Ready or Not (The Love Game Book 4)

by Elizabeth Hayley

  “So…your dad,” he said again.

  Groaning, I flopped down dramatically, splaying my arms onto the counter and dropping my head on top of them.

  “And the Oscar goes too…” he teased, the jerk.

  I turned my head toward him but didn’t lift it. “In my defense, I tried to tell my dad almost two months ago.”

  “Tried to?”

  “Yeah. He called me a boy-crazed follower, so I left and moved into this place in a fit of petulant rage. We haven’t spoken since.”

  “That’s…extreme.”

  “It felt incredibly justified at the time.”

  “And now?” he asked, looking genuinely curious.

  “And now I think I probably should’ve thrown it in his face. Would’ve been much more gratifying to leave him wondering if I’d be abducted on my way home.”

  Ransom scowled at me.

  “Too soon?” I asked.

  “It’ll always be too soon for that.”

  “Sorry. I’m making inappropriate jokes to hide my discomfort.” And my fear, but I didn’t want to admit to that much. Not that he hadn’t already figured that out. I’d called him in the midst of a panic attack after all. The guy wasn’t just a pretty face.

  He shook his head but didn’t comment on what I’d said. Instead, he gave me a look that made me feel like a schoolgirl who’d asked her teacher about the functionality of the rhythm method.

  “You have to tell him, Taylor.”

  “Honestly, I’d rather race the Iditarod with a sled pulled by Chihuahuas than have that conversation at this point.”

  His lips twitched at the corners, but he schooled his features as he took two steps toward me and rested his forearms on the counter so he was more in line with where I was still draped.

  “I’ll do whatever I can to help you, but I can’t be the only one who knows. If something happened…” He trailed off as he took a deep breath. The emotion on his face was almost jarring.

  Ransom was scared for me. It was clear as day on his face, and I felt wholly unworthy of his concern but was thankful to have it nonetheless.

  He cleared his throat before speaking again. “If something happened, your dad would probably be able to get things in motion a lot faster than some dudebro who works as a stripper. Please. You have to tell him.”

  Letting a sharp yet brief exhale leave me, I stared at the way light stubble dotted his otherwise smooth skin, the intensity of his blue eyes, the hard set to his angular jaw. It was a lot to put on his shoulders, even if they looked strong enough to handle it. But more than that, I didn’t want to let him down. He was basically pleading with me to do what I knew was the right thing. Only an asshole would discount that. Not that I could say all that.

  “You’re not a dudebro.”

  “You thought I was. At first at least.”

  I shook my head, which was difficult since it was still pillowed on my arms. “Never.”

  He gave me a small smile, and I almost got lost in it.

  Then he ruined it by saying, “Call him, Taylor.”

  I jerked to a stand. “What? Now?”

  “No time like the present,” he said as he stood and made his way out of the kitchen.

  I followed like an ornery duckling. “I’ll do it when you leave. What kind of host would I be if I abandoned you while I took a call?”

  He scooped my phone off the coffee table and held it out to me. “I can leave.”

  “No!” I yelled with a little more alarm than I would’ve conveyed if I could’ve had a do-over. “I mean, no,” I repeated at a more acceptable volume. “I don’t want you to go.”

  He wiggled the phone that was still in his hand, causing me to take it from him with the same degree of enthusiasm one might have if they’d been handed a rattlesnake. Then he plopped down on the couch, grabbed the remote, and settled back as he turned on the TV. By all accounts, he was making himself at home.

  “Then I’ll wait,” he said as he rested one ankle across the opposite knee.

  “At least one of us is comfortable,” I muttered.

  He dropped his leg and leaned forward. “I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable. But I’m also worried that if I let you put it off, you won’t call him. And I can’t… It’s your safety we’re talking about here. I can’t take that chance.”

  I stared at him for a second before breaking. “Ugh, fine. God, I wished I’d known you were some kind of guilt-trip expert.”

  “If there was one thing my mom taught me, it was how to be an exemplary manipulator.” He kicked back again, a tad smug with having gotten his way.

  “I’ll have to thank her with a postcard laced with anthrax,” I said drolly.

  “With as much gin as she’s consumed in her lifetime, bacteria doesn’t stand a chance.”

  “Guess I’ll have to get more creative, then.”

  “Guess so.” He watched me earnestly for a minute before waving me toward the bedroom. “Hurry up. I’m hungry.”

  “We can always eat first—”

  “Taylor,” he warned.

  “Okay, okay, I’m going.”

  I approached my bedroom as a nun might approach the second circle of hell. Once inside, I wasted some time observing the room as if I’d never been in it before. Then I plopped down on my bed and stared at my phone for an emo-filled moment before acknowledging that I was going to make the call—if for no other reason than I didn’t want to disappoint Ransom—and that putting it off was only making my anxiety higher.

  Taking a deep breath, I found my dad’s contact info and tapped Call.

  Part of me worried he wouldn’t answer. That I’d pissed him off enough that he’d send me straight to voicemail. In the split second between connecting the call and the first ring, I’d almost convinced myself of this scenario, so when he picked up after the second ring, I fumbled the phone in surprise and nearly dropped it.

  “Taylor?”

  “Dad. Hi. How are you?” Lame. I rolled my eyes at myself at how formal I sounded.

  “Oh, I’m okay. Better now that I’ve heard from you.”

  “Phone works both ways,” I said before I could censor it. Being acrimonious wasn’t the way to kick this off, but my words were the truth.

  “Yes, well, I thought you needed a…cooling-off period.”

  He thinks I’ve come to my senses. That I’m calling to apologize. And maybe, in a way, I was, but not how he thought, and my feathers ruffled at the implication that I was the only one in the wrong.

  Ransom was right. I should’ve been more honest about my reasons for leaving school, but my dad wasn’t free from blame. He had been an epic twat the night I tried to talk to him, and I couldn’t let it go. Not completely.

  “I think we both did,” I said even though I actually wanted to tell him I’d like him to cool down in the Arctic Ocean with an anchor strapped to his ankle.

  He hesitated. “Yes, maybe you’re right.”

  It was a small concession, but one I clung to like a life preserver. I didn’t want to fight with him, but I didn’t want to do all the fence-mending either.

  “I have something I need to tell you,” I said. “It’s what I was trying to tell you that night before everything went to hell. And I need you to just listen to me so I can get all of this out.”

  I was a little curious about what was running through his mind: torrid love affair that led to an unwanted pregnancy, drug-muling for a cartel, an accidental murder of a hitchhiker on a stormy night. But I didn’t ask.

  Instead, I told him the story of Brad. And he honored my wishes to not interrupt until I got to the part about him showing up and confronting me at various places around campus last spring.

  Then, the man I always knew him to be, erupted in a fit of parental rage.

  “What’s this asshole’s last name? I’m calling the school. He’ll be expelled before the night’s over. We’ll have you safely back in classes by the end of the week. We can get a restraining order for good mea
sure.”

  I blinked back tears. This was the exact reaction I was counting on when I went home to dinner that night almost two months ago. My protector, my dad, ready to draw his sword and fight for me.

  But that wasn’t what I got, and something about getting it now seemed hollow. I had no doubts my dad was already looking up the number for the dean. He could and would fix it for me, which was exactly what I’d wanted.

  It just wasn’t what I wanted anymore. Or at least not the whole of what I wanted. I didn’t want him to simply fix it. I wanted him to understand. To ask how I felt about going back to school instead of assuming it was a foregone conclusion that I’d want what he wanted for me. That we could wipe the slate clean and go back to life as it had been a year ago.

  Unfortunately, there was no wiping Brad clean. I had a feeling his imprint would remain on my psyche, like a fly smudged by windshield wipers leaving streaks of what was left behind.

  There was more to my story, but I decided not to finish it.

  When I’d gotten Brad’s text, my first instinct had been to go to Ransom, not my dad. And Ransom had come immediately. Maybe with that kind of backup, I could face this. I wouldn’t ask anyone to fight my battles for me, but there was definitely something appealing about knowing people had my back if things went to shit. And really, what did I actually have to fear? Brad had never been violent. I could handle him.

  So I attempted to assuage my dad by lying. “Brad already graduated. The campus just holds…bad memories. I’d feel better if I could just be done with it.”

  “I don’t want him to get away with how he treated you though, Taylor.”

  “I appreciate that. But I honestly think it would do more harm than good to have to dredge all that up again. I just want to move on.”

  “Well…all right…I guess.” He sounded like it was very much not all right, but I was glad he wasn’t going to fight me on it.

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  “Do you need anything else? Money? You can come home and stay if you want.”

  Maybe it was petty, but I didn’t want anything from him.

  “No, I’m fine. Really.”

  “Okay, if you’re sure…”

  “I am.”

  “Maybe we can go to dinner sometime soon? Just the two of us.”

  It was an olive branch, and I wasn’t going to punish us both by refusing it. I didn’t want to have a bad relationship with my dad. He and I had never fought like that before, and being upset with him was draining.

  “Sure. I’d like that.”

  “Great. I’m away on business next week, but I’ll call you when I get back to set something up.”

  “Looking forward to it.”

  He paused for a second before speaking again. “I love you, Taylor.”

  I’d never doubted it. “I love you too, Dad.”

  We hung up, and I gave myself a moment to get my head together. The talk with my dad hammered home for me how much I still needed to grow up—learn to fight my own battles. I couldn’t rely on other people to swoop in and save me. While I trusted my friends to be there for me when I needed them, I didn’t want to need them for this. Brad was a sickness, and I desperately wanted to stop the spread.

  With at least a few things decided, I stood and took a steadying breath before leaving my room and rejoining Ransom in the living room. I threw myself beside him and concentrated on the TV.

  “All done. My dad’s going to take care of it.”

  “That’s a relief, right?”

  I shot him a quick glance before refocusing on the television. “Absolutely.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  R A N S O M

  I walked into Safe Haven later that night so I could be there for the after-care program like I’d promised Harry. He’d said he could stay, but the guy worked pretty damn hard already. I didn’t want to add to his plate.

  I swung by his office, popping only my head inside. “Hey, Harry. Just wanted to let you know I was here. The kids already in the gym?”

  He jerked his head up and looked at me with red-rimmed eyes and a sallow expression as he frantically pushed papers around his desk and threw a few things into his satchel.

  “Oh, Ransom, hi. Thanks.”

  He went back to his task, his movements jerky and harried. He looked about two steps away from a panic attack. And man, I’d had my fill of those for a few days at least.

  Despite that, I still felt torn about what to do. Though Harry and I were friendly, we weren’t actual friends. His problems were none of my business. But he was a good guy, and I wanted to help him if I could.

  “Hey, uh. Harry? You okay, man?”

  He looked up at me again before pulling off his glasses, tossing them on the mound of papers on his desk, and rubbing his eyes.

  “Sorry, uh, I just got off the phone with Justin. His dad had a heart attack. His mom isn’t sure… It looks bad. We’re heading up there as soon as I get home.”

  “Oh, shit. Harry, I’m so sorry.” I knew from conversations over the past year that Harry was close with his in-laws. “What can I do?”

  “I don’t… God, this is such a mess. I’m going to have to be out for a while. I’ve already contacted Stacey. She’ll step in in the interim, but could you help her out? It’s been a while since she filled in over here.”

  Stacey was one of the community center directors. She spent most of her time dealing with funding and program implementation for high school kids and adults during the school year, but she worked closely with Harry for the summer camps. They often covered for one another when necessary.

  “Yeah, sure. No problem,” I assured him.

  “Great, thanks.” He grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and gave his office one more cursory glance before heading for the door.

  I stepped back to let him through, but he stopped suddenly in the doorway as his phone started ringing.

  He answered it immediately. “Hi, babe. I’m on my way. Oh. Shit,” he hissed, grimacing so hard I thought he’d hurt himself somehow. “It’s okay, we’ll figure it out. Did Paul have any recommendations for other dog sitters?”

  Justin said something on the other line I couldn’t hear, but whatever it was made Harry’s lips thin into a line.

  “Maybe you should go on ahead until we can find someone else for the dogs.”

  That suggestion was not well-received if the loud voice emanating from the phone was anything to go by.

  “I know you need me and the kids with you. I’m just not sure what else to do,” Harry said in a voice that sounded close to breaking.

  I waved my hand in front of Harry to get his attention.

  “Hang on a second, Justin.” Harry looked at me expectantly.

  “I’m great with dogs.”

  “Huh?” Harry said, his brain clearly a bit sluggish with all he had going on.

  “I’m assuming your dog sitter isn’t available. I can watch your dogs.”

  Harry bit his lower lip for a second, and then Justin said something to him. “What? Oh, yeah. Well…Ransom just offered to watch the dogs.” He waited a beat for Justin to respond before continuing. “Yeah, he is. Definitely. I’m sure. Okay. Be there soon.” Harry disconnected the calls and put the phone in his pocket before looking at me. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

  “Not a bit.” Which was a bit of a lie. Cramming dog sitting into my schedule would be a nightmare, but Harry was great, and if I could ease his burden a bit, I would.

  “I…I really appreciate it, Ransom. We’ll pay you, of course.”

  Shaking my head, I said, “No, you absolutely will not.”

  “Ransom,” he warned.

  “Harry,” I said, mimicking his tone.

  He sighed. “We’ll hash it out when I get back. Is there any way you can follow me to my place so I can introduce you to the dogs and show you where everything is? Then I’ll give you a key so you can go grab your stuff and come back.”

  My stuff? “Oh, you
want me to stay at your place.”

  He rubbed his jaw. “It would be easier. We have three dogs, one of which is a new rescue, not even a year old. He chews everything in his path, so it would be better if someone could be there for more than just to walk and feed them. Is that okay?”

  “Sure,” I replied, because I’d already offered so I wasn’t going to split hairs at that point. Harry and Justin both worked, so I was sure the dogs would be able to spend enough time on their own for me to do the same.

  Harry looked relieved. “Great. Ready to go?”

  “Don’t you need me to stay for the after-care kids?”

  He waved me off before starting to walk out of Safe Haven. “I asked Roddie if he could stay in case you ended up not being able to come in after all. Speaking of that, is everything okay with you and Taylor?”

  “Yeah, we’re good. She just needed some help with something.”

  He nodded. “Well, if either of you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to come to me.”

  I smiled. Such a nice guy. “We won’t.”

  Once we were in the parking lot, I climbed into my truck and followed Harry the twenty or so minutes to his house. It was in a nice neighborhood where everyone had well-maintained lawns and lived-in homes. Harry pulled in the driveway of a blue split-level house while I parked on the street out front. There was a basketball net at the top of the driveway and some scattered toys littered across the lawn. It looked like a happy place, and I briefly wondered what it would’ve been like to grow up in a place like this.

  Harry hustled to the front door, and I jogged to catch up to him. He threw open the front door, and we walked into pandemonium. There were bags scattered around the base of the staircase, toys strewn everywhere, dogs running toward us with kids following close behind.

  “Papa, Daddy was crying!” an adorable little girl yelled as she crashed into Harry and hid her face in his stomach.

  Harry bent to drop a kiss on her head. “It’s okay, baby. He’s just sad. It’ll be all right.”

  Two young boys crowded around, and Harry drew them into quick hugs when he managed to untangle his daughter from his body.