“Shit yeah,” he replied.
“Oh.”
“You wore my tee to his bed,” Layne stated.
“I missed you,” she whispered.
Layne went still again. Then his head tipped back and he roared with laughter.
“Layne!”
“You wore my tee to his bed,” Layne choked.
“Okay, now I’m thinking it was bitchy.”
“You wore my tee to his bed,” Layne repeated, still choking on his hilarity.
“Stop laughing!”
“Wrapped yourself up in me and slipped into his bed,” Layne went on, his body shaking so hard the bed was moving with it.
He loved this, he loved knowing it, he loved that she did it, he loved everything about it and he didn’t fucking care what that said about him or about her. He just loved it.
“Layne!” she cried. “Stop laughing!”
“Dad!” They both heard Jasper shout and they both went still. “We’re home!”
“Right, Bud,” Layne shouted back. “Have a good night?”
“Yeah!” Jasper was still shouting.
“Hey Dad!” Tripp yelled.
“Hey Pal,” Layne yelled back.
“Hey Rocky!” Tripp kept yelling.
“Hey Tripp!” Rocky was now yelling.
“We’re hittin’ the sack!” Jasper shouted.
“Gotcha,” Layne shouted back.
“See you in the morning!” Tripp yelled.
“Right Pal, goodnight,” Layne yelled back.
“’Night, Dad, ‘night Rocky,” Tripp kept yelling.
“’Night Tripp,” Rocky yelled back and Layne’s body started shaking again.
“’Night Roc!” Jasper shouted. “Later, Dad.”
“’Night Jas!” Rocky shouted and Layne’s laughter became audible.
Still he managed to shout, “Later, Bud.”
He felt Rocky’s eyes on him in the dark and then she said in a horrified whisper, “Jeez, we’re the freaking Waltons.”
At that, Layne roared with laughter yet again.
Saturday, 2:32 a.m.
Tanner Layne slept with Raquel Merrick pinning him to the bed.
He was having good dreams.
Rocky’s eyes opened and she saw only dark.
Dark.
She felt it press into her, like it was physical, a weight, a heavy weight against her skin.
Her breath started to get heavy.
She saw only dark but she felt only Layne.
She let the heat from his body seep into her, feeling his strength under her arm, her cheek, her leg, down her torso.
She pulled in a deep, steady breath and stared into the dark, sucking in Layne’s heat, his strength.
She used him to beat it back, closed her eyes and slept, pinning her man to the bed.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Dark
Saturday, 3:37 p.m.
They were losing her. Towers had followed Jeremy when he was supposed to be going to the church for Youth Group. He didn’t realize he was being tailed and when he didn’t go to church and drove right past, she’d peeled off and gone back to The Brendel.
Colt had called Layne in. Emergency meeting. Jeremy hadn’t been able to get the clients’ names or the dirt on Rutledge and he’d fucked it up, went after it too hard, too desperate and she got curious as to why he wanted to know.
Now they were screwed.
Layne’s phone rang, he pulled it out, looked at the display and saw it said, “Tripp Calling”.
He flipped it open and started, “Yo –”
“Dad, somethin’s wrong with Rocky,” Tripp whispered.
Layne nearly drove off the road at the tone of his son’s voice.
In order to get some work done, he’d left his family that morning with donuts and college football pre-game shows. They were having a special dinner that night and Rocky and Vera were planning the menu. Rocky had called the furniture store on Friday and ordered the furniture, paying extra for express delivery that day. Giselle was going to help them break in the table and Rocky had called Vi and talked her into letting Keira come, even though she was still grounded for two more days, just for the night, just for dinner.
Dave and Merry were coming too.
The whole family.
Rocky, wearing his robe, and Vera had been laughing about some woman shit and clicking through recipes on Jasper’s laptop at the island when he left.
Now something was wrong.
Layne swiftly changed lanes and turned left to circle home.
“Talk to me, Pal,” Layne ordered while he drove.
“I don’t know, the dudes got here with the furniture. They brought in the big couch and then the table. They tore all the shit away from the table and Rocky, she went funny. She stared at that table and she went funny. Then she took off running to your room. It was like Gram knew what was happening and she took off after her. Gram’s in your room with her now and sometimes she shouts. Jasper is upstairs, standing outside your door, he won’t leave it and he didn’t have his phone. He told me to call you and then call Dev.”
“Sometimes she shouts?” Layne asked.
“She doesn’t even sound like her, Dad, it’s…” His voice broke and Layne’s stomach dropped hearing it. “Dad, it’s freaking creepy.”
Fuck.
Layne hooked another left. “What does she say?”
“Nothin’ that makes sense.”
“Tell me what she says, Tripp.”
He was quiet a beat and then he said, “She says she can’t make you do it.”
“Can’t make me do what?”
“I don’t know, Dad, God!” He was getting agitated, or more agitated. “That’s just what she says. Over and over again. ‘I can’t make him do it! I can’t make Layne do it!’”
Jesus fucking Christ.
“Do not let her leave,” Layne ordered.
“Right.”
“Tripp, listen to me, if she doesn’t have her keys, find them and hide them. If she’s got them, talk to Jasper and tell him to do what he’s gotta do to get them away from her. She still tries to go, I don’t care if you have to tackle her and pin her to the ground, do not hesitate, boy, and do not let her leave. Tell your brother.”
“Right.”
“I’m coming home right now.”
“Right.”
“Be there soon,” he stated, flipped his phone closed, flipped it open, scrolled down to Dave and hit go.
“Hey Tanner,” Dave answered.
“Rocky’s turned,” Layne announced and got silence. “Dave, did you hear me? Rocky’s turned. Something’s wrong. Tripp just called, said she’s shouting at Ma about not making me do something and he says she doesn’t sound like Rocky. He’s freaked.”
“I’m on my way,” Dave replied urgently.
“No, no you are fuckin’ not. Talk to me.”
“She needs me.”
“Talk to me, Dave.”
“I’m at the tackle shop in Plainfield, I’ll be there soon’s I can.”
“Dave –”
Dead air.
“Fuck!” Layne exploded, stopped at a red light and waited impatiently, adrenalin surging through his system, so much he could feel it. His hands were shaking, the muscles in his thighs quivering, he was staring at the no turn on red sign like he could make it designate with his eyes. “Fuck,” he whispered.
He turned when he had his shot, the light still red, Layne went right and broke the speed limit by thirty miles an hour, overtaking two cars to make it home. He parked on the street and ran flat out to the front door, opening it, he heard her instantly.
“No!” Rocky shrieked, her voice hoarse, guttural, even as Layne moved to the stairs he felt that voice send a shiver along his skin. “I’ve got to go! I have to be gone before he gets home!”