Melissa and I hadn’t made a habit of talking unless there was a reason. I wasn’t sure if that had been more her doing or mine. I did know that along with the good memories attached to her voice, there were also too many that were bad. And Melissa knew that too.
“Well, first of all, how are you?”
“I’m good, I’m good. Busy but good. Just started the fall semester of classes.”
“Okay, so that’s good things are good. I didn’t know you were starting school. Is it a… What kind of program is it?”
“Master’s in sports medicine. Figured that’d be the most practical next step.”
Melissa laughed softly. “Listen to you being practical. I never thought I’d see the day.”
“Yeah, well, a lot’s changed I guess.”
The Ransom Melissa had last known was a kid in more ways than I realized at the time. I’d been nineteen, had just started my freshman year on a full ride, and thought I’d play professionally. It was the first time I was truly excited about my future, and I had every reason to be. I’d vowed to myself that my past was my past—that Melissa, Matt, and Emily were more than a family I knew from my after-school program. They were my family—the first real family I’d ever had. Or at least the first family I’d ever had who gave a shit about me. It was amazing how five years could feel like a lifetime ago, especially since I felt like I’d already experienced more of life than most people twice my age have.
“How’s Matt?” I asked, knowing the answer. It was one of the reasons I’d distanced myself from Matt and Melissa, and it made me feel like shit to acknowledge it.
“He’s okay. You know how he gets.”
I didn’t know if that meant he was drinking too much again—not that I could blame him if he was. Losing Emily had been one of the most painful experiences I’d ever had. I couldn’t imagine the hurt that came with losing a child, which was one of the reasons I never planned to become a father.
There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and I wondered if she was crying but was afraid to ask. I was such a pussy sometimes.
Her sniffle gave me my answer, though I wouldn’t acknowledge it out loud.
“We miss you, Rans.”
“I miss you guys too.” It was true. How could it not be? Melissa and Matt had been rocks for me after I’d spent most of my childhood being tossed around in a sea of uncertainty. I’d clung to them—all three of them—until three had become two. Then it just became too painful. For all of us. “I don’t wanna rush you off the phone, Melissa, but I gotta get back to work.”
“Sorry. I’ll get to it, then. Kari called us. Has she called you?”
Melissa already knew the answer to that, or she wouldn’t have contacted me.
“Yeah. A few times, I think. She only left a message once, though.”
“What’d she say?”
“Same thing Kari always says. She’s clean. She wants to see me. Typical stuff.”
“How’d she sound to you?”
“I don’t know. It was a short message.” I hadn’t even given it much thought because I had no intention of seeing her. I didn’t even know Kari well enough to evaluate her sobriety with any amount of accuracy.
“Well, she called me,” Melissa said. “We talked for a while. She sounded good. The best I’ve ever heard her sound, actually.”
“Well, considering her usual state, that’s hard to believe.”
A few kids had started tossing around a football, and they were waving me over. I held up a finger and gave them a nod.
“She’s your mother, Rans.”
I understood why Melissa always said that, but that didn’t stop me from hating it. Giving birth to me did not make Kari any type of mother. Matt and Melissa had been there for me long before they’d taken me into their home. I’d aged out of the system before Kari’s parental rights had been terminated and the Holts had gotten the opportunity to make me their son officially. But that didn’t mean they weren’t a million times better than the “parents” who’d created me.
“Yeah, well, that doesn’t mean a whole lot to me.”
“I feel like this time is different. I can’t really explain it.”
“You don’t have to.”
Melissa sighed heavily. “Look, you’re a grown man, so I’m not going to tell you what to do or how to live your life. Your decisions are yours to make. But just remember you have to live with those decisions. I’m not saying to do this for Kari. She doesn’t deserve that. I’m just saying maybe you should consider that talking to her might offer some closure for you.”
I doubted it, but I understood what Melissa was saying. It wasn’t in them to shut someone out because of their mistakes, especially if that person had found their way and was on a good path. And while I liked to think I could offer the same forgiveness, I knew it wasn’t true. Some damage was irreparable.
“I’ll think about it,” was all I could offer her.
“That’s all I’m asking. You know one day there’ll be a time when you don’t have this chance, and I wouldn’t want you to have any regrets when that day comes. You don’t want to leave anything left unsaid, you know?”
“Yeah.”
Emily had said something similar too once. That life was too short to cut people out of it, and that time wasn’t promised to anyone. It had been more of a general observation toward the end; she hadn’t been talking about Kari when she’d said it. But that didn’t stop me from drawing the connection myself.
“If she calls again, I’ll try to answer.”
“Okay. I’ll let you go. Love you.”
“Love you guys too.”
Neither of us spoke nor hung up.
After a moment, Melissa said, “And Rans, don’t be a stranger, okay?”
“Okay. You guys neither.”
The words we always said to each other at the end of our conversations were more of a closing than an actual promise. As much as we all wanted to be close again, we knew the memories we shared would never let that happen.
Chapter Eight
R A N S O M
I pulled up to the three-story colonial and double-checked the address before putting my truck in park and getting out. It was ten o’clock at night, and the last thing I wanted was to show up at the wrong house dressed as a police officer. You could really scare the shit out of people like that. I wouldn’t make that mistake twice.
I could hear music as I approached the stone pathway to the entrance. It was a nice neighborhood, which always made me feel more comfortable. Not that I was afraid to go to bad ones. I’d been in enough of them throughout my life to hold my own, but there was something that made me feel slightly uneasy about stripping in one.
It was like taking my clothes off increased my vulnerability. Maybe a group of women would hold me hostage, bound and naked until someone agreed to pay…well, the ransom. The ridiculousness of it all was too much to think about, let alone actually live.
It didn’t take long for a woman to answer the door, and she had a group of ladies behind her. I’d been told it was a surprise forty-fifth birthday party, so I hadn’t expected it to be as rowdy as it seemed to be. I was aware that forty-five wasn’t technically old, but I figured it would be tame compared to most of the twenty-something parties I typically worked.
“Someone called about a neighborhood disturbance,” I said. “I think you ladies better keep it down in here.”
The music blared so loudly, I wasn’t sure they could hear me.
A desperate housewife in leopard print approached me, curling her red hair with a finger. “Who called? Was it that bitch across the street?”
“I’m not at liberty to say,” I said, guessing she wanted me to play along, before taking a few steps inside and closing the door behind me. “This your house?” I put my thumbs in my belt and leaned back casually, broadening my shoulders and chest.
“It’s mine,” said a brunette who’d approached from behind her.
“And it’s
her birthday,” said another, “so don’t be too hard on her.”
“What seems to be the problem, Officer?” the birthday girl asked, her voice low like she was the one trying to be seductive.
It always struck me as odd that women were so turned on by men in uniform, especially when I took it off so quickly.
“The problem,” I said, stepping a bit closer to her, “is that this party is getting out of hand, and if you don’t settle down, I’m going to have to take matters into my own hands.” I removed my handcuffs and let them dangle seductively from my finger.
All the women screamed, and a few came running in from where they’d been pouring drinks in the kitchen.
“Take it off!” one yelled as she held up a red Solo cup that had the name Sleazy Samantha written on it in marker.
It made me ask to see the other cups: Dirty Denise, Raunchy Rachel, and Erotic Eve—which seemed oddly worse than the others, given the biblical allusion—were some of them, along with the birthday girl, Wild Willow.
I took Willow’s hand and put one half of the cuffs around her wrist.
She squealed happily while the rest of her friends hollered excitedly.
“Are you married, Officer?” she asked as I took her other hand and brought it behind her so I could cuff it to the other.
“I don’t think that’s an appropriate question to ask the person arresting you.”
Women loved when I played along and became a figure in their fantasy. I could understand it in theory, but it always felt a little weird to actually participate in the role play even though that was what I was there for. Well, that and to take off my clothes.
I grabbed a chair from the dining room table and lowered Willow into it before turning off their music so I could play my own. Then I pulled my speaker and phone out of my SWAT bag—which always struck me as funny since I was in a normal street cop uniform, though to date, no one had ever pointed out the oddity of it. A few seconds later, I had my playlist going and was moving to the rhythm while Willow blushed in her seat.
A few of the women began fanning themselves when I opened my shirt, and one even began pulling on it when I didn’t take it off right away. I let it slide off my arms before swinging it in the air and tossing it to the side like a bouquet at a wedding that all the women chased after. It was cliché but always earned an enthusiastic response from the crowd.
“Look at his muscles!” the redhead screamed much louder than necessary. “He’s so…big.”
“Let’s see how big he really is,” called another. “Take your pants off.”
I glared hard at her. “I thought I was the one giving the orders.” But I began unbuckling my belt anyway, and I unbuttoned my pants and pulled the zipper down a little but left them on for the time being.
The women groaned in frustration, and I almost laughed.
I moved around Willow, grinding the air between her legs before flipping over into a handstand so my crotch was practically face-level with her.
The women hollered beside us.
Once I was upright again, I kicked off my shoes and pulled off the quick-release pants. Willow was red now, and I wondered if I was too. No matter how many times I did this, it still felt a little strange having people gawk at me while I was almost naked.
Dirty Denise and Raunchy Rachel pulled a few five-dollar bills out of their bras and slid them into the waistband of my black G-string.
I’d never gotten used to that either.
“Here,” Denise said to Willow as she held out a few ones toward her. “Take it with your mouth and put it in his underwear.”
“That’s disgusting.”
“I’m sure he’s clean,” Denise said. “You showered earlier, right?”
“Not him,” Willow said. “It’s disgusting to put money in my mouth.”
“I put it in the washing machine earlier.”
“That’s smart,” Erotic Eve told her. “You’ve always been such a good planner.”
“So you basically laundered money so I could put it in a stripper’s thong?” Rachel asked.
“Yes. But not laundered Ozark-style. I only did the washing part. It’s not like it’s drug money or something.” Denise turned to Willow again while I kept dancing. “Now put it in your fucking mouth.”
I tried to focus on the job I’d been hired to do, but I couldn’t stop myself from wondering if this was what Taylor, Sophia, and their friends would be doing in twenty-some years.
Probably.
Willow put her hands on my chest, and as she went lower, I prepared to move them if needed. Someone turned up the music a little more, and I couldn’t hear much of anything except the song.
That was until I heard, “Mom? Mom!”
I looked to my right to see a girl who couldn’t have been more than sixteen standing with her mouth agape near the door.
“What’s going on?”
Willow jumped up, obviously forgetting that she had her hands cuffed behind her back, and she stumbled as she tried to find her balance. “It’s not what it looks like, Tione!”
“Really? Because it looks like you have some stripper’s balls in your face and you’re enjoying it.”
Okay, so it was pretty much exactly what Tione thought it looked like.
“Does Dad know this is happening?” She was already pulling her phone out to call.
“He knows I was having a girls’ night here for my birthday. That’s why he went to play pool with the guys. I thought you were staying at Madeline’s.”
“She’s a bitch.” Tione’s voice got noticeably more somber. “Kaitlynn told me Madeline put up a Snap about how my jeans make my ass look flat.” She sounded like she might cry.
I need to get the hell out of here.
“I’m so sorry, Tione.” Willow began walking toward her daughter but tripped as she approached her because she was still handcuffed.
I reached out to grab her, but as I leaned down, Willow’s head slammed into my eye, causing both of us to lean back in pain. And because I instinctively brought my hand up to my face, Willow fell backward when I let her go.
“Get these things off me!” she screamed, trying to stand without the use of her hands to help her stabilize herself.
“Sorry.” I crawled toward her on my hands and knees, just wanting this night to end. I liked being almost naked in front of a teenager about as much as I liked getting hit in the eye. I grabbed my pants to fish out the small key but couldn’t find it.
Panicking, I stood without realizing I was under the table. “Sorry,” I said again when my head hit the table and caused a few drinks to spill.
By now, Tione was crying, and I didn’t know if it was because of what she was witnessing or because her friend had been an asshole.
Thank God I never planned to have kids. Parenting seemed like a job I wasn’t cut out for. Like stripping.
A few moments later, I found the key, unlocked the cuffs from Willow, and did my best to help clean up the drinks that were all over the table and carpet. I wondered if the red stains would come out, but I didn’t actually want to ask.
“I’m gonna go.”
“That’s probably best,” Dirty Denise said. “Here’s the balance.” She reached into her purse and handed me some cash.
“It’s not necessary.” I pulled my shirt on but didn’t bother to button it or put on my pants because snapping them up the sides would have taken too long. I hoped my shirt covered my bare ass. “This was a complete disaster. I injured the guest of honor and spilled stuff everywhere. It’s okay. Honestly,” I said when she didn’t look like she was going to let me leave without paying me for the full night.
Finally conceding, Denise dropped her hand.
On my way out the door, I looked at Tione, who was still in tears. “Sorry you had a bad night.”
“Thanks,” she answered softly.
“And sorry about”—I motioned around the room—“dancing with your mom and stuff. You know, without any clothes on.”
I nodded silently, knowing that anything else I said would only make the situation more awkward than it already was, and headed for the door. And as I sprinted to my car, wearing nothing but a G-string and an open shirt, I was thankful that at least it wasn’t winter.
T A Y L O R
Like every Monday since classes had begun, I’d spent the majority of my time watching lectures I would’ve otherwise been in class for and gathering research for presentations. While I was glad I could do all of it remotely, I didn’t realize how antsy I’d get sitting at a desk for most of the day. Though that was still preferable to looking over my shoulder when I walked around campus alone.
It felt good to go out for a run after a day cooped up in the house. I could stretch my legs, burn off the large iced latte I had earlier, and watch everyone going about their business in town before heading to my shift at Safe Haven. It was the first week of school for the kids, so my routine had already changed. But that also meant some new kids, which made me feel more comfortable since I was still new too.
As I jogged in place at an intersection, waiting for the light to turn green, I looked around at the people nearby, most of whom were likely college students walking to or from class or grabbing a bite to eat at a café or coffeehouse.
Once I’d gone a few miles and had worked up a pretty big sweat, I headed back to my apartment to grab a shower and change before work. As I rounded the corner to my street, I saw the man who’d offered me twenty bucks my first night there.
He was leaning against the exterior of our building, his words coming out in puffs of smoke as he talked with another guy I’d seen around. He was younger, probably only a few years older than me, and looked gaunt in a way that made me wonder if he was on drugs or couldn’t afford food. I was an asshole to think that, but chances were good it was one or the other.
When the older man saw me running toward him, he threw down his cigarette. “You okay? Whatcha runnin’ from?”
“I’m fine. I just went for a jog,” I said, slowing to a walk as I approached my building.
Ready or Not (The Love Game Book 4) Page 7
