Resisting Ryann Page 8

  “Says who?” I look at her surprised, and she grins.

  “Says who do you think? The first thing Logan did when he saw him was congratulate him.”

  My mouth drops open, and I roll my eyes. “What’d Luke say?”

  “That it didn’t happen … told Logan he had it wrong.” She shrugs.

  I picture Logan with his hand in the air, motioning a high-five like he’s still in high school. I lick my lips. “It wasn’t the right time. You know … with Luke leaving again. Things are complicated enough.”

  She nods. “Yeah, I agree …” Silence. “Anyway, I’ll let you shower. Are you working today?”

  I start peeling off my clothes. “I’ve got to be there in a few hours. I think I slept less than that.”

  She yawns. “Sucks to be you. I’m going back to bed. See you later.”

  I’m on my way to work and decide to phone my mother for the umpteenth time. This is the longest stretch we’ve gone without talking, and I’m beginning to worry.

  “Hello?”

  It takes a moment to register she’s answered.

  “Mom?”

  “Reese. Hi baby,” she coos in a motherly voice. I’ve never understood why she uses it. She isn’t the motherly type. “I haven’t heard from you in forever. Where have you been, honey?”

  My brows shoot up. “Where have I been? Where have you been?” My mother’s crazy. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for three weeks. Have you checked your messages lately?”

  “Yeah, I’ve checked them. I don’t recall getting any messages from you, and I’ve been here. Tim!” she shouts, her voice muffled through the phone. “Tell Reese I’ve been here for the past three weeks. She says she’s left messages.”

  I’m not arguing about whether or not she was there, and I don’t want to waste this call on Tim.

  “She’s been right here,” he says in the background.

  “Tell her I haven’t gotten any messages,” she whisper yells at him.

  “She hasn’t gotten messages.”

  I roll my eyes. Whatever, I don’t care. I’m just glad she’s okay.

  “I was on my way to work and wanted to check on you. I miss you, Mom,” I say, pulling into the parking lot. I only have a few minutes to spare.

  “We’ve been busy, busy, busy!” she squeals. “Tim and I are almost settled in. We’ve painted walls, hung decorations. We still have a little unpacking ahead of us. But we’re making plenty of progress,” she adds with relief in her voice. “I can send you pictures if you’d like?”

  I smile. “I’d love that. I’m glad you’re doing well.” And I mean it. She sounds happy, which almost makes me teary eyed.

  “We are, Reese. We love it here. With lakes, ponds, and trees wherever you go. There’s nothing but green. North Carolina is definitely different from Phoenix,” she murmurs. “You’ll have to see it sometime.”

  “Maybe I will.” I spot a few students walking toward the entrance. I get out of my car, locking it up. “It sounds beautiful. I’m really happy for you.”

  “It is, honey. How are things over there? Have you talked to your father lately?”

  “I have … he’s doing really well,” I say, scurrying ahead toward the double doors. “Listen, I’m at work so I have to let you go. It was good to hear your voice, Mom.” I wave to Pam, standing behind the counter with a brilliant smile on her face.

  “It’s good to hear from you, too, baby. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “I love you.” There’s a click on the other end, so I put the phone away and shove my purse in the cabinet. For the first time in my life, I’m beginning to think my mother’s going to be okay.

  We’re in a new season, and this is a brand new class—my largest group yet. We start out by teaching simple basics in self-defense—a video the first week, then the next we go over and review. It’s always best to keep a situation from getting physical, if possible. Sometimes it’s not, though, so I teach them how to protect themselves if that situation arises. There couldn’t be a more fulfilling job for me.

  “Okay kids. That’s it for this week. You all did great!” I smile, meeting each of their eyes. Two of them simultaneously raise their hands.

  I point to the shorter girl standing to my left—surprised she has a question. She’s been abnormally quiet since we’ve started. I think her name is Erica.

  “When are you going to teach us the good stuff?” she asks shyly.

  “Very soon,” I tell her. “Since we’re only in our second class, you’re learning the basics. I’m sure some of you already know most of them, but you’d be surprised by how many don’t,” I say, placing my hands on my hips. “Once I see that you have them down, we’ll move on to the rest. How’s that sound?” I ask, raising my brows.

  She grins, seeming pleased by my answer, a hint of pink showing on her cheeks. Some of the girls cheer around me. This time we have a boy in class, but only one. I can see he enjoys the attention he’s getting; the girls seem to love him.

  The second girl lowers her hand. “Did you have a question?”

  “You answered it.” She smiles.

  “Okay then, anyone else have a question?” I ask, clasping my hands together. “All right, class is over.” I wave. “Next week is spring break, so I’ll see you all in a couple of weeks.”

  Wrapping a towel around my waist, I make my way to the door. Chance’s ears are pulled back, and he’s baring his teeth. “Hold up, buddy.” Grabbing his collar, I peer through the peephole. My father and Rachelle stand on the other side. “We’ve got company,” I tell him, unlocking the door. I have to force him back when I open it—he’s a good judge of character.

  “Wasn’t expecting company,” I say, gesturing them inside. “Let me throw something on real quick.” I’d gotten back from Phoenix a couple of hours ago and just stepped out of the shower.

  Glenn treads toward the couch, hesitantly taking a seat. “That isn’t necessary. I won’t be long.” He watches Chance, who’s fierce and ready to attack him. I’m unable to let him go.

  Good job, buddy.

  Rachelle chooses the recliner, crossing her legs back and forth. She eyes me under lowered lashes. “Do you always answer the door half-naked?”

  “Why are you here?” I ask my father, ignoring Rachelle.

  His gaze moves from me to the dog, then his hand rests on his gun.

  “Hold on a minute.” I put Chance outside, set out some water, then shut the door, striding back into the room.

  This seems to have relaxed him. “I don’t think he likes me very much.”

  “Me neither.” I rake a hand through my wet hair. “Let’s start over. Why are you here?”

  “You had a rough night,” he says like this concerns him. “I came here to check on you … to let you know how proud I am.”

  My gaze falls to the ground. “I’m not going to lie to you. It was tough, but like you’ve said, ‘business is business.’ It had to be done. And sorry about Gage.” Don’t be an idiot. He knows you hated him. “Actually, I’m not. I hated the guy.”

  Glenn laughs out loud—unexpectedly. There’s a gleam in his eyes. “He was a bit of a pest. Wasn’t he?” he says, framing his chin with his finger and thumb before Rachelle and I are joining in the laughter. It feels fifty shades of crazy, but I play the part.

  A moment later I lean against the wall and cross my arms. Glenn stands up and walks over, handing me a nine-mil. “It’s yours. You’ve earned it.” He holds my stare—like he’s searching for some sort of father and son connection.

  I swallow the bile crawling up my throat and examine the gun. “’Bout time.”

  “Thought you’d like that,” he says, giving a single nod. “Maybe it’ll relieve some of the tension.”

  “I’m sure it’ll help,” I mumble back.

  He smirks, running a finger across his lips. “There’s one more gift, but unfortunately it’s just a loaner. I’ll need it back tomorrow.”

  Still playing wit
h the gun, I say, “Yeah, okay.” I set it down to give him my full attention. “What is it?”

  He clasps his hands behind his back. “Rachelle, do me the honors. Tell him what it is.”

  Her eyes slowly rake over me before she purses her lips and says, “Me.” Crossing her other leg, she adds, “I’m your gift.”

  I let that settle in. “This is a joke, right?” Holding out a hand, I gesture. “No offense. ” I chance a glance at my father. “You two aren’t together?” I cock a brow, pointing back and forth between them.

  He chuckles, patting me on the back. “Ah son, you amuse me. She’s an escort.” He tilts his head. “You ever been with an escort?” he asks, watching me curiously.

  “I’ve never needed an escort.” If I refuse her, he’ll be suspicious—maybe think I’m still hung up on Reese. “She any good?” I walk toward her, then lift her chin to get a better look at her face. She licks her lips, expecting me to kiss her, but I hold back. She wants this.

  “I’ll let you be the judge of that.” His eyes sparkle. “Don’t have too much fun. It’s just for the night. I have a meeting to attend.” He looks at his watch. “Tomorrow there’s a potential business partner I’d like you to meet. In the meantime, enjoy your night off.”

  My eyes flick to Rachelle. She watches me with hooded eyes. This could be one of his ploys—to see if I’d go through with it. With him it’s hard to tell. “I’m sure I will. Thanks for the gift.” I grin. “I hope she can handle me,” I say, walking him to the door. “It’s been a long time.”

  “You have no idea what I can handle,” she replies seductively.

  I glance over my shoulder, and she winks.

  “We’ll see about that, sweetheart.”

  “Tomorrow then,” my father says, eyes moving to Rachelle. “Let me know when you contact your friend.”

  “I’ll call you,” she answers.

  I look from one to the other. “Friend?”

  He waves it off. “She can fill you in tonight if you’re curious … guns,” he sighs. “Anyway, I must get going.”

  Gripping the doorframe, I ask, “Is there a time you want me to have her back?”

  He pauses. “That’s entirely up to you, son. We’ll figure it out tomorrow. I’ll be at the shop.”

  “See you then.”

  I close the door and lock it before treading to the back to let Chance in. He races through the kitchen and into the next room, sniffing the area where my father sat. “He’s gone, buddy,” I tell him. He sniffs around some more then raises his leg. “Chance! Don’t even think about pissing on my couch!” Giving me the sad eyes, he lies down.

  Rachelle giggles across from him. “He’s a beautiful shepherd.”

  “Yes he is,” I reply.

  “Looks like he has it out for Glenn.”

  “He does.”

  “Why do you think that is?” She stands up, stepping closer. I can smell her perfume.

  “Not really sure. Why don’t you ask him?” I say, flicking my eyes to Chance. “I’m going to put something on.” Leaving her there, I make my way to my room, slamming the door behind me, then quickly putting on some clothes. I rest my hands on the dresser, hanging my head in defeat. I have no idea what to do with this woman.

  I hear Chance scratch at the door. I let him in, and he jumps on the bed and stares at me. “What? You were ready to piss on my couch.” I scratch behind his ears. “You don’t like the girl?” He tilts his head. “Trust me. I didn’t invite her.” I’ve officially lost it. I’m explaining myself to a dog.

  “Now that’s a lie,” Rachelle interrupts, standing in the doorway. Her arms are folded, and one of her brows is arched high—like she’s offended.

  I rub the space between my brows. “Don’t waste your time, sweetheart.” Walking into my closet, I grab a shirt and the smallest pair of shorts I own. “I’m not interested in what you’re offering,” I say, tossing them to her. They hit her in the chest and fall to the ground. “And put on some clothes.” She’s wearing a very short skirt with stripper heels. Her tank top is at least three sizes too small. She looks trashy.

  “Figured you were all talk.” She starts taking off her shirt.

  I walk out of the room. “You can sleep in here tonight. I’m taking the couch.” Chance follows behind me.

  “You sure you want to sleep alone?” she asks, coming out of my room a moment later.

  I sit in the lazy boy and flip on the television, wondering how, a girl like her ended up in this situation. She’s young and attractive, yet she’s prancing around a man who’s old enough to be her father.

  She takes a spot on the couch. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks insecurely.

  I wonder how much he’s paying her. “Is it the money?”

  “Is what the money?” She’s feigning stupid, but I see through it.

  “Don’t give me that shit,” I say, looking at her pointedly. “Are you doing this for the money, or is it more than that? Do you owe him for something?”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” she says. “I’m an escort. Of course it’s for the money.”

  “Are there different fees for different services?”

  “Yes.”

  “So what’s my old man pay to nail you and pass you around? Just curious.”

  Her eyes fall to the floor. “I …”

  “Don’t you think that’s messed up? Is it really worth the money?”

  Lifting her chin defiantly, she says, “Sometimes we have to suck it up and do things we may not like to do. Don’t you agree?”

  I snort. “Not what you do.”

  “You’ve never been with a hooker?”

  I grin. “That all depends on your definition of hooker. Have I ever paid for sex? No.”

  “I find that hard to believe,” she murmurs under her breath.

  “Why pay for sex when I can have it for free?” I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “You’re wrong, sweetheart.”

  “Defensive, aren’t we?” She arches a brow. “You think you’re the only one who has them fooled?”

  “Quit speaking in code and spit it out. Enough of this back and forth shit. Just say what you want to say.”

  “I know everything, Luke.”

  I cock a brow. “You saying you’re some kind of psychic?”

  “Tell me the real reason why you’re here—about the fire that killed your mother.”

  My blood runs cold, and I scrutinize her with my gaze. She must have good reason to bring up my mother. “How about you tell me, Rachelle, or is Rachelle even your name?” I tilt my head. “Are you a cop? A fed disguised as a hooker?”

  She clears her throat, fidgeting on the couch. “An escort, remember? And yes, I’m working undercover, so you can spare me the motivational speech about my choices.”

  “What do you know about my mother?” I ask calmly, wanting to get to the point, even though I’m far from calm.

  “If I do, are you going to be nice?”

  “Fuck nice! Tell me what you know!”

  Her eyes widen. “You think you can keep that temper in check when you’re facing your father tomorrow?”

  My hands clench into fists. I grab the remote and turn off the television. “He did it, didn’t he?”

  “The night your father introduced us, you mentioned your mother,” she replies softly, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I asked him about it later.” She pauses. “He said your mother had threatened to turn him in if he took you along on a deal he’d been planning. There was a lot of money involved. Drug money,” she confirms.

  “Go on,” I say, gesturing her to continue.

  “He said it wasn’t worth the chance. He told Valdez about her warning. Together, they decided to take care of her.”

  I blow out a breath then lean back in my chair. “Valdez.” Of course. It all makes sense—everything she said. Closing my eyes, I rub the space between them.

  Gentle hands rest on my shoulders. “You’re rig
ht to go after him,” she murmurs, as her fingers start to massage me.

  “Why would he tell you this?” I’d be stupid to trust her. She’s just a stranger claiming to work for the FBI. Maybe she does … maybe she doesn’t. How am I to really know?

  Her hands still for a second, and then she’s massaging again. “A warning.” Bringing her head down close to my face, she adds, “To scare me into keeping my mouth shut.” Her eyes move to my lips. She wants me and doesn’t care to hide it. “Whether you believe it or not, I’m on your side.” She smiles. “You can trust me.”

  I jerk out of my chair. “I’m going out.” Making my way to my room, I shut the door behind me and reach for my phone. The call to Andrew goes unanswered. I pocket the phone in my jeans and grab the keys to the Harley.

  “I’ll go with you,” she announces when I walk past her.

  Shaking my head, I tell her, “Stay here. I need to be alone.” My eyes lift to hers.

  She frowns disappointedly. “Just don’t do anything stupid.”

  I tap the doorframe. “I’ll try not to.” I pause, looking for something else to say. “Anyway, thanks … for telling me about my mother.” I don’t wait for a response. Instead, I shut the door.

  I stopped at a Circle K to pick up a twelve-pack after roaming the streets for about an hour. Being away from Reese, and the stress of what I’m living day to day, is driving me to drink—helps me forget how miserable I am.

  I hope she liked the flowers. If she felt anything like I did when she woke up, she needed them. It killed me to leave her there—her hair sprawled out on the pillow, looking beautiful in my shirt, and even more so when she was out of it. It took all my restraint not to take her right then and there. I couldn’t do it—not without her knowing the truth, not until this is over. She deserves that and so much more.

  I wish she’d told me about the preppy neighbor. My mind runs rampant with thoughts of him wiping away her tears, comforting her, touching her body. I cringe as I pull up the driveway, staring at my house.

  When I step inside, Rachelle’s curled up on the couch, in the same place where I left her. I imagine her as somebody else with big green eyes then flick my gaze to the TV. That alien movie with the tall blonde chick, the one who used to be a model, is on. I forget what it’s called.