Golden Trail (Page 162)
Golden Trail (The ‘Burg #3)(162)
Author: Kristen Ashley
Tyler swallowed.
Layne continued. “So, right now, you got a choice to keep bein’ a punk or man, the f**k, up. Admit what you did, explain why you did it, apologize to Cal and Jasper and we’ll all move on. That’s your choice. You got one second to make it before we move out.”
“I –” Tyler started.
“No joke, Tyler, one second,” Layne warned.
“Coach Cosgrove gave it to me!” Tyler blurted and the entire room went wired.
Everyone was silent for long, tense moments until Layne broke it by asking, “Come again?”
“He gave me a hundred bucks, told me to slip it to Keira and keep her from Jasper,” Tyler told them, his eyes darting between the three males in the room and Layne knew he was giving it to them straight but there was something missing. “It wasn’t even me, really, I just put it in the shot and gave it to her. It was Coach Cosgrove.”
Layne was frozen so when Jasper moved, Layne couldn’t do a thing about it but Cal got hold of him and shoved him back.
“Stay cool,” Cal growled at Jasper and Jasper must have gotten himself under control because Cal turned back to Tyler. “No shit?”
“No shit, freaked me out, he showed at the party about five minutes after they showed,” he pointed at Jasper.
“Tell me exactly what he said,” Layne demanded and Tyler looked at him, his body alert, his mind still scrambling.
“He didn’t say much of anything. He just said give her the drug, keep her away from Jasper and let it play out however it played out. Problem was, she was with Jasper all night and I couldn’t get to her. I didn’t know they were leaving when I gave it to her. No one has a midnight curfew, that’s crazy,” Tyler replied.
Layne felt Cal’s eyes on him but he didn’t take his from Tyler. “So, you’re tellin’ me the coach of the football team was settin’ Keira Winters up to get hurt.”
“I don’t know what he wanted. Just know what he said,” Tyler answered then continued. “She sticks to him like glue,” his eyes slid to Jasper, he couldn’t hide the jealousy, it was stark on his face, then they slid back to Layne, “couldn’t keep her from him after she took the shot so she went funny when she was with him.” That jealousy took hold and his voice took on the thread of a whine when he went on. “Then he picks her up like he’s in some stupid, romance movie, carries her to his car while all the girls watch like he’s some kind of f**kin’ movie star and then they were gone, there was nothing I could do.”
“Cosgrove come back?” Layne asked.
“No,” Tyler answered.
“You didn’t see him at all?” Layne pressed.
“No, not at all,” Tyler replied.
“Has he called you?” Layne pushed.
“No, nothing, haven’t seen or heard from him at all,” Tyler said.
“That doesn’t make sense, Tyler,” Layne noted, the kid was hiding something.
Tyler jutted up his chin, digging in. “Well that’s what happened.”
Layne studied him a beat then asked, “How old are you?”
“Seventeen,” Tyler answered.
Shit, as Layne suspected, he was underage.
“When do your parents get home?” Layne went on.
“Tonight,” Tyler replied.
“Where are they?”
“Chicago, Mom’s shoppin’, Dad’s got some conference,” Tyler told him.
“On the phone,” Layne ordered, walking to the kid’s desk and tagging his cell phone. “Tell them they’re coming home now.” He turned and tossed the phone to Tyler who fumbled and dropped it.
Tyler squatted to the phone but his head was tipped back to stare at Layne. “What? Why?” His voice was shrill.
“Because I’m callin’ the cops and they can’t talk to you unless a parent or guardian is present,” Layne explained. “And I reckon it’ll be better for you to call them now than wait and have the cops call them and tell them they’ve got you at the Station.”
Tyler nabbed his phone and straightened like a shot. “But you said –”
“I thought you were f**kin’ around. I didn’t know Cosgrove was involved.”
“But I can’t –” Tyler tried.
“You can and you will,” Layne demanded.
“I can’t! Everyone will know! Coach Cosgrove will be pissed!” He was freaked right the f**k out.
Definitely hiding something.
“All right, this has escaped you but this is not about you anymore. This is about Cosgrove. You owned up to it, got smart and you were honest. You f**ked up. You took a coupla hits and manned up. Now, if you keep your shit together and cooperate, it’ll look good for you. You go back to bein’ a punk, this time a sissy punk, it won’t look so good and you’re in that hole you were in five minutes ago with Jas and Cal both happy to ride your ass until you beg for mercy and me workin’ with all I got to make you pay for what you did to Keira. Again, kid, you got a choice. Make it but make it now,” Layne ordered.
Tyler stared at him.
Then he asked, “I won’t get in trouble?”
“Can’t tell the future,” Layne replied. “Your folks’ll probably be pissed. Girls and their parents know you aren’t afraid of usin’ a date rape drug, you won’t get a date until you go to college. As for the cops, you cooperate, they might feel generous.”
Tyler hesitated so Cal entered the conversation.
“Best deal you’re gonna get, boy,” he growled.
“God!” Tyler, backed into a corner, for once in his life without his Daddy’s money or hotshot CEO bluster to hide behind to keep him safe, exclaimed, “This is jacked up!”
“Yeah, it is,” Jasper told him. “It’s totally jacked, Tyler. So, maybe, take a second to think about this shit and do right, you freakin’ moron.”
Cal cut his eyes to Layne and Layne watched his friend’s lips twitch while he pressed his own together.
Then Layne looked to Tyler. “What’s it gonna be?”
Tyler stared at him again then his eyes did a sweep of Cal and Jasper.
Then he flipped open his phone, pressed a few buttons, put it to his ear and after a few beats, said, “Mom?”
* * * * *
Colt and Sully left the interrogation room, both their jaws tight, their faces hard.
They left behind Tyler Berger and his father Travis. Travis Berger was probably an inch shorter than Layne but no less fit. But whereas Layne worked at being lean and strong, Travis Berger worked at bulk and intimidation. The man was a brute in a suit and his son was definitely a Mama’s Boy. Layne reckoned Tyler got to be a punk because Dad worked long hours, Mom was a pushover and Dad wasn’t all that thrilled with the results of his inattention but his priorities were f**ked. One look at those two and it was evident that career was definitely more important than family. Watching them for half an hour, it wasn’t only evident, it was definite. Travis Berger barely knew his boy and what he knew he didn’t like much.