“Jeremy bought us a few more days,” Layne told him. “Heard it when I was listenin’ this morning.”

“Well, let’s hope she f**ks up before he cracks. Read up on him too. Small time con, not too bright, stupid recruit for her but maybe not, since she’s made him nearly the sole face of this shit so he’s also the perfect fall guy. It’s a miracle he hasn’t disintegrated before now.”

That was precisely what Layne was worried about.

Colt’s voice dropped lower. “This shit moves a lot faster, your source comes out in the open.”

“I told you, I told Merry, that can’t happen,” Layne replied just as low.

“Tanner –”

“We still have no evidence, we don’t have the location of her stable, we don’t have a lock on her army and we don’t have anything to connect her to Rutledge except the word of a small time con and whatever the f**k Ryker is and Ryker only saw Rutledge visit the apartment once. My girl would be swinging in the wind and, trust me, brother, you’d never hold Towers on the word of my source and without any evidence, she wouldn’t even go to trial. We need patience.”

“We don’t need patience, Tanner, we need time and I’m guessin’ a coupla days isn’t gonna get us shit. Goulding is gonna cave and she’s gonna bolt.”

“You got any bright ideas?” Layne asked.

“Only one I got is not bright, it makes my teeth hurt and leaves a bad taste in my mouth,” Colt answered.

“Set up one of the girls,” Layne muttered.

“Not gonna happen,” Colt muttered back.

They shared unhappy silence until Layne broke it. “Patience.”

“Prayer,” Colt returned. “They used God, let’s hope He feels motivated to lend us a hand.”

“I’ll get Vera on that,” Layne offered.

“Yeah,” Colt replied, one side of his mouth up in half a grin.

Layne opened the door and walked out.

Colt followed.

Layne nodded to men he knew as he walked through the bullpen on his way to the backstairs. He pulled out his cell as he jogged down the stairs and was out the door and nearing the Mercedes when Rocky picked up his call.

“Hey sweetheart,” she answered.

“Hey baby, where are you?”

She’d called and told him that Spike had relieved her, she’d gone down to Mimi’s, ran into Feb and since she was rideless and Layne was busy, she and Feb were going to hang.

“At Vi’s. Where are you?”

“On my way to Vi’s,” he replied, folding into her car.

He heard her soft laugh then it went away and she asked, “Everything okay?”

“It will be.”

A pause and then, “That’s not a great answer, Layne.”

“Best I can do for now, sweetcheeks. I’ll brief you when we get home. Is it your house or mine tonight?”

“Mine,” she replied immediately.

“You don’t like the toothbrush Jas bought you?”

She burst out laughing and Layne listened to it thinking Rocky’s laughter made a day of good and bad turn mostly good again.

When she got it under control, she answered, “No. My house doesn’t have Devin and Vera in it.”

Oh shit.

“I thought you and Mom were cool.”

There was nothing for a few beats and then he knew why when she spoke quietly. She’d been looking for privacy.

“Vera and I are cool. But not so cool I suspect she’ll be happy to hear her son making me moan and I enjoy you, baby, but I don’t want to court suffocation every time we have sex.”

This meant Layne was going to get him some that night. This wasn’t surprising, eighteen years had done nothing to shear even a layer off Roc’s sexual appetite, or Layne’s. But that didn’t mean the promise of it didn’t feel f**king great.

Shit, it was almost over but the day kept getting better.

“Good call,” Layne muttered and twisted the key in the ignition.

“See you soon,” she replied.

“Absolutely.”

Layne flipped his phone shut, put the Mercedes in gear and backed out of his parking spot.

Then he flipped his phone open, scrolled down to Jasper’s number and told his son just enough so his boy would sleep in peace that night.

Chapter Twenty-Four

The Man You Would Become

Monday, 5:12 a.m.

“Layne,” Rocky breathed, one of her hands in his hair, cupping the back of his head tight, one of her arms caught under his body, her fingers curled into his ass.

“That’s it, baby,” Layne whispered, watching her face in the shadows as his fingers toyed with intent in the wetness between her legs.

“Oh God,” she breathed, her back arching, she was close.

“Give it to me, Rocky,” he ordered.

Her fingers clenched his ass.

“Come inside,” she begged.

“After you come.”

“Now, baby, please,” she whispered.

“After.”

Her h*ps ground into his hand. “I want your cock.”

“You’ll get it.”

“Oh God.”

“That’s it.”

“God, Layne.”

“That’s it, baby,” he whispered, dropped his head, took her nipple between his lips and pulled hard.

That did it, her back left the bed and a ragged moan tore from her throat.

Layne’s fingers left her pu**y, he rolled over her, her legs spread wide for him even as she was coming and his f**king cell phone rang.

“No,” she whispered.

“Fuck, you gotta be f**kin’ shittin’ me,” Layne growled, kept himself seated between her legs and reached out for the phone.

He turned it to face him, saw what was on the display and growled again, this time with no words.

Then he flipped it open and put it to his ear.

“This better be f**kin’ good.” He was still growling.

Rocky lifted her knees, pressed her thighs against his sides as her arms wound around his back, the tip of his c**k slid through her wetness and Layne clenched his teeth.

“Did I wake you?” Sully asked.

“No,” Layne grunted.

Silence then, “Oh.”

“Sully,” Layne rumbled.

“Right, okay, well, thought you’d want to know. Adrian Cosgrove is incarcerated. Chris Renicki and Marty Fink found him about two hours ago. He had enough Rohypnol on him to roofie the entire junior class. Possession of an illegal substance, conspiracy to commit a felony, violating his bond agreement –”