Saving Lawson (Loving Lawson 2)

“Muzzle the fucker,” Ryker demanded the bearded guy.

He threw the apple on the ground and punched Heath across the face, causing blood to sputter from his mouth.

“Your brother’s a real dick,” he told Heath. “I mean… damn, he’s cold, ain’t he? Torturin’ you and hurtin’ you and not even giving a fuck. That’s leadership right there. You really shouldn’t have fucked with his lady. Fuck, that is some serious soap opera shit right there.”

“Enough,” growled the boss man. “Ryker, take the gun and just end ‘em already, huh? I’ve had enough of this shit. We’re gonna have to burn the cabin down after this. It’s unsalvageable.”

Ryker nodded like this was all very basic stuff. He pulled out the gun from his hand just as the bearded man did too.

“I’ll take care of it in case you can’t,” he told Ryker. “I mean… you really think you can put a bullet in your own blood?”

“Fuck off, Reaper, I can do this. Just stand back.”

When the guy didn’t, Ryker pointed to where Matt stood and hollered, “Stand there, Reap!”

Reaper finally did as he was told and stood between Matt and me. Looking down at my arm, he hissed, “Fuckin’ hell, woman. You got some serious balls.”

I ignored him and focused my attention on Ryker. He stared down at his gun and glanced at me. He could see the pleading look in my eyes. I was begging him not to do this. He couldn’t kill Heath. He was his brother. Despite everything they went through, blood is blood!

I shook my head at him. The tears fell mercilessly down my face, loosening the tape around my mouth. I couldn’t be away from Heath. Surely he knew that. Surely he cared for me still! Where was the man from the motel? The one who held me to him like he was desperate for affection? I needed him.

My heart broke as he tore away, clearly unaffected by me. He stood in front of Heath and set the gun to his forehead. Heath breathed hard.

“Don’t fuckin’ do this,” he whispered to Ryker.

“See you in hell, bro,” Ryker said.

I shut my eyes as the gun went off.

Nineteen

Heath

“If you were so spectacular,” I said on a sneer, “then why didn’t she wait for you?”

The protruding vein at the base of his throat twitched. His eyes hardened and just as much as I was hurting at hearing what he was saying, I realized he was hurting worse. Fuck, I hadn’t come here for this.

“Ryker –”

“Fuck off and don’t come back again.” He stood up and made to leave.

“Ryker, I’m sorry,” I quickly apologized. “Look, man, I’m not here to fight. I just want to talk. Please, just talk. Tell me everything. We can work this out! Remove her from the picture for two minutes and just talk to me, man. You’re my brother.”

“We’re not brothers,” he snapped back as he took a step away from me. “And there’s nothing more to say.”

I watched as he made to turn, and I frantically said, “Your baby was born three weeks ago. Went to the hospital just last week. He had a burning fever, and we were fuckin’ scared, Ry. I got…I got a photo here if you want to see.” I dug into my pocket and pulled out my wallet. With shaking fingers, I pulled out the photo and slid it across the table.

I felt like I’d been wound up tight. I was so fuckin’ tense, I just needed him to turn away and see clearly that I was here because I wanted to fix things. I begged whatever fuckin’ God there was up there – if there even was one – to just give this fuckin’ guy some clarity. To make him understand that hating me wasn’t going to fix this. We were brothers. We had an obligation to each other to sort whatever it was out.

Ryker slowly turned back around and glanced at the photo. I always knew the kind of kid Ryker was. Before his illegal bullshit, I’d seen the light in him. I knew it still existed. I knew he cared for his son. If he cared even a shred for him, he’d try to make this right.

Slowly, he took a seat back down and picked up the photo. His hand shook a little at the newborn image of Kayden.

“He looks like you,” I told him, my voice nearing broken. “And I fuckin’ love that, man. I love that he looks like you, Ry.”

Ryker swallowed hard and whatever anger there was in him washed away from his face. He sniffed once and looked up at me.

“What do you want from me, Heath?” he asked, sounding tormented more than anything. “Fuck, I can’t have you sit here and rub this life of yours in my face.”

“I’m not!” I adamantly told him, leaning over the table. “Ryker, I’m trying to fix things.”

“What have you come here for?”

I opened my wallet again and pulled out a piece of paper. I unfolded it and slid it across the table in front of him. Ryker looked down at the unreadable gibberish across the page.

“What is this?” he asked.

I glanced around me, making sure the guards were far enough they couldn’t hear. “I took care of Ricardo, and I found a bag of money in the house he was in. There was a notebook buried in the bottom of the bag. I only found out about it when I counted the money for the first time a month ago.”

“A notebook,” Ryker repeated thoughtfully, concentrating on the words across the page. “This is… this is the notebook we wrote together. Ricardo managed the money, and he made me write this shit down.”

“I know,” I replied, nodding. “I recognized your penmanship. They’re encoded, aren’t they?”

Ryker slowly glanced up at me. “Heath, this is a very dangerous thing to have in your possession. If anybody found out, you’re a dead man. You need to get rid of this.”

“No,” I snapped back. “No, Ry. See, I took a man’s life, and it doesn’t matter, because the streets will continue to be infested with that gang’s bullshit. Do you think Kayden deserves to grow up around this shit? Who says another person isn’t going to come around and demand money from us all over again? Just because I killed one of them it doesn’t mean I’m forgotten. They’ll come around, and Kayden and Allie aren’t going to be safe. They’ll never be safe until they’re gone.”

“What do you want me to do, Heath?”

“I want you to figure this out. You’ve always been better at this than me.”