all.”

  Shit, I was getting pissed.

  “This is why we need to talk face-to-face, so I can explain to you I don’t want you in my shit.”

  “You already did that face-to-face, and right now you’re doin’ it over the phone. But, babe, it needs to sink in we don’t agree. I’m in. With your work schedule, mine, and the fact you need to spend time with your kid, we get face-to-face time, we’ll be face-to-face with you on your back and me movin’ inside you.”

  Shit. Now I was getting turned on.

  “You had a window you could slide in there, gorgeous. You timed it right. Now Cher’s closed for business.”

  So much humor was back, his reply of “Right” was shaking.

  That meant I was no longer pissed or turned on.