“Ryker,” Colt greeted and didn’t hesitate before he sat down at Ryker’s table.

“This guy a cop?” Ryker asked, his eyes locked on Layne.

Layne took a seat at the same time he held Ryker’s eyes.

“Nope,” Colt answered.

“Smells like a cop,” Ryker commented and, even though Colt was a cop, he did this in a way that stated plainly cops were not his favorite people.

“Used to be one, now he’s a PI,” Colt replied.

Ryker’s eyebrows shot up and he kept his eyes on Layne. “A dick?” That was meant to have two meanings and Layne clenched his teeth.

“What he is, for the purposes of this meet, is Gabrielle Layne’s ex-husband,” Colt told Ryker.

Ryker’s eyes cut to Colt. “Who the f**k is that?”

“Stew Baranski’s woman,” Colt answered.

Ryker grinned, he knew who she was but he still asked, “Fat bitch?”

“Ryker,” Colt said low.

“Dumb bitch.” Ryker refused to read the warning.

Layne was done so he entered the conversation.

“She and I have two boys, one of ‘em saw Baranski hand off an envelope to Carlito at the house. Gabby tells me Stew has troubles. You know anything about that?”

Ryker’s eyes sliced to Layne on the words “two boys” and he waited a beat before he answered, “I know Carlito is a f**kwad.”

“I know that too,” Layne returned.

“And I know Baranski is an assclown,” Ryker went on.

“Yeah, you aren’t tellin’ me anything I don’t know,” Layne informed him. “Not here to find out shit I know, I’m here to find out what’s goin’ on because I’m not a big fan of my boys witnessing Baranski makin’ a payment to a loan shark.”

Ryker grinned. “That wasn’t no payment.”

Layne didn’t like the sound of that.

“So what was it?” Layne asked.

“Wasn’t no payment,” Ryker answered.

Layne studied Ryker then looked at Colt.

“Ryker, you got somethin’, it’d help Layne out,” Colt prompted and Ryker’s eyes went from Colt to Layne.

He examined Layne for a long time before he asked, “Which one?”

“Come again?” Layne asked back.

“Which boy?”

Layne felt the muscles in his neck contract. “Not sure that’s relevant, man.”

Ryker didn’t let it go. “The one that tagged that sweet catch and, after, caught it from that dickhead coach who should have his nuts in a vice or the one who can block like that fat bitch pushed him out while he was wearin’ shoulder pads?”

Christ, this f**kin’ guy was a Bulldogs fan.

“Jasper,” Layne knew at that moment it was safe to say. “My older boy. The one who can block.”

“Got quick feet, hasn’t seen the ball in two games,” Ryker noted. “You doin’ somethin’ about that?”

“All I can do,” Layne replied.

“And what’s that?” Ryker pushed.

“The School Board is investigating my complaint,” Layne answered and when he did, Ryker threw back his head and barked out his laughter, something Layne didn’t appreciate all that much but he held his tongue.

When he was done, Ryker tipped his chin down and leveled his eyes on Layne. “You give me the word, sport, I might find it in me to convince the coach to let both your boys see the ball. No marker to be paid, I’d give you that for free.”

Jesus.

“I like my way of doin’ it,” Layne told him.

“Scouts not gonna get the full picture, your older boy’s a senior, that motherfucker’ll f**k him up.”

“I still like my way of doin’ it,” Layne repeated and it was far more firmly this time.

Ryker watched him awhile then he shrugged.

Layne brought the matter back to hand, saying, “How much is Baranski into Carlito for?”

“Nothin’,” Ryker answered immediately and Layne’s brows drew together.

“Nothin’?” he reiterated.

“Nope, he was, dickhead’s shit at the dogs, but he ain’t anymore.”

Layne felt Colt’s eyes on him and he turned to meet his gaze.

Then Colt looked at Ryker. “You wanna fill in that picture?”

Layne looked back at Ryker too and Ryker leaned forward, putting a tattooed arm on the table.

“He got deep with Carlito, so deep he couldn’t get out,” Ryker shared. “So, instead of Carlito takin’ it out on Baranski the normal way, he put Baranski to work. Baranski liked this work so now he’s doin’ it part-time.”

Then he leaned back and stopped talking but Layne knew what he was saying and Layne knew why Gabby asked him to take the boys for extra weeks, even though she probably didn’t know why. Carlito was undoubtedly a frequent visitor and, even if Gabby wasn’t full in the know, she’d read Carlito and wouldn’t want the boys around that. And, lastly, Layne was struggling against the urge to hunt down Stew Baranski and beat him bloody.

He won his struggle and sought confirmation. “Stew is Carlito’s enforcer?”

Ryker nodded once. “One of ‘em, yeah.”

There it was. Confirmation.

Fucking shit.

“You are shittin’ me,” Layne whispered but he knew Ryker wasn’t.

Ryker confirmed this too and grinned while doing it. “Nope.”

Layne turned his head to Colt. “That ass**le’s livin’ with my boys.”

Layne was addressing Colt but Ryker answered, “Yep,” and Layne’s eyes went back to him.

Then he told Ryker, “Done my homework, Ryker, and Baranski hasn’t been payin’ bills and neither has my ex.”

Ryker shrugged again. “Why would he? He’s got a sweet ride. She’s fat and she’s nothin’ to look at but she keeps him fed. Pays his bills,” he grinned again, “or maybe she doesn’t but she tries. She’s good cover, all respectable, single mom, two boys.” He tipped his head to Colt. “Means even the cops don’t know about his leisure activities. Leaves him free to do his job and gives him the opportunity he didn’t have before to use his money and his take from Carlito to live his life as he wants to and to keep his other piece sassy. Figure, he got hooked up with your ex because no one else would suck his dick but lotta women will suck your dick you got the money to pay ‘em to do it.”