Fumbling with his phone, Ryker dialed Cohen’s number.
Cohen knew where Marshal lived.
“Hey, Ryker, what’s up?”
“Where are you?”
“We’re at a dude ranch in Arizona.”
“What?”
“Yeah.” Cohen laughed. “Marshal moved us out here a week ago for some R and R. I meant to text you.”
Ryker gripped the phone, his mind going a mile a minute.
“Are you okay?” Cohen’s tone of voice changed from laughing to concerned.
“Yeah.” Ryker forced a laugh even though he was dying inside. Marshal took the time to move his family plus Cohen and Aspen out of state.
But him? Apparently, he wasn’t worthy of the man’s time.
He had been left to take the fall along with his parents.
“Ryker?” Cohen asked tentatively.
“Yeah. I’m here. I was just going to come by and visit you at Marshal’s place.”
“We should be back the week after next.”
“Can you text me Marshal’s address?”
“Sure. Why? You can’t get it from him?”
“Ah, you know. He’s MIA again.” Ryker kept his voice light. They all knew that Marshal had a tendency to disappear.
And now Ryker knew why.
“Cohen!” A young voice was picked up through the phone.
“I’m coming!” Cohen shouted and then returned to him. “I’ll text you the address.”
“Thanks, man.” Ryker ended the call and held onto the phone.
Marshal had deserted him. The fucker had moved his family and saved himself.
And forgot all about him.
Marshal slammed his hands against the bars that had confined him for fucking days.
He’d gone to deliver the flash drive to Anthony only to be double-crossed. Call him fucking stupid but he hadn’t suspected that Donald and Anthony had planned to keep him out of the picture.
“You’re only bruising your hands,” Donald said, coming into the room.
“Fuck you.”
The man sighed, straightened the jacket of his suit, and took a seat in one of the lounge chairs that sat several yards from the cell.
“You’re no longer one of us. You can’t be involved in what’s happening.” Donald poured a glass of water from a clear pitcher that sat on the small table between the two chairs and took a sip.