Chapter 6 Colton
Colton
Jesus Christ on a sparkly skateboard. What the ever-loving fuck was up with these assholes? “Greg. I was about to escort this man off the premises. He wants to leave.” And that was what was gonna happen.
Greg’s gaze darted about, and praise the Lord he figured out the situation without being told. “That so? I take it these fellers object?” Greg laid on the hayseed. It would be a real mistake to believe Greg was nothing but trouble to a criminal.
“That does seem to be the issue, partner.” He started easing Zach out of the group of folks. The kid was shaking some, trembling against his side.
Greg got between them and the rest of the men. “All of you need to disperse. Now. If I have to ask again, people are getting arrested. Or worse.”
He wasn’t sure exactly what these asshats’ endgame was, but he knew Zach wanted out. That was enough for now. “Come on, honey. One foot in front of the other. Greg’s got our back. We’ll go in my truck.”
If he hadn’t seen the shit that just went down, he might not have believed a word of it. He kept his gun unstrapped. Just in case.
Greg came jogging up next to him, and he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. His cousin could handle himself, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t get hurt. “What do you wanna bet we get fired from this happy little gig?” Greg said.
He’d have to call his uncle and get replacements to work the fair. Something told him they were going to be unpopular in a few minutes. “That’s a sucker bet, man. What do you bet no one else wants the job?”
Greg snorted. “Fill me in.”
Easing Zach in front of them, he moved the kid nice and quick. Still glancing over his shoulder, he told Greg what he’d observed. Zach never said a word, just moved faster, shoulders up around his ears.
“Damn, son. You pissed in their Wheaties, didn’t you?” Greg shook his head. “You got some balls, kid. Good on you.”
“I didn’t intend it to be a standoff. I thought I’d just run.”
Yeah, with Colton’s help, but that was fair. The kid was scared, and he was a cop, for fuck’s sake. “You’ll have to tell us what’s happening, Zach. We’ll go to the sheriff.”
What Mr. Suit and the other asshole were up to, it was more than trying to steal Zach’s inheritance. Which, if Colton were honest, was confusing as fuck in its own right. He didn’t even know someone could own part of a band like that. Seriously, how the hell did that even work?
“I will. I so will. Can we please get out of here first?”
The kid was shaking like he was buck naked in a blizzard. “Yeah, I think we were supposed to have supper together, right?”
“Uh. Yeah.” Zach shot him a guilty look.
It wasn’t going to be all exciting sexy times like he’d hoped, but he wasn’t going to let this kid twist in the wind and get hurt.
No chance. “Don’t. If you need help, I’m on it, okay?
We’ll figure it out.” Colton was a lot of things, but a solid gold asshole wasn’t one of them.
“Come on. I’ll feed you, hear your story.
Greg can be a good deputy and sit at another table and watch the door, right Greg? ”
“Don’t make me hurt you, Scrappy. I’ve already lost a side hustle tonight.”
He winked, but he’d have to make it up to Greg. “Yeah, yeah. Dime a dozen.” He pointed toward the staff parking near the entrance. “Head that way Zach.”
“Okay. Thanks.” Zach nodded, ducking his head.
He loaded the kid into his truck, shut the door, then went to Greg. “This isn’t about a booty call, man. Not now.”
“No, I get it. What I walked into was batshit crazy. Never seen anything like it.”
Neither had Colton. Not even as an MP in the army. “Think we can get combat pay?”
“A man can dream.” Greg clapped him on the shoulder. “Where are we heading?”
Colton had two dreams that wouldn’t come true—the money and the guy. “You want to go out to that truck stop on the highway? It’s open, clean, and has only one way in.”
“I’ll meet you there.” Greg gave him a serious look. “Drive safe.”
“Will do.”
He hopped into his truck, settled into his seat and put the key in the ignition. Zach stared straight ahead, not blinking when Colton got in. “Diner food okay with you?”
“Fine. Good. Yeah. Thanks.”
Poor kid. He felt like shit, thinking the type of thoughts he had been having watching him play. “Easy, I’m not going to hurt you. You’re out. Breathe.”
“Sorry. That was just way tighter than I expected.”
He eased into the zipper of traffic, waving at Big John Peterson on his way. “Yeah? This been a problem for a while?”
“Ever since my grandfather died.” Zach shrugged. “Maybe longer. It’s a weird place.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” The words slipped out, because he’d said them so many times.
“Thanks. He was a crusty old butthead.” Zach chuckled, the sound dry as a bone.
“Most grandpas are, right?”
“I guess?” Zach sighed, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.
Okay, yeah. He could take a hint. He drove, letting the music fill the empty spaces.
He’d get some food into Zach and it would make him feel better.
A full belly was always far better for decision-making.
And he needed to know what he was walking into.
He was about to wade into a raft of shit, and if he knew anything, he knew that family shit was the deepest and the stinkiest.
That never came off.
Somehow, this was more personal than just doing his duty as a deputy.
He was going to pretend that it wasn’t because he’d wanted to fuck Zach or that he felt like a slimeball either.
This wasn’t how he’d expected his night to end up, to be honest, and even though he was doing a good deed, his balls protested a little bit.
Good thing he wasn’t controlled by hormones and shit.
That got him to chuckling, and he fought not to let the sound out.
“What?” Zach opened one eye and rolled it toward him
“Best laid plans, that’s all. I was going to stun you with my sexy self.”
“You’re still pretty hot.”
He knew better. Zach was the hot one, with or without his fiddle, who’d come onto him to get out of a shit situation, and he couldn’t take advantage of someone like that. He could help, and he would. Colton liked to think he was a good guy. “Yeah, right.”
“Seriously. You’re fine. I just—I feel like shit for this, but I had to get out. I had to!” Zach still clutched the bag he’d carried like he’d wither without it.
Colton reached out and patted Zach’s shoulder, telling himself he didn’t feel a flare of interest. “And you did. We’ll figure it out. Okay? I got you.”
“Thanks.” He caught Colton’s hand, pressing it between both of his for a moment before letting go. “I mean it.”
The first days of the fair, Colton hadn’t been shy about his interest. If Zach had been waiting for someone to help him, Colton served himself up on a platter.
He still felt a bit foolish, being manipulated the way he had, but if he’d been in Zach’s position, Colton probably would’ve done the same thing.
“You’re welcome. I hate seeing someone being taken advantage of.”
“Yeah.” Zach’s cheeks went pink. “You’re a good guy. Really.”
He hadn’t meant to point out that Zach used him, but being tricked like that still stung. “I try.”
They pulled into the diner’s lot and parked. “Come on, kiddo. Greg’s on his way, but he’ll sit at the counter. I want to hear your story and get your belly full.”
“Not a kid,” Zach muttered, but he followed Colton eagerly enough, his stomach rumbling.
Zach probably had seen too much to be called a kid, but so had Colton. His life wasn’t Housewives of Whitebark County material. Not even a little. “Come on, dinner awaits. Everything’s better with pancakes and coffee.”
“Yeah? Is that cop theory?”
Colton smiled. The kid was definitely not going to fall apart. “That would be doughnuts, which come to think of it, are cake-type things with a sweet glaze. So, yes. Totally cop theory.” Go him with keeping a straight face.
Zach actually grinned, and he slid into the booth Colton pointed out.
“Well, hey, Colton.” Annie Bellows, the night manager, asked. “What can I get y’all to drink?”
He watched her gaze shift between him and Zach. Everyone knew his business, but he didn’t bring dates to places while in uniform. “Coffee and water for me, Miss Annie. Greg’s coming and unless I don’t know my uncle, the sheriff will be joining us too.”
“Oh.” She raised an eyebrow, and whatever thoughts she had seemed to disappear. “How about you, Sugar?”
“Can I have a Coke, please, ma’am?”
“Not if you call me ma’am again.” She popped her gum, and winked. “Y’all need menus?”
Colton probably should’ve warned Zach about the side of attitude Annie served with every meal. “He will.”
“Right. You’re having the usual.” She wrote something on her pad, slid the pencil in her apron, and headed behind the counter. Greg walked in, and she gave him a wave. “Hey, Baby. Be right there.”
“They seem to know you here,” Zach said, twisting a napkin in his fingers. “Your usual is pancakes and sausage?”
Staring at him up close, in the clear light, Zach was even cuter than he thought. He also looked incredibly young. Twenty-four wasn’t old, but he felt too old for Zach. “Close, pancakes, bacon, hash browns and scrambled eggs.”
“Holy shit.” Zach looked around as if anyone cared he almost cursed. “Sorry. Is there anything on the menu you aren’t having?”
On stage, Zach looked lean and wiry. Now, he wondered if the guy got enough to eat. “No pie. I love cherry pie, but I save that for special occasions.”
“Right.” Zach dropped his gaze. “Good idea.”
Colton hadn’t meant to remind them this dinner could’ve been special. “What about you?”
“I’ll go with what you’re having, minus the hash browns. Too much grease.”
They’d hit that dead space where the easy talking was over, and the serious stuff no one wanted to discuss needed to be said.
“Thank you again.” Zach finally looked up. “For everything.”