Golden Trail (The 'Burg #3)(148)

“Are things not good?” Dave asked.

“They’re f**kin’ great,” Layne answered.

“So maybe you’ll explain to me what your f**kin’ problem is,” Dave suggested, losing patience, just like Layne.

“They were f**kin’ great before too,” Layne reminded him.

“She’s not a girl anymore, Tanner.”

“Yeah, Dave, I lived and aged those eighteen years right along with Rocky. And a week ago, I also held her in my arms in the dark while she was beggin’ me to let in the light and felt a fear so disturbing, swear to God, I still feel it on my skin.”

Dave was silent and this silence was loaded.

Layne filled the silence. “I need to know what that shit is.”

Dave didn’t reply.

“I also need to know why both your kids hooked up with people they instantly knew they wanted to spend the rest of their lives with and then dropped them, without a word, without a reason and didn’t look back,” Layne went on.

“Roc looked back, son, you’re together,” Dave argued.

“I think you catch my point,” Layne shot back.

“You need to work this out with Roc,” Dave repeated.

“Jesus Christ, what’s the big f**kin’ secret?” Layne exploded.

Dave changed the subject by shifting blame. “Last time, you let her get away.”

“Bullshit,” Layne clipped, with that incendiary comment, his anger, already primed, was about to detonate.

“You let her get away,” Dave reiterated.

“Wait, wasn’t that you who barred the door the fifty f**kin’ times I came over, wanting to talk to her?” Layne’s voice was sarcastic.

“Why are we talking about this? It’s water under the bridge, you both have moved on and found each other again,” Dave informed him, again shifting the point.

Layne brought it back. “Whatever that was that I felt comin’ from Roc was not history. It was real, it was now and it f**kin’ terrified her. She’s your daughter, man, does this not worry the f**k outta you?”

“No,” Dave stated instantly. “No, it doesn’t. Not anymore. Now that she’s got you.”

“God damn it, Dave,” Layne ground out.

“Can you explain to me why you won’t talk to her about this?” Dave asked.

“Are you serious?” Layne asked back.

“Deadly,” Dave snapped.

“All right, I lost her once and I do not get why, even though she explained it I’ll repeat, I do not get why. This time my boys are in the mix. They like her; they think she’s the shit. The longer they’re around her, the more they’re gonna like her. Then they’ll fall for her, like their old man, hook, line and sinker. The fact that I lost her once and the way you and Merry are actin’ tells me I gotta tread cautiously. You know the landmines you’re dodgin’, I have no f**kin’ clue and you’re not givin’ me shit. I’m walkin’ that minefield blindfolded and any second I can step on one of those mines. I’m stuck, Dave, I can’t move. I move; I could f**k this up. You think I’d do anything, anything, to f**k this up? To f**k this for me, for my boys, for Rocky?”

When Layne finished talking, he listened to silence.

So he prompted, “Dave…”

“Give me time,” Dave said quietly.

“What?” Layne asked.

“I need to think,” Dave stated.

“Jesus, about what?”

“About if this goes bad, I tell you and f**k it up with my daughter, how I’ll play that because, son, I don’t have eighteen years.”

Layne’s neck muscles got tight and he opened his mouth to speak but he heard Dave disconnect at the same he heard the beep that indicated someone walked through the door to the street.

Layne turned his head and looked at the monitor.

“Fuck me,” he whispered, flipping his phone shut and watching Astley’s girl toy, Marissa Gibbons walk up his steps.

He straightened from his chair and was two feet in the reception office when she opened the door and stopped, hand on the handle, staring at him.

Layne crossed his arms on his chest.

Marissa Gibbons swallowed then said, “Uh… hey.”

“Hey,” Layne replied with clipped courtesy.

“Uh… can we talk?” she asked.

“Talk,” he invited and didn’t move.

She stared at him, looked out in the hall, stepped into the office and closed the door. Then she turned back to him, her eyes skidding to the door to the inner office then back to his.

“Could we, uh… sit down?” she requested.

“No,” he denied.

She hesitated, glanced to the floor then back to him and asked, “Can I buy you a cup of coffee at Mimi’s?”

“No,” Layne repeated.

She stared at him and this lasted awhile.

Finally, she whispered, “You think I’m a slut.”

“Is that what you came to talk about?” Layne asked.

“Uh…” she began then faltered and stopped.

“Listen, Ms. Gibbons, I don’t think anything about you. You came here with somethin’ to say, say it. No disrespect, but I’m a busy man.”