Piece by Piece (The Riggins Brothers #2) - Kaylee Ryan Page 0,79

and Dad?” There is worry in his tone.

“No. But we need to rally, brother.”

“Noted. We’re on our way.”

The line goes dead, so I call Conrad. “Hey, Con,” I say when he answers.

“What’s up?”

“You still working with Dad today?”

“No, we just finished up. The old man can still work like he’s in his twenties.” Conrad laughs.

“No doubt. Hey, can you meet up with us over at Royce’s place?”

“Sure, what’s up?” His voice changes. He knows me well enough to know if I’m not joking around, it’s serious.

“Just meet us there. I’ll explain when I get there. I think it would be easier to do it once.”

“I was just with Mom and Dad, who is it?” he asks.

“Layla.”

“Fuck. Does O know?”

“No, and I’m not exactly sure what we’re dealing with, but we need to rally.”

“I’m on my way,” Conrad assures me before the line goes dead.

I want to be there when they get there, so I push the pedal a little further to the floor. I don’t know what’s going on, but I know without a doubt that we’re going to get to the bottom of it.

You don’t mess with a Riggins and get away with it.

Chapter 28

Owen

“Who was that?” I ask Royce.

“Marshall. He wants us all to meet him at my place.” He doesn’t take his eyes off the road.

“Did he say why?”

“Nope.”

He’s not telling me something. Realizing I’m not getting anywhere, I pull my phone out of my pocket and dial Marshall. “What’s up?” he greets me.

“What’s going on?”

“Just need to talk to you all.” He evades my question.

“How was Layla?”

“She left about fifteen minutes ago. She took your car. She said she just wanted to go home and rest,” Marshall explains.

“Fuck, I knew I should have just skipped today.”

“She said she would text me when she gets home.”

“Did she?”

“No,” he admits. “But she looked exhausted. I’m sure she just went home and went to bed.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. All right, we’re almost at Royce’s, you there?”

“Just pulled in.”

“See ya soon.” I end the call and debate on calling Layla. If what Marshall said is right, she’s sleeping, and I don’t want to disturb her. I know she’s not feeling well. I decide to send her a text. If she’s up, she’ll reply.

Me: Did you make it home okay? How are you feeling?”

By the time we pull into Royce’s driveway, she hasn’t replied. I tell myself it’s because she’s asleep, but I can’t help but worry about her. As soon as we find out what Marshall needs to talk to us about, one of these fuckers is taking me home to her.

Royce parks his truck beside Marshall’s, who is parked in front of Conrad. Grant, Royce, and I climb out of the truck, and I’m the first to ask. “What’s going on?”

“Let’s go inside,” Marshall suggests.

“You okay, brother?” Grant asks him.

“Yeah.” His reply is not all that convincing, so we follow him inside, waiting to see what bomb he’s going to drop on us.

“Let’s hear it,” Royce says once we’re all settled in his living room.

Marshall looks at me. His gaze is intense. “O, I overheard Layla on the phone today at the office.”

“Okay?” I ask calmly, even though the idea of whatever this is involving Layla has me on high alert.

“She was talking to her mom,” Marshall says, keeping his eyes locked on mine.

“Fuck,” I hiss.

“I only heard Layla’s side of the call, but she told her she couldn’t get that kind of money.”

“Son of a bitch,” Royce seethes. “What is it with people using us for money?”

“That’s not Layla,” I say, getting in his face.

“Whoa, I didn’t say it was. However, her bitch of a mother seems to have no issue with it,” Royce replies.

“I don’t have details. Layla was pretty upset, so I didn’t call her out on it. I wanted all of you to know first so we can get a game plan together.”

“I need to go home,” I say, running my fingers through my hair.

“I agree,” Marshall says. “She’s upset, and I’m sure she needs you. But we all want to be there for her. The two of you aren’t dealing with this crazy psycho on your own.”

“What he said,” Conrad chimes in. “What do you need?”

“Fuck, I don’t know. Layla. I just need to see her.”

“Have you met her mom?” Grant asks.

“Fuck no. Layla left home the day she turned eighteen and never looked back.” I go on to tell them what I know of her life before Florida. I hate that I’m betraying

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