Hold On (The 'Burg Series Book 6)

by Kristen Ashley

  And Carlito Gutierrez was a scary guy. Unless you had a solid deal with the Feds or a beef with him and were capable of laughing in the face of death like Ryker, you didn’t give him up.

  “Right now, Gutierrez is scrambling,” Faria carried on. “We’re coordinating our men to make arrests before that scrambling takes anyone to Mexico. In the meantime, we need to get Mr. Cutler into protective custody. This is something that’s being arranged as we speak. And when the arrests are made, something we hope will happen this afternoon, we’ll turn over what we know about who may have killed Wendy Derian.”

  “As you can see, we’re up to our necks in it. Lots of shit to do and not a lot of time to do it. So this, right here, is a courtesy,” Harleman added, pointing to the floor to indicate the meet. “With that, we’re askin’ you to return it and curtail your investigation until this afternoon.”

  “A courtesy,” Mike muttered irritably.

  Garrett was irritated too.

  However, he, like Mike, was aware that the RICO case took precedence and there was no way in hell their cap would let them push the homicide at this juncture. But it didn’t matter. They wouldn’t do it anyway. Especially not when their suspects would be hand delivered within hours.

  So he didn’t focus on that.

  He looked to Tanner and asked, “How is any of this funny?”

  “None of that is,” Tanner replied.

  “So what’s funny?” Garrett asked.

  “Bro, serious as shit, you were hung up on that ex-twat of yours and takin’ way too long.”

  This came from Ryker, and it was so out of left field considering what was being discussed, Garrett braced.

  “Come again?” he asked Ryker, who was looking up at him from his chair, mouth wiped clean but powdered sugar still all down his front.

  “It was drivin’ Lissa crazy,” Ryker said in answer, an answer that wasn’t an answer.

  “Explain, Ryker,” Garrett clipped.

  “Two birds.” He tipped his head to Cutler. “One stone.”

  “Come…” Garrett bent slightly toward Ryker. “Again?”

  “Right, son, Cher’s so into you, the minute you hit that bar, it was lit up in neon, right there in front of your face for everyone to read,” Ryker declared.

  Garrett’s body got tight.

  “Everyone but you,” Ryker carried on. “You were so hung up on your ex, completely fuckin’ blind. Finally, that woman tags another guy with her ball and chain, you pull your head outta your ass long enough to tap Cher’s. Problem is, after, you two start fuckin’ shit up. Lissa got worried. So when Cher called me and she heard shit comin’ down the way from someone I got on a string…”

  He shrugged, threw out a hand, and said no more.

  Garrett clenched his teeth.

  Tanner urged helpfully, “Think the man needs more, Ryker.”

  “Fuck, gotta spell it out? Okay,” Ryker muttered impatiently.

  He straightened in his chair and looked back up at Garrett.

  “I made a big deal of it, but it wasn’t a big deal.” He tossed a beefy mitt Cutler’s way. “He’s an assclown and he was part of Carlito’s operation before and after he turned rat. But that didn’t have shit to do with shit. I made a big deal of it, freakin Cher out, thinkin’ once you got wind of it, you’d make a big deal of it and swoop in to the rescue. Don’t know what the fuck happened with that ’cause it took you a long time to get wind of it. Doesn’t matter. I’ll point out now I wasn’t wrong, seein’ as shit went down and now she and her kid are livin’ with you. This means both your heads are outta your asses and my job is done.”

  Garrett stared at Ryker.

  “Lissa’s over the moon, which translates to more blowjobs for her old man, and seein’ as my baby’s got unqualified talent in that arena, I’m thinkin’ this matchmaking shit is gonna be my new gig,” Ryker finished.

  “You lied to Cher in order to freak her out, which you hoped in turn would tweak me so I’d protect her and Ethan?” Garrett said low.

  “Merry, brother,” Tanner put in calmingly, and Garrett could hear him straightening from his chair, but he didn’t take his eyes off Ryker. “You give this a second, you’ll see this is the amusing part.”

  Garrett didn’t give it a second.

  “You lied to Cher in order to freak her out,” he stated.

  “Dude, heard you saw to this, but in case you didn’t get it through to her, your bitch needs to learn to share. No way I’d be down with Lissa keepin’ somethin’ like that from me, even if I’d lose my motherfuckin’ mind, I knew what it was. There’s a firmer foundation in a relationship if there’s open communication,” Ryker advised.

  “You are sittin’ right there, giving me relationship advice.” With his remark, Garrett’s voice was not just low, it was vibrating.

  Ryker’s brows went up. “You get laid last night?”

  Garrett stared at him.

  “This morning?” Ryker pushed.

  He felt Mike close to his side.

  “Yeah,” Ryker muttered, grinning a lunatic grin, eyes locked to Garrett. “I woulda bet with her dry spell, Cher likes it like that. Catchin’ up.”

  In a blink, Garrett had shoved Mike off and was leaning over Ryker, who he had pressed to the top of Tanner’s desk, Garrett’s fist in his tank, both of Ryker’s hands wrapped around Garrett’s wrist.

  “Stand down, Merry,” Mike warned.

  “You played head games with my woman?” Garrett whispered.

  “Dude, get off me,” Ryker whispered back.

  “You played…head games…with my woman,” Garrett growled.

  “Brother, calm down,” Tanner ordered.

  “Lissa likes you both,” Ryker told him. “She wanted you happy. She wanted you happy with each other. And I want my woman happy. So I did what I did to make her happy and you and your woman got what you deserved outta that. Now, with all that, what the fuck’s your problem?”

  “Did you tell that guy to hit on her?” Garrett asked.

  “Fuck yeah,” Ryker answered. “Hello?” he called sarcastically. “You were taking too long. Fuck, after you nailed her the first time, it took you over a fuckin’ week to take the bitch on a date.”

  Garrett drew in a sharp breath through his nose.

  “Let him up, Merry,” Mike urged.

  He stared Ryker in the eye, knowing if Ryker wanted to throw down, things would be messy and no way could Garrett pin him to the desk for this long.

  He didn’t need messy.

  He was not close to finding this amusing, but he had culinary brilliance to look forward to that night and he didn’t want to do it through cut lips.

  He straightened, pulling Ryker with him.

  He let him go and stepped away.

  Ryker gave him a scowl, then looked down to smooth his tank.

  His head shot right back up. “Fuck, why didn’t anyone tell me I got powdered sugar on my tank?”

  “For fuck’s sake,” Tanner muttered.

  Garrett looked to Cutler. “You broke it off with Wendy to keep her safe.”

  Cutler was not enjoying the show. Cutler wasn’t looking forward to going where he was soon going to go. Cutler was undoubtedly eventually going into WITSEC so he’d soon stop being Jaden Cutler in order to start being another guy in another town, starting from scratch and hoping like fuck Carlito never tracked him down. Cutler was also not looking forward to doing what he undoubtedly made a deal to do—testify against Carlito.

  And Cutler was grieving the death of a woman he cared about.

  “Didn’t work,” he grunted.

  Garrett eyed him.

  Then he muttered, “Sorry for your loss.”

  “Sorry I fucked with you and your woman,” Cutler returned, his eyes sliding to Ryker then back to Garrett. “But you get in deep with that motherfucker, you gotta suck up whatever markers he calls.”

  After he said that, he lifted his hands to indicate the room, which clearly said the state o
f play with the Feds and him was all Ryker.

  “Ride’s here, Jeff,” Faria announced.

  “We done?” Harleman asked, his gaze swinging between Mike and Garrett.

  “We’ll have a chat with our cap and expect a phone call later this afternoon,” Mike answered.

  “Hope you’ll get one, which means we’ll be done,” Harleman murmured, looked to Cutler and said, “Let’s go.”

  Cutler moved, not surprisingly, without handing out hugs or heartfelt good-byes.

  Harleman moved with him.

  Tanner, Ryker, Mike, and Garrett watched.

  Faria dragged her heels.

  They heard the door to the offices close behind Harleman and Cutler and then they saw Faria stick her head back through Tanner’s office door.

  She looked to Garrett.

  “You won’t find this amusing either, but that doesn’t mean it’s not interesting. Name you’re gonna get on who did your vic is a name you ran four days ago. We couldn’t say it so Cutler wouldn’t know it. We only lost track of one soldier Wednesday morning. It was Paxton who did your girl.”

  With that, she took off.

  “Fuckin’ hell,” Garrett muttered.

  “Not that I give a shit,” Ryker started, and Garrett swung his attention to him to see the big man looking at him, “but Lissa’ll be pissed if she’s uninvited to Ethan’s birthday party. We good?”

  “We aren’t,” Garrett answered immediately. “But I’ll suck it up and pretend so Ethan can have whatever present Lissa buys him.”

  “Good call. She’s generous,” Ryker muttered.

  “I know,” Garrett muttered back.

  “What I wanna know,” Mike stated at this point, eyes to Ryker, “is how you got the balls to buy Hilligoss prior to a meeting and not bring enough for everyone?”

  “Place ain’t closed. You want a donut, go buy a donut,” Ryker shot back.

  “It’s common decency, man,” Mike returned.

  “I ain’t common and I ain’t decent,” Ryker decreed.

  No truer words were spoken.

  “Just sayin’, we all got shit to do, so how ’bout we all go our ways and do it?” Tanner suggested.

  “Good idea,” Garrett agreed.

  He and Mike headed to the door.

  As they did, Garrett made no reply and just kept on walking when Ryker called out, “You can thank me later, sport.”

  They were in line at Mimi’s when Mike started chuckling.

  “Don’t start,” Garrett warned.

  “Jesus. Ryker, a matchmaker,” Mike murmured, the words shaking with humor.

  As they hit the front of the line, Garrett lifted his chin to the girl behind the counter, who had blue hair, and said to Mike, “He sucks at it.”

  “Don’t know, Merry, you get laid last night?”

  Garrett turned to Mike.

  “This morning?” Mike asked.

  Garrett said nothing.

  Mike watched his partner be silent a beat.

  Then Mike burst out laughing.

  * * * * *

  Garrett had the door to his condo open barely an inch before the smell assaulted him.

  He didn’t even have to eat it to know it was brilliant.

  He pushed through, saw Cher in his kitchen, Ethan on his couch, and two sets of bright, happy brown eyes turned his way.

  One set smiled.

  The other did as well.

  But the mouth under it shouted, “Merry! Guess what?”

  He grinned at his woman, then turned that grin to her son.

  “What, bud?” he asked, throwing the door closed behind him and walking to the dining room table, shrugging off his suit jacket.

  “One hundred percent on my geography test,” Ethan declared, turning on the couch to get on his knees in order to share this exciting news facing Garrett fully.

  He threw his coat around the back of a chair but didn’t take his eyes off the boy.

  “Right on, Ethan.”

  “Give me a mountain range,” Ethan ordered.

  “Andes,” Garrett said, moving toward Cher.

  “South America!” Ethan cried. “Another one.”

  “Alps.”

  “Europe! Another!”

  Garrett made it to Cher and slid a hand from her waist to the small of her back, but he didn’t take his attention from her kid. “Himalayas.”

  “South Asia!” Ethan yelled. “Now give me a hard one.”

  Fuck, he didn’t know a hard one.

  “Ural,” Cher muttered under her breath.

  Someone had helped her kid study.

  He pressed his hand in and called to Ethan, “Ural.”

  “Russia!” Ethan shouted.

  “Impressive, buddy,” Garrett declared.

  “One hundred percent, impressive,” Ethan decreed.

  Garrett chuckled before he requested, “Mind if I say hey to your mom?”

  “Sure,” Ethan allowed, twisting back to land on his ass on the couch. “Just not too gooey.”

  He was still smiling when he turned to Cher.

  That smell.

  Her right there in his kitchen, looking pretty.

  Her kid giving him the best welcome home he’d had in years, even though he hadn’t even said hello.

  All that, Garrett wanted to give Cher more than gooey.

  Ethan right there, he couldn’t.

  But with what he did give her, he managed to touch his tongue to hers briefly before he lifted his head.

  “Hey,” he murmured.

  “Hey, gorgeous. Good day?”

  It had been a good day.

  He’d had an important conversation with his father that settled his soul and maybe, he hoped, neutralized the poison in his gut for good—or at least made it so he could manage it.

  He’d discovered his woman and her kid were never in any danger, but now they were really not in any danger with Carlito and his crew picked up and being processed on RICO charges.

  And it was looking good that Wendy Derian’s killer was behind bars with the RICO haul. The gun in the suspect’s possession was the caliber that did Wendy, had been recently discharged, and Robert Paxton didn’t have a firm alibi for the time of her murder. He was also in possession of her cell phone.

  Jake still had to run ballistics, but during interrogation, Paxton gave Mike and Garrett indication he may roll over on a variety of things, including being ordered to carry out the hit on Wendy, doing this in order to make things tougher for Carlito but easier on him.

  He didn’t tell Cher any of that.

  He said, “Yeah. More later.”

  She studied him a beat before she nodded.

  “You gonna tell me what that smell is?” he asked.

  “Garlic cheddar chicken, buttered noodles, fresh rolls from Kroger, and…” She dipped her voice quiet. “Green beans.”

  “I heard that,” Ethan called.

  She smiled up at him, not having moved from the curve of his arm, not an inch.

  And he saw it. There in her face. That look he had memorized. That look, part of which she’d given him over and over for years and he’d been too blind to see.

  That look now he’d never forget

  She was happy. She was safe and happy.

  And the part that had been his for a long time and he didn’t notice.

  She was in love with him.

  He lifted his free hand to slide it into the side of her hair as he took that look in.

  He was wrong.

  She wasn’t prettiest first thing in the morning.

  She was at her prettiest any time of the day when she was looking into his eyes.

  And hers were happy.

  And in love.

  * * * * *

  Ethan

  Ethan looked from the TV to his mom and Merry in the kitchen.

  They were being gooey, standing close, staring into each other’s eyes, Merry’s hand in his mom’s hair by the side of her face.

  Totally g
ross.

  Even after witnessing the gross, when Ethan looked back at the TV, he did it smiling.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Overachiever

  Cher

  Late Thursday Evening

  In my cami and pajama bottoms, I sat cross-legged in Merry’s bed, facing Merry.

  He had his back to the headboard, his body stretched out, his chest bare, the covers pulled up to his hips.

  And he’d just shared his day.

  For once in my life, I was at a loss for words.

  But, being me, it didn’t take long before I found some.

  “That BMW bitch…she have dark hair cut short and look-at-me-I’m-loaded sunglasses?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” he answered.

  I knew her. She’d honked at me too. More than once.

  “I’ve seen her wear those glasses during a thunderstorm,” I shared.

  Merry said nothing, just kept looking up at me with half his mouth hitched up like he thought I was cute or something.

  “You got outta your car, flashed your badge, and gave her shit?” I asked.

  “Yep,” Merry answered.

  So…totally…fucking…loved this man.

  “You do something like that with me around to witness it, straight up, a month of blowjobs at your command,” I announced. “Any time. Anywhere. Swear. You give the word, I’ll drop and suck you off better than you’ve ever had it, baby.”

  His hand, resting on my knee, slid down the side of my thigh as he shifted down the bed and slightly to his side. He caught me at my hip and gave a tug.

  I fell forward even though I could have righted myself. I knew what he wanted, so I didn’t.

  I uncurled my legs and stretched out on top of him.

  We ended with one of his hands on my ass, the other sliding up my back, both of mine trapped between us on his chest.

  “You’ve already given me that, Cherie,” he muttered.

  I’d given him the best head he’d had?

  Awesome.

  “Then I’ll give it my all to give better,” I vowed.

  He smiled, his hand sifted into my hair, and he pulled me down for a short, hard kiss.

  He released the pressure and I lifted my head.

  “You got no reaction to that Ryker shit?” he asked quietly.

  I did.