Hold On (The 'Burg Series Book 6)

by Kristen Ashley

  But in that moment, I did not want to give any of that to Merry.

  I wanted to give him nothing but what he needed.

  So I gave it to him immediately.

  “I promise, honey.”

  His small smile got bigger before he said, “Later, Cher.”

  “Later,” I replied.

  His eyes drifted over me, his smile quirked, then he walked out the door.

  I watched him do it.

  Then I went to it and stood in it as I watched him walk to his Excursion at the curb.

  This time, as he drove away, he looked to me and flicked out a hand.

  I lifted mine and returned the gesture.

  When he was gone, I closed and locked both doors. Then, before I allowed myself to have a nervous breakdown or to act all stupid and girlie and shout with glee while twirling or something (I hadn’t been girlie in so long, I wasn’t sure how to do it), I went to my purse and pulled out my phone.

  I maneuvered right to my text string with Merry and stared at the last two texts.

  I fucked us up, baby, and I’m so fucking sorry.

  Don’t text. If you forgive me, come see me.

  The first one I typed in and left unsent.

  Now it was sent.

  The second one didn’t even sound like me.

  I closed my eyes slowly as it came to me.

  Ethan.

  My little man, he so wanted his momma happy.

  I opened my eyes and looked at the texts again, not having that first clue what to do.

  Ethan should not have done that.

  And Merry needed to know it wasn’t me who’d had the courage to take the next step.

  But I didn’t know how to handle either.

  “Fuck it,” I muttered, tossing the phone on my purse. I went back to my vacuuming, doing it with Celine, losing myself in rivers deep and mountains high, knowing when the time came to deal, if I did it right or I did it wrong, I’d still do it.

  Because that was what I did.

  It had always been what I did no matter what messes I got myself into.

  I dealt.

  For me.

  For Ethan.

  And now I’d do it for Merry.

  Chapter Ten

  The Score

  Garrett

  After leaving Cher, Garrett walked up the back steps of the station into the bullpen, carrying two Mimi’s coffees.

  When he hit the top, he did an automatic scan of the space, seeing Drew and Sean in the office with the cap. Adam and Ellen, in uniform, were walking down the front steps.

  And Garrett’s partner, Mike Haines, was sitting at his desk, a desk that was butted front-to-front with Garrett’s.

  Mike had his eyes on him and Garrett moved that way, hitting Mike’s desk at the side to put his coffee down before walking to his own desk.

  “Get your business sorted?” Mike asked as Garrett set his coffee down and took his seat.

  He looked to Mike. “Yep.”

  Mike eyed him, hand wrapped around his coffee still resting on his desk.

  “Can’t get a read on you,” he noted after a few beats. “You either just got a late life offer from the Colts to be their starting tight end or you’re planning to kidnap someone to torture them.”

  Garrett was not surprised Mike got this read. They’d been partners for a while.

  “Accurate on both, seein’ as things are good, as in real good, and I’m still pissed.”

  Mike took a sip of his coffee before suggesting, “Maybe we should start with the good shit.”

  “Takin’ Cher Rivers to dinner at Swank’s tomorrow.”

  Disappointment slid through Mike’s features, his mouth went hard, and he sat back in his chair.

  Mike could read Garrett, Garrett could read Mike. And his read was that this wasn’t about Garrett not sharing with Mike how things were the last week and a half with Cher. Even if he hadn’t said a word, Mike had definitely heard because everyone in town was talking about Garrett, Cher, and Mia.

  But Mike knew him well enough to know that if Garrett wanted to talk it out, he’d do that. So Mike had let it go, waiting for Garrett to come to him if he needed him, or not.

  No, his reaction was Mike knowing Garrett liked to get laid and him thinking that was what was happening here.

  Garrett figured disappointment didn’t slide through his own features, considering he didn’t feel disappointed.

  He felt pissed.

  “You heard talk,” he remarked.

  “Impossible not to hear it unless I locked Dusty and me in a soundproofed panic room the last two weeks,” Mike returned.

  “Well, I can confirm Cher and me hooked up.”

  Mike leaned toward Garrett’s desk, starting, “Man—”

  Garrett leaned forward too.

  “It was that. Then it was not that,” he bit out. “You know me, brother. I’m dumb enough to get drunk with a good woman who’s a friend who means somethin’ to me and fuck that shit up. I’m not that man who would do what you’re thinkin’ to Cher.”

  “You and Mia are—”

  “There is no me and Mia.”

  At the strength of Garrett’s tone, Mike did a slow blink.

  “Straight up, Cher and me hooked up,” Garrett carried on. “That’s what I thought it was. Wasn’t so drunk I didn’t think she knew the score. She did. Problem was, I didn’t.”

  “And what’s the score?” Mike asked.

  “The score is, when I went to J&J’s after we’d had our thing to get us back on track, some trouble Cher was having walked into the bar with bad timing. I saw that shit go down, I asked her about it. But she’s Cher. She’s been fucked over so bad, she doesn’t want anyone to think they can get at her just the same as she doesn’t want anyone to think she needs them. She tried to shut me down.” Garrett shook his head. “When she did that, what we had before and then what happened between us—havin’ her, wakin’ up to her—something in me, brother, it just clicked.”

  “It just clicked,” Mike muttered, still studying him.

  “Near on two weeks, can’t get the woman off my mind.”

  Mike’s eyes grew intent. “What’d you and Cher have before?”

  “You ever known me to get to know a woman before I took her to bed?” Garrett asked. “I’m not talkin’ dating. I’m talkin’ spendin’ years building a friendship with a woman and then takin’ that further.”

  Understanding hit his eyes as he shook his head. “No, man.”

  “No,” Garrett confirmed. “I know her, Mike. I know how she is with her kid. I know how she is with her friends. I can read her voice. Her eyes. Her movements. I know the depths of her loyalty. I know she’d take a bullet for her son. I know she’s got a smart mouth because she’s just fuckin’ smart. She can hang with the guys. She’s about givin’ it all to her girls. She’s funny as fuck. And now I know she has an unbelievable body, though I do not know how because I’ve seen the woman eat and that’s impossible. I also know she’s an outstanding lay. And I know she looks so pretty first thing in the morning, it’s like a goddamned miracle.”

  “Jesus, Merry,” Mike murmured.

  “And I know when I found out she had trouble, that shit started eating at me instantly. Eating at me like shit would eat at me if I knew my sister had trouble. My dad. You. I wasn’t concerned about a friend. I was all in instantly.”

  Mike sat there, mouth shut, continuing to study him.

  So Garrett gave him more.

  “I also know shit is done with Mia, not just because she’s engaged to another man but also because I’ve had time to think on things and I know now she was not the woman I needed in my life—not back then, not in the years we’ve been divorced, not now. She’s not strong enough to handle my shit. She doesn’t have the tools and she doesn’t have it in her to find them. Might be wrong, but my take is Cher was born with those tools. But now, Mia wants to dump her man and try it again with me. I shut that down.”

  Mik
e’s eyes slightly widened.

  “Holy fuck,” he whispered.

  “Yeah. It’s over with her because I got nothin’ left for her, man. I dug deep, but it’s just not there. And now I’m starting something with Cher and that’s all that’s in my head. Doin’ that right. The way it started officially was fucked up, me gettin’ hammered because of Mia. But the way we really started was totally fuckin’ right, bein’ friends and layin’ that foundation so now we’ll have a mind to each other as we take this shot.”

  Mike gave it a beat before he remarked, “This gets to Colt, you better have this speech down, Merry, because if he thinks you’re not in this for the reasons you just gave me, then he’s gonna lose his mind.”

  “Colt knows about the hookup and I’ll explain shit now. I’ll do it once, Mike. He doesn’t know the man I am or the feelings I had for Cher even before this happened and know I’ll have a care, then we got problems.”

  Mike nodded, muttering, “I’ll take your back on that, brother.”

  Garrett didn’t reply. He grabbed his coffee and took a sip.

  “Now, the good stuff done, what’s got you pissed?” Mike asked.

  “You know if Colt gets any assholes up in his shit, writin’ books or anything else to do with Denny Lowe?” Garrett asked back.

  Mike straightened. “He and Feb used to. Think that’s died down.” His head tipped to the side. “Cher still got issues with that?”

  “Former FBI profiler walked right up to her door an hour ago, offerin’ her a grand to have a chat so he can write a book.”

  Mike’s mouth went hard again.

  “What a fuckin’ dick,” he clipped.

  “It happens to her, Mike. Not frequent, according to her, not anymore. But it still happens. Phone calls and visits.”

  “She shut him down?” Mike asked.

  “She started, I finished. But she’s open to that. Wide open. She refused this guy’s calls and he still showed. That ain’t right for her, but she’s got Ethan. She said he doesn’t open the door to that, but it could happen. And that really isn’t right.”

  “Agreed, but I’m not sure what can be done about it. It isn’t a crime, and I don’t wanna piss you off, Merry, but Cher’s a single mom bartender and ex-stripper. Assholes like that’d think she’s open season, not only because she believed Lowe’s shit but because they think she needs the money. Colt probably doesn’t get this ’cause, one, he’s a cop, and two, he looks like he can break a man in half and would, they brought that shit into his life again.”

  “Yeah, that’s exactly why she gets it and that’s exactly why a statement needs to be made she’s off-limits,” Garrett stated, reaching into his jacket pocket to pull out his phone.

  That was when Mike went alert.

  “Brother…” he trailed off, but that one word was cautionary.

  Yeah, he knew his partner.

  “You can either take a walk so you don’t hear this call or I can. Which one’s it gonna be?” Garrett asked.

  Mike studied him again.

  Then he grabbed his coffee, nabbed a file, and took off.

  Garrett engaged his phone.

  He made his call and put it to his ear.

  “Talk to me,” Ryker said in greeting.

  Garrett kept his eyes on the room as he replied, “There’s a man in town, name’s Walter Jones. Ex-FBI profiler who’s writin’ a book on Denny Lowe. He came at Cher. He was shut down. But he’s here ’cause he needs shit. Thinkin’ he knows not to go at Cher again, but she’s got a mom and a kid. They also aren’t the only ones in this ’burg who he could hit to talk about Lowe. Some might not mind talkin’. Most won’t wanna be bothered. He needs incentive to get his ass gone.”

  “You know where he’s stayin’?” Ryker asked.

  “No clue,” Garrett told him.

  “A challenge,” Ryker muttered.

  Not a surprise, Ryker was on board.

  “Can give you this clue—the make, model, and plate number for his vehicle,” Merry told him.

  “Text it to me,” Ryker ordered.

  “For this, you hold a marker or I give you cash. Think on it and tell me which way you wanna go. We’ll talk after you get this done.”

  “Cher’s a sister. This assclown came at her, not down with that. This is a freebie. But, bro, just sayin’, don’t get used to that.”

  Before Garrett could extend gratitude, Ryker disconnected.

  When he did, Garrett typed out the car’s details and a description of Jones, and he sent it to Ryker.

  He didn’t like doing it like that.

  Not the part about setting Ryker on it. He didn’t mind that.

  The part that it wasn’t him taking care of this business.

  But he liked his job and he needed it to keep eating and to get out of his shitty-ass condo, because the time was ripe.

  After the divorce, he’d left the house they’d lived in to Mia and he understood now a part of him was staying in his current place because he expected he’d be going back.

  He also understood now why he’d saved up for a down payment on a place but then he bought a Harley. Same shit happened and he bought a speed boat. Same shit and he got a timeshare in Florida.

  He’d never quit living his life for the now.

  And he packed as much in as he could, eating what he wanted, drinking all he wanted, taking off when he wanted, fucking who he wanted, living how he wanted.

  Just like his sister after their dad got drilled with five rounds from his partner’s gun, the same night their mother was tortured and murdered by that partner when Rocky was hiding upstairs, Garrett lived with the poison in his mind that life would eventually turn. The happy family they had—their mom a beautiful, vibrant woman, their dad a good man in love with his wife and always showing it, Christmases, birthdays, some part of every day filled with all that was right about family—all in one night…gone.

  So he’d lived in the now. He’d gotten rid of the only person in his life who wouldn’t get it like his dad did, like Rocky did, but she was the person who would feel it the worst if something happened to him. After Vegas, he’d made it so Mia would never feel it when that day happened like the poison in his mind told him it was sure to.

  He had no idea how he’d get past that with Cher and her son. If the worst happened to him on the job or just because life sucked, she deserved it even less if she got in deep with him and shit went down.

  He just knew now that poison was in his system, and the woman Mia was, she didn’t have it in her to help him work it out.

  The woman Cher was, she did.

  He’d sorted that in his mind, but that was the least of his baggage.

  He not only needed to start conversations with Cher about what was happening, he needed to have a conversation with Mia.

  She’d fucked things up since he left.

  But he’d fucked things up, leaving her. She’d loved him. It was clear she still felt that. And bottom line, back then, he’d hurt her and he’d played his own part in continuing to do it.

  He had to explain and apologize so they could both move on.

  Mike came back, they went through their cases, decided where they were going to start their work that day, and they were getting ready to head out the door when Sully and Colt hit the top of the back stairs.

  “Merry,” Colt bit out the minute he made the room. “Interrogation.”

  Without another word, Colt stalked toward the side hall where the interrogation rooms were.

  Garrett felt his jaw set and looked to his partner.

  Mike’s eyes were aimed at where Colt was disappearing. He felt Garrett’s gaze and looked to him.

  “Think he’s heard about Swank’s,” Mike noted, mouth twitching.

  “I see that didn’t sit real good with you,” Sully called to Merry. “But my advice, get in there or you’re both gonna get suspended for brawling in the bullpen.”

  Not happy about it but knowing Sully wasn’t wrong, Garrett
got up and walked to the hall.

  He found the door open to interrogation room one, Colt waiting inside, ass leaned to the table, palms pressed to the top beside his hips. Garrett made his statement by not entering the room but instead stopping in the doorway and leaning a shoulder against the jamb.

  He further made his statement verbally.

  “Not a big fan of being summoned, brother,” he said quietly.

  “Cher’s made the calls,” Colt clipped. “All hands on deck with her girls bringin’ dresses to J&J’s she can look over tonight and pick one for her date with you tomorrow at Swank’s.”

  Fuck, he needed to call to get a reservation.

  He made note of that even as he felt his lips curve at Cher doing what Cher did.

  “I see that pleases you,” Colt remarked, not sounding pleased, and Garrett focused on him again. “Probably please you more she made a date for a weekday sleepover for her boy at Meems’s. So rest up ’cause you got all night to tap that real good, brother.”

  His tone was cutting.

  His words were incendiary.

  Garrett battled the burn as he pushed away from the door. “Watch yourself, Colt.”

  Colt’s brows went up. “You’re playin’ with my girl and you’re tellin’ me to watch myself?”

  “No, I’m takin’ my girl out to dinner and I’m tellin’ you, even though I know you’re makin’ a point, you need to watch your mouth when you’re talkin’ about her.”

  Colt’s eyes went intense.

  “Your girl?” he asked.

  “Learned from her, not your business until she makes it. You two are tight. You and me are tight. For her, what she’s got with you, that wins out. So she makes this your business, that’s hers. What you need from me, respect to you as my brother, respect to you as the man who gives a shit about her, I’m havin’ a care. You got my promise on that, Colt. Now, the rest of it, you need to have a care.”

  “I told you—”

  “Her son’s daddy and his bitch are thinkin’ of makin’ a play for her boy,” Garrett cut him off to say. “I found that shit out for her so she could shut it down.”

  “She told me that, but—”

  “This mornin’, a man walked up to her door and offered her a thousand dollars to talk about Lowe.”