“Hi, peanut,” he greeted, tweaking her nose and accepting the cup of coffee I handed him. “I did. Had some stuff to work on.”
“How about some Sesame Street, Ri?” I offered, knowing I needed to distract her while I caught up with Gun.
Her squeal of delight was all the response I needed, and I quickly had her zoned in while I returned to the griddle, my attention on Gun.
“What’d you find out?”
“Shit’s fucked,” he muttered. “Took me a while to find the photos we need.”
“What did you find?” I pressed impatiently.
“Looks like she captured some sort of payout between one of the Black Riders and a suit. Rider looks to be pretty low level, so it’s possible those two were acting alone.”
“Who’s the suit?” I pressed.
He rubbed a hand over his closely shorn hair. “Fucking assistant DA Grant Palmer,” he muttered.
It took a second for that to sink in. “Holy shit. You’re telling me the assistant DA is on the take?”
“That’s what it looks like,” he confirmed. “Probably has some deal with the Riders to keep them out of jail. It’s obvious why Layla wasn’t aware of anything,” he added, pausing to take a sip of his coffee. “Assholes were way off in the distance. Probably didn’t even know she was there until someone tipped them off that she was taking photos.”
“Probably whoever got her the gig,” I muttered. “I’ll find out.”
He nodded. “Ironic fucking thing is, if they hadn’t gotten wind someone was there takin’ photos, it would’ve come to nothing. She wouldn’t have known she had anything to begin with. How do you want to play this?”
“I want to get with Cole. Riders need to know Layla belongs to me. She should be off-limits if they’re gonna respect the deal Cal made all those years ago. They don’t want a war on their hands with us. As for the ADA, I don’t give a shit if he’s crooked. I just want him to back the fuck off. If we have to deal with him too, so be it.”
Gunner nodded in agreement. “I’ll set up a meet at the club later. Gonna go home and grab some shut-eye.”
“All right, man, thanks,” I replied in gratitude.
“Not a thing. Bye, peanut,” he called to Riley, who was engrossed in her show. He chuckled when she threw up a two fingered salute by way of answer.
Kid was something else, that was for sure.
Layla emerged looking rumpled but gorgeous just as I was serving up pancakes to Riley. My gaze slid to the bruising around her neck as I tried to rein in the fury swelling in my chest. The proof of the violence she’d endured would be something she’d wear on her skin for days. The man who’d inflicted it would wear his far longer once I got my hands on him.
She paused next to Riley, delivering a kiss on her head before walking over to me. She slipped under my arm, wrapping her arms around my waist and snuggling close. “Doin’ okay?” I murmured.
“Yeah.” She sighed, her voice hoarse with sleep and likely pain. My heart swelled in my chest that she gave herself over to me so easily, sinking into my side, seeking comfort without even being aware she was doing it.
“That looks good,” she commented, her eyes on Ri.
“It’s yummy,” Riley agreed, shoving a huge bite in her mouth.
“Chew, baby.” I chuckled as I poured Layla a cup of coffee with my free hand, keeping my other arm wrapped around her tight. “We can relax for most of today, but I want to get to the club later and I’m taking you both with me,” I told her, leaving no room for argument.
“You found something out,” she surmised quietly.
I nodded, my eyes on Riley, who was blissfully unaware of anything aside from maple syrup. “We’ll talk later.”
I knew she had to be curious, was scared and in pain, but she visibly straightened, putting on a brave face. “Okay,” she agreed, moving out from underneath my arm as she leaned close to Riley, appraising her nearly empty plate. “Well, if we’re going to have a lazy Saturday morning, I’m going to have some pancakes with extra syrup.” She winked at Riley, who beamed in response.
Damn, but my girl was strong.
“Sounds like a plan,” I agreed.
****