Resisting Ryann Read online

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  Books by Alyssa Rae Taylor

  Bad Boy Reformed Series

  Raising Ryann

  Resisting Ryann

  Breaking Ryann

  I watch Gage repeatedly slap the woman in front of me. With the rest of the crew aiming their AK-47’s, her tortured gaze begs me to step in. I wonder if she can see through me … if she knows I’m not one of them. She’s young, probably in her mid-twenties, possibly thirties. There are a couple of kids running around—not an ounce of fear apparent on their faces. Maybe this is a regular scene for them. Their father’s gotten himself into some serious shit, and now his family is suffering the consequences. My eyes move to the five men surrounding me. If it weren’t for their weapons, I could take them, but it would defeat the purpose of why I’m here, working under the thumb of my scumbag father. It’s the only way to put an end to him once and for all—to keep Reese safe.

  He cuts her open with the next blow. She cries out in pain as blood splatters from her lip and onto the wall. The little boy finally notices. Running to his mother’s side, she tries to shoo him away, but Gage already has him in his grasp. My fingers twitch. I could reach out and snap this guy’s neck, yet I do nothing. “You,” he says, pointing to me. “Tie the bitch up.” He shoves the trembling kid into the corner next to his sister. My gaze flicks to them before landing on the woman. There’s no way I’ll let that happen.

  “Move!” Gage shouts, turning around to find me in the same spot.

  I’ve never been good with orders. “She doesn’t know where he is. Look at her.”

  “We’re wasting time, boys,” Marcus growls.

  Gage’s features darken. He ignores him and slowly steps my way. “I said, ‘Tie. The. Bitch. Up.’” Each word is clearly pronounced, but I don’t back down. He looks like a skinhead on crack with a face that’s covered in sores. His gun is the only thing giving him confidence. I envision taking the AK and shoving it up his ass. “Think you can fool me, Romeo? I know who you are. I’ve been watching you a long time.” He tilts his head and laughs.

  “He knows we’re after him. He’s not going to tell her where he is.” Gage takes another step, lifts the gun, and presses it against my forehead, then cocks it with shaky hands. That’s when I raise mine.

  “Whoa … there are kids here, man.” Not that it makes a difference; he’s out of his mind. A slow smirk stretches across his face.

  “Gage, let’s get out of here,” Marcus says. Sirens play in the distance, all the while Gage is still deciding on whether or not to shoot. His agitation grows, as the woman’s cries get louder. Sweating profusely, he keeps glancing her way.

  “Shut up!” he yells. “Or I’ll shut you up myself!” Clearly distraught, she attempts to muffle her sounds. I try to distract him by pressing harder against the end of the barrel. I’d rather him shoot me than the innocent mother in the corner.

  “C’mon Gage let’s go!”

  I narrow my eyes, neither one of us pulling away. It’s a game that we play until he presses the gun harder and violently yells, “BANG!” I flinch, and he lowers the gun, smiling proudly before making his way out the door with a wicked cackle.

  My gaze moves from the boy and girl to their mother, who looks just as relieved as I am. A weak smile of gratitude appears on her face.

  I search for something to say then settle for, “I’m sorry,” before shutting the door and making my way toward the parking lot.

  I climb into the van, and Gage tells me, “You’re lucky I didn’t cap your ass back there.”

  I give him a lethal stare and fantasize about the hundred different ways I could pummel him. We’re all piled together in one vehicle, headed to meet my father. He won’t be happy about the news, since we didn’t get what he’d been hoping for. Gage is lucky I’m in the back. The guy brings out the worst in me.

  “You can thank your daddy for that. Figured he wouldn’t be happy if we came back without his pansy-ass son.”

  “You got a problem?” I point to the AK resting in his lap. “Lose the security blanket, and I’ll help you with it.”

  “You know what? Blow me. Once your dad finally gets what’s coming to him, and he will,” he reassures, “I’m gonna find you, and I’m gonna kill you.” He grins. “After I tap that little whore of yours and make you watch. How ab—”

  I lunge over a row of bodies, swinging violently. Three pairs of arms attempt to hold me back. “You worthless piece of shit!” I swing harder as Gage tries to crouch underneath the dash. I push forward, wanting a piece of him. I’ve lost it. Behind me, the guys are shouting, pulling on my arms and legs—trying their best to keep me from murdering the prick.

  “Not in the van!” Marcus yells. We all swerve to the right, then he slams his fist into Gage’s side. “You trying to get us killed?

  “Shit! I was messing with him!” Licking the blood from his mouth, which, fortunately for him, was the only contact I’d made. “The dude just started trippin’!” He flips down the visor, and his gaze falls on mine. The others pick up their guns, warning me to calm down. I sit back and close my eyes, rubbing the space between them. I’ve blocked out his words before, but this time it was different. “Don’t tell me it’s the whore who’s got you in a tizzy. I thought you said you didn’t have one?” I don’t answer him; I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. As far as my father knows, Reese isn’t a concern of mine anymore. My lack of sleep must finally be taking a toll on me.

  “No one cares,” Warren replies. The rest of the guys chuckle. “You better watch your back, Gage.”

  “Or what?”

  “Come on. You jealous?” Marcus says with a smirk. “We got other things to worry about.”

  He watches me in the mirror, and a twisted grin appears on his face. I feel my jaw clench, then I press my lips into a tight line and fold my arms, resting my head against the back of the seat. It’s too tempting to stare him down, so I close my eyes and try to clear my mind. The bastard isn’t worth my time.

  He snickers as though he can read what I’m thinking. “Believe me, Ryann … the feeling’s mutual.”

  We pull up to an abandoned warehouse, never meeting my father in the same place, therefore lessening our chances of getting caught. Like always, I’m the last to know the location. Nobody trusts me at this point, but that’s smart. They shouldn’t. One by one we climb out of the van and make our way around the back. My father and the rest of his entourage are already here. There’s a woman standing by his side, maybe a hooker. All I know is that I’ve never seen her before, and she can’t be much older than Reese.

  “You’re late,” my father says. His two overweight bodyguards step forward. I raise my arms, and they pat me down, checking to see if I’m wired. It’s an occurrence I’ve become accustomed to.

  “You can blame your son for that,” Gage replies, tipping his head in my direction. Man, I’d love to knock whatever’s left of his teeth down his throat.

  “Luke?”

  I respond to my father, “We couldn’t find him.”

  “And his wife?”

  “We tried. She said she didn’t know anything, and I believe her. Then dipshit over here got a hard-on and wouldn’t leave her alone.” I glance at Gage. “It took some convincing for him to finally realize the feelings weren’t mutual.”

  My father purses his lips, while the rest of the guys laugh. Gage raises his gun. “You lying sack of …”

  “Put it down, Gage. There’s no need for violence,” my father says calmly before his eyes flick to mine. “You two need to start figuring out how to get along,” he says, pointing between us, “or things are going to get messy.” Gage scowls, and I drop my gaze to the floor. “Samuel owes me a lot of
money. We don’t have time for this crap; you need to find him. Understand?”

  We look at each other and nod, neither of us meaning it. Pretending to be my father’s puppet takes practice. While most of them have it down, I’m still getting the hang of it. Every guy is in this for himself. If getting along with Gage will earn me a gun, then that’s what I’ll do. You can’t trust anyone in this business, and I can only do so much using my bare hands.

  “So what’s the plan, boys? The clock is ticking.” He looks at his watch.

  “We go back, get the wife and kids. Kill ‘em off one by one. If he cares about his family, he won’t have a choice but to give us the money.” Gage grins, and that’s when I snap.

  “Are you really that hard up? ‘Cause if you’re looking to get off, I can think of several other options. A couple of them being a willing participant and your hand.”

  Gage strides toward me. “I’ve had enough of your mouth, damn it! I could have ended you back at the apartment.” He turns to my father, pleading, “You said he was dead to you. How about I make it official and put us all out of our misery?” Marcus and Warren hold him back. I stay where I am, craving the confrontation. Let him come.

  My father tilts his head, and I see the evil lurking behind his eyes. “Do you know who my son is, Gage?” he asks. I groan under my breath. I don’t want him turning this into a show. These are people’s lives that we’re messing with. When Gage doesn’t respond, he says, “Tell him, son.”

  I raise a brow, hesitating, not wanting to go there. “Nah, it’s all right.” I put my hands in my pockets, rocking back on my heels. “How about we go home, get some shut-eye? Pick up where we left off in the morning?” It’s late, and I’m tired.

  He makes his way over, places his hand on my back, and leans in. His breath sweeps across my face. “Humble isn’t a good look on you, son.” He turns around. “Would someone do me the honors of filling Gage in? Surely one of you knows.”

  “I don’t care who he is,” Gage grumbles, his fists clenched closely at his sides.

  “Let it go, Dad.” The word slips out of my mouth before I can take it back—call it an error in judgment due to sleep deprivation. I haven’t called him that in ages, and I don’t plan on starting now.

  “He’s a professional fighter. Mixed martial arts,” Warren tells him. “I told you, Gage, you’re playing with fire.”

  “Again, I don’t care who he is.”

  “Marcus, take his gun.”

  I narrow my eyes as Marcus obeys. You’re kidding me. “You want me to fight him?”

  He smiles. “I do. In fact, I’m looking forward to it.” The rest of the guys egg us on, already pumped to see some action. Gage just stares me down, bobbing his head as though he’s ready to start.

  I let out a laugh. “Trust me. I’d love to give this dick what he deserves, but I won’t go easy on him—not after what he pulled today.” I stare back.

  “Who said anything about easy?”

  Gage bounces around, circling his shoulders, then spits. “You don’t scare me, asshole.” Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Gage all but begs for me to fight him … and I will. That piece of shit preys on defenseless women and wouldn’t think twice about taking the life of a child. Today’s memory brings a spike of adrenaline that now overshadows my fatigue. Suddenly, slamming my fist through his teeth no longer seems like such a bad idea.

  I rotate my wrists, stretching out my neck and shoulders. “You sure you want to do this?”

  Pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it behind him, he says, “Never been more sure of anything in my life.”

  I lie awake, frozen at the sound of someone walking outside my bedroom window, a shadow lurking on the wall. My father left me with tearstained cheeks, the taste still lingering on my tongue. I wipe them away and climb out of bed, searching my room for a weapon. I’d rather do this alone than involve the person responsible for the throbbing above my eye. Reaching for my bat, I creep toward the window, hoping my imagination has gotten the best of me. The only barrier I have is the thin cotton material of my curtain. An outline of a person stands on the other side. My pulse quickens, and my body trembles. I’m terrified. Stretching out the bat, using the end to open the curtain, I find a boy holding up his hands. He takes a step back.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you.” His gaze is steady on the bat. “You’re safe. I promise,” he says, his voice calm.

  I loosen my grip, recognizing the boy from across the street, then place my weapon on the ground, embarrassed. I don’t know why he’s here. He’s older—he drives a car—and we’ve barely ever talked to each other.

  The darkness outside makes my injury easier to hide. Maybe he won’t notice. He watches me with gentle eyes, and the corner of his mouth tips up.

  I look at what he’s wearing, assuming he just crawled out of bed. He’s got on pajama pants and a hoodie that doesn’t match. His hair is sticking up. It’s the middle of January. It’s cold, late—too late for him to be here—and way past my bedtime. If my father catches us, I’ll be hiding my face for a while.

  Realizing that my weapon is no longer a threat, he lowers his hands. “Can you hear me? I’ll try to be quiet.”

  I peek over my shoulder to check that my door is still closed; I turn and give him a nod.

  “You probably shouldn’t talk,” he replies. “I don’t want you to get into trouble.” When I look at him, confused, he adds, “Just nod your head yes or no. All right?”

  I agree.

  His gaze falls to the ground, and he scratches the back of his head. “I saw what happened … with your dad earlier.” Shoving his hands into his pockets, he continues, “Are you hurt?” he asks sincerely.

  I want to disappear. He saw my dad hit me? I blush. Probably saw me crying, too. Closing my eyes, mortified, I wonder what all he had seen, and how it looked from the outside.

  “Does he do it a lot?”

  My eyes open. I press my lips into a tight line and force myself to answer. It’s only when he drinks. If it weren’t for the alcohol, he wouldn’t do it. The problem, though? He drinks all the time.

  His gaze stays on mine. “You know it’s wrong, right?” He cocks a brow.

  Of course I know it’s wrong. I nod.

  “Have you told anyone?”

  Only you. I shake my head, and he gestures toward his house.

  “Come find me if he does it again.” He lifts his chin. “I’ll teach him a lesson.”

  The thought of him teaching my father a lesson makes me laugh. It’s nice of him to offer, but he obviously doesn’t know how strong he is.

  “What?” He gives me a dimpled grin. “You don’t think I could take him?”

  Shaking my head, I smile but try to hide it.

  His eyes widen. “Shit! Is that blood?”

  I flinch, touching the spot where my face had hit the dresser. Pulling back a sticky piece of hair, I meet his eyes, and his expression goes hard.

  He reaches for my chin. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispers, turning it toward him, carefully eyeing the injury. “That’s going to leave a scar.” I don’t know what to say, so I stay quiet while he examines the rest of my face. “I could kill him,” he hisses, releasing me and looking around. “I better go,” he points. “You should get back in bed. I don’t want to risk you getting in trouble again.”

  I nod.

  “Don’t forget what I said.” He lifts his brows, walking backward toward his house, nearly tripping when he almost misses the curb. It makes me smile.

  My eyes pop open, and I’m short of breath. The ceiling fan spins above me. How am I supposed to move past this when my memories constantly bring him back? My chest tightens as the familiar ache burns from deep within, triggering tears I don’t want to cry anymore. I hate him—hate him for what he’s done to me. I grab a pillow and throw it against the wall. I doubt I’ll be getting any sleep tonight.

  “Get off of me, Logan! It isn’t funny,” I growl, jabb
ing my elbows into his chest. He chuckles, taking his time before slowly rolling away, finding my effort amusing. The man drives me crazy. If he weren’t my best friend’s boyfriend, I’d take the opportunity to knee him in the balls. It’s a fantasy I have on a regular basis.

  “Why are you always laughing at me?” I brush off my shorts. He had me pinned face down on the ground. It isn’t the first time, and I doubt it will be the last. Like Luke, he pushes my buttons, except he takes it to a completely different level that I didn’t know was possible.

  He quickly stands. “I like to find the humor in things,” he says, leaning against the counter, crossing his feet at his ankles. “You should try it.” Then he strikes a pose to show off his muscles. I realize what he’s doing when an attractive woman walks by and shoots him a flirty look. He eats it up, his ego growing by the second. She’s wearing boy shorts that expose three-quarters of her butt. He purses his lips, and his eyes follow the back of her as she walks farther away.

  “Maybe if you look long enough, you’ll get to see her vagina.”

  He grins. “I hope so,” he says, keeping his gaze on her backside until she’s completely out of view. He’s messing with me; it’s what he likes to do.

  “Earlier … you were saying?”

  I’m about ready to tell him when he interrupts, “Oh yeah, something about my sense of humor, and your lack of one.”

  I glare. “You repeatedly pinning me to the ground isn’t humorous. It’s annoying,” I say, reaching back to smooth out the mess that is my hair.

  His eyes crinkle at the sides. “You know you secretly like it.”

  “You’re a pig.”

  He fakes a frown. “There’s no need for name calling, little virgin. I do it to prepare you, and I promised a buddy I’d cover what he hadn’t. Whether you like it or not is irrelevant.”

  I roll my eyes. “What is it that Gia sees in you? Did your mother ever teach you any manners—perhaps the meaning of the word no?”

  “You know this is different.” Walking behind the counter, he opens up a drawer and pulls out a protein bar. “I already told you,” he says as he takes a bite. “I made a promise … and I’m gon—”