“Thank God,” Aiden mutters. “You can just toss my stuff. I have everything I need here.”
“That’s not how it works, buddy. We’ll be going back to pack up, and you’ll be going with us. I need your strong muscles to move all my heavy stuff.”
He scrunches up his nose and then shrugs. “I guess it’s worth it.”
Ryker’s phone rings, and he scowls at the display. “It’s fucking Andy. Again.”
“You should answer it.”
The man has been calling Ry every day for the past couple of days since we took our afternoon trip to Missoula, and Ryker always sends him to voicemail.
“This is Ryker,” Ry says as he puts the phone on speaker and sets it on the counter.
“Hey, man, how are you doing up there in the boonies?”
I feel my brows pull together. Why is Andy calling like he and Ryker are besties?
Aiden opens a bag of Cheetos and starts crunching away.
“What’s up, Andy?” Ryker asks.
“I’ve been trying to get ahold of you,” Andy says, and there’s an edge to his voice now that I don’t like.
“You didn’t leave any messages,” Ry replies.
“No, I’d rather just talk to you. I might have some appearances lined up for you, if you’re interested.”
Ryker shakes his head. “I made it clear that you’re no longer my agent. I’ll have my attorney send a cease and desist if I have to. Stop trying to line shit up for me.”
“Fine. I didn’t know how convinced you were of that decision.”
Aiden and I share a look.
“Listen, Ry, I could use some help. Just a loan, only a hundred eighty thousand, that I’ll pay back as soon as I’m able to. There are some guys who said they’d, well, hurt me—”
“You have lost your motherfucking mind,” Ryker replies. His voice is cold and hard, and it’s full of fury.
Andy is a stupid, stupid man.
“If you’d take the jobs I have lined up for you, I wouldn’t need the loan—”
“Stop talking,” Ryker barks. “I’m going to make myself perfectly fucking clear. I don’t owe you shit. I will not loan you money today or any other day. You no longer work for me. I want nothing to do with you ever again. Lose my goddamn number, Andy. If you keep calling me, I’ll sue you for harassment.”
“Sueme?”
“That’s right. Go. The fuck. Away.”
He hangs up on the man, and Aiden shakes his head. “You need to block his number.”
“Good idea,” Ryker says, tapping the screen. “There. Done.”
“We got a donkey,” Aiden says, cool as a cucumber, as if Ryker didn’t just threaten his former agent.
“Yeah? Is it here already?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
“Out with the herd now,” Ryker confirms, blowing out an agitated breath. “We named her Molly.”
“She’s gonna kick some coyote ass,” Aiden informs me before popping more Cheetos in his mouth.
