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“Not entirely. When I get home, I’ll explain everything,” he attempts.
“You’ll tell me now so I know if I should drive to Colorado and kick your ass, Lane William Johnson.” He takes a deep breath as if it pains him to tell me about his operation. Being stupid and attempting a rescue mission, wrappedup in one tiny little present with a big fat bow on top.
“Lawson’s friend Fletcher is a cop. He told us what we needed to know, gave us the information we needed, and how to proceed. Does it involve roughing up that dickbag? Sure. It also includes you being safe without having to worry about him ever hurting you again.” I should have known Lane wouldn’t let this rest. I also should have seen it coming a mile away. He didn’t ask if the detective on the case called me back either, which they didn’t. I buried my head in the sand and pretended like it never happened. Lane is not the type of man to let things rest when it comes to someone he loves.
“Fine. I’m still kicking your ass when you get home, though. We could have talked about this first.” Even as I say the words, my gut and heart are telling me,Yeah, right, Lane Johnson does things his way when it comes to you.
“I’m all yours, baby.” He’s pure golden retriever with a side of Chihuahua when someone hurts his woman or pisses him off. It’s kind of hard to be mad at a man with his energy.
“That’s the problem, Lane. I want you home, safe, and your arms wrapped around me. Promise me you won’t get hurt, or worse, land on his radar and spend time behind bars.” My heart beats rapidly at the thought of Lane being arrested. The Shermans are untouchable, it's plain as daywhen I can’t even get a return call or email to see how the investigation is going.
“I don’t look good in orange, Birdie. Plus, conjugal visits aren’t up there on my to-do list.” Lane being Lane, I can’t help but laugh.
“You better not. I love you, Lane. Come home safe and sound, please.” Russell is standing off to the side with Catherine. She’s shaking her head, and I’m sure she’s as upset as I am.
“I love you, Birdie. Always. This won’t take long. Law and I have this handled. Things go smoothly, I’ll be home late tomorrow night. We do have to stop by the auction on the way.”
“Alright, I’ll text you when I’m home and in bed.” There’s still a tightness in my chest. This is one of those times I have to let it go and let him do his thing.
“You better, and don’t let Rocky in our bed. I already know you’ve been sneaking him up there when I’m doing morning chores.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you. You must be going through a dead zone.” I make the spit and sputtering noise.
“Yeah, yeah. Night, baby,” Lane says.
“Night, Lane.” We hang up, and I’m ready to get back to the house, take a hot shower, and settle in for the night. The wine buzz is all but gone, and in its place is worry.
21
LANE
“You good?”Lawson asks when I get off the phone with Birdie. The call being on Bluetooth through the truck gave him the whole conversation. We’re currently sitting on a side street, waiting for Junior to walk out. Fletch’s report gave us every detail about the woman beater. Apparently, he gets off on leaving marks on a woman, threatening them enough to make them do the sort of things no one should ever have to deal with. How this fucker has been able to stay out of the limelight, I’ve got no idea. I guess that happens when dear old Dad owns a digital social media company and is rubbing elbows with the local politicians. His son must be costing him a fortune in hush money along with a lawyer on retainer for victims to sign a nondisclosure agreement.
“Yep, Birdie may not like what I’m doing, butshe gets it.” At least, I hope she does, with Dad being there and what he told her.
“You better hope, or you’ll have a cold bed to go home to,” he states, and he probably has plenty of experience in that department since Juniper hasn’t given him the time of day.
“She’s good.” My phone vibrates. I glance at the screen and smirk at the text she sent me.
Birdie: I love you, Lane. Please be safe and come home to me.
“She’s real good.” My eyes are looking up from my phone as I shoot a quick response back.
Me: Always, Birdie, I’ll love you always.
“Ready to rock and roll?” he asks.
“It’s go time.” I look up from my phone, throw it in the cup holder, and quietly exit the vehicle. Lawson is doing the same. We’ve got a plan. Doing this at dark is pivotal in getting in and out. Included in the file on Pauly Boy were his usual haunts. It was pure luck that he was coming out of a building with a one-way alley beside us. A little bit of recon showed there weren’t any cameras, and now the rest is up to us.
“Hey there, Paul. Wanna have a little chat?” I sidle up to one side, Lawson on the other, and he’s already looking like he’s going to bolt. I take hold of his arm, squeezing it tighter, and luckily for me, my brother is right in tune with me.
“No, no, I’m good. Thank you, though.” We lift him up, and the tips of his shoes drag along the ground.
“Imagine that. He’s saying no. Kind of like the women do who he bullies, harasses, beats, and assaults.” Fletch did us another solid on how to play this out. Record him but not video. There’s some kind of loophole he can handle, and he’s going to do that, but with a guy he knows. No one can be trusted in this city.
“They wanted it, I swear.” I look at Lawson. He shakes his head in anger. Yeah, I feel the same.
“I’m pretty sure the women you battered did not ask for it. I’m pretty sure no one ever wants to be bruised and used.” We walk to the corner. Darkness has settled all around us, and there’s only a small light above. Should anyone happen to walk by, all they would see is shadows.
