Alpha Mail

by Brenda Rothert

  ROUGHRIDER16: What the hell? Are you okay???

  ROUGHRIDER16: Sienna, answer, please. Are you okay?

  ROUGHRIDER16: If you don’t respond within ten seconds, I’m calling 911. Please fucking respond.

  ROUGHRIDER16: I just called 911 and your office. Say something, Sienna.

  I see movement outside my office through the glass wall. My payroll clerk, Sandy, is staring at me, wide-eyed. She must be the one who got the call from RoughRider and came to check on me.

  “What can I do to make this better?” I ask Bella, hoping to defuse this situation without anyone else being endangered.

  She shakes her head and glares at me. “I don’t know! I can’t talk to Isaac anymore. Can you bring him in here so I can talk to him?”

  Shit. I can’t put Isaac in that situation, but I don’t want to upset Bella further.

  “I would, but I don’t think he’s here right now.”

  “Why not? He always works at this time on Tuesdays.”

  Her stalking game is strong. I’ll just have to bluff my way through this.

  “He said he had an appointment out of the office this afternoon. I think he’s getting a tattoo.”

  “Really? Of what? Did he say what?”

  “Someone’s name, I think?”

  Bella breaks into a smile. “My name?”

  “Might have been.”

  “I knew he had feelings for me. I knew it.”

  I try to smile at her, hoping it doesn’t come off as terrified as I feel right now. When I look back out the glass wall of my office, Sandra is gone. Suddenly, a uniformed CPD officer shows himself to me, then dodges back out of sight immediately. Bella didn’t see him because her back is to the glass wall and door.

  “I want to know everything about him.” She nods, liking her new idea. “Do you have a file for him? With pictures and information? I want to see it.”

  “I’ll show it to you, but it’s not in my office. It’s in Human Resources.”

  She considers, looking at the office door. “Okay, take me there.”

  Bella puts me in front of her, holding on to a handful of my shirt and shoving the barrel of the gun against my back. We’ve just made it out the door when she’s shoved away from me. I trip forward, landing in the arms of an officer in tactical gear, who sweeps me away as Bella is tackled and disarmed.

  The officer takes me to the break room, where I sit down. That’s when I start shaking, the terror of the situation finally safe to fully feel. I cry a little and drink some water. Once Bella has been taken away, I go out to the main lobby area of the office to answer questions for the officers there. They’ve only gotten one question out when Coop comes flying through the elevator doors the moment they open.

  “Sienna, thank God.” He wraps me in a huge hug, exhaling deeply. “I heard the call come over the radio, and I got here as soon as I could.”

  I hug him back, his embrace comforting me. “I’m okay, Coop.”

  Coop’s best friend Ryan races up behind him, his whole expression falling with relief when he sees I’m okay.

  “You called Ryan?” I give Coop an admonishing look. “That was kind of overkill. I don’t need both my big brothers running to my rescue.”

  Coop furrows his brow and looks at Ryan. “No, I didn’t call him. What are you doing here, man? How’d you know?”

  Ryan’s dark brown eyes are on me, swimming with emotions: apology, relief, fear, and something so intense it takes my breath away.

  When it hits me, it hits hard. Ryan knew what was going on without Coop calling him because it was me who told him. He was the one who called 9–1-1. The one frantically asking me if I was okay. The one who sent me the flowers. The one who said I mean everything to him.

  “No.” My lips part with shock and disbelief. “I can’t . . . Ryan . . . it’s you? You’re RoughRider?”

  #gutted

  Ryan

  THE DISAPPOINTMENT IN Sienna’s eyes is like a boulder falling on my chest, the weight nearly unbearable. This is what I couldn’t bring myself to face—her discovering her secret admirer is me and wishing it were someone else.

  “Rough rider?” Coop narrows his gaze on me. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “Let’s not talk about it here,” I say.

  “I think we should.” His tone is challenging.

  My tone is definitive enough to cut him off, though. “I think you should shut up and focus on your sister.”

  He’s sulking as Sienna returns to be questioned by the police. I move to lean my back against a wall in the lobby, alone, so I can process the jumble of thoughts and emotions inside me.

  “What the fuck is going on?” Coop hisses in a loud whisper.

  Of course, he followed me. Fucker won’t rest until he knows the entire story.

  “We’re not talking about it here.”

  “Then let’s leave.”

  I glare at him. “I’m not leaving until I know Sienna’s okay.”

  “She’s surrounded by cops. I think she’ll survive.”

  “I don’t just mean physically okay, douchebag.”

  Coop leans in, his face inches from mine. “You know who’s in danger of not being physically okay? You, when I hear my little sister associating you with the word ‘ride.’”

  I exhale hard, folding my arms over my chest. “We’re not having this conversation here.”

  “I’ll kill you, Ryan. Your guilt is written all over your smug-ass face right now, and I’m gonna strangle the life out of you with my bare hands, you miserable, no-good son of a bitch.”

  There are two reasons I didn’t want Sienna to find out I’m RoughRider—I didn’t want to face her disappointment, and I didn’t want to face Coop’s wrath. He told me a long time ago that she’s hands-off. I always respected it—still am, actually, because I haven’t laid a hand on his sister. Both of those issues kept me up at night when I considered telling Sienna who I really am, and now here I am, dealing with them at the same time.

  “Let’s focus on Sienna for now,” I say in a level tone.

  “Sounds like you’ve been overly focused on her.” He scowls at me, his hands clenched into fists.

  I take a deep breath, forcing myself to stay silent. Sienna doesn’t need any more stress right now, and if Coop and I get into it near cops who don’t know how we are around each other, one or both of us may end up in jail.

  Coop’s next to me, his back also against the wall, and he’s muttering without looking at me.

  “If you touched my sister, you gutless bastard, I will neuter you while you sleep. I’ll crush your fucking nut sac with a hammer. You’ll be gutless and nutless, you dirty—”

  I cut him off. “Shut it, Coop. You sound ridiculous.”

  “You won’t be laughing when I break your fucking nose, asshole.”

  “Yeah, ’cause I’ll just take that, right? I’m stronger and faster than you, and I’ve been lifting heavy with my team every day, fucker, while you sit around the fire station eating doughnuts.”

  “Okay, cocksucker, outside. Now.”

  I turn on him, the first to speak in a tone above an angry, hissed whisper. “Yeah? Because a perceived insult to your sister’s honor is one thing, but a comment about the number of doughnuts you eat is worth fighting over?”

  Coop’s face is red with anger as he pulls up his T-shirt. “Abs.” He points at his stomach. “I didn’t get those by eating doughnuts all day, asshole.”

  “Put your shirt down, dumbass.” I shake my head, embarrassed by his display.

  One of the cops is giving us a side eye, and I’m not getting kicked out of here without knowing Sienna is okay. The last thirty minutes have probably taken years off my life. I handed my last history class of the day off to an assistant principal and drove to Sienna’s office as fast as my truck would go, pounding on the steering wheel with frustration at every red light.

  When I couldn’t find parking near her office, I took a spot a half mile away and ran
the rest of the way. I was beside myself, a caged lion, on the elevator ride up to her office suite. Thoughts raced through my head faster than I could process them. There was one that kept repeating itself:

  She has to be okay. I haven’t even told her I’m in love with her.

  I’ve loved Sienna in secret for so long that it’s become part of me. She’s the reason I don’t date anymore. I tried for a long time—years, but no other woman affects me the way she does. Her laugh takes my breath away. Her smile makes my heart race. And seeing her in a skirt . . . well, it really does work me up like nothing else, just as I told her.

  Damn, was it good to tell her that. Even though she didn’t know it was me, I finally got to be honest with her about my feelings as RoughRider. She’s more under my skin than ever now, but it’s a high I can’t get my fill of.

  She was never supposed to know, though. Our messages were a way for me to know her in a way I wanted like nothing else, but never thought I could have. When I read the article about Alpha Mail in the Sun, I realized I could contact her without her knowing it was me. The temptation was just too much.

  And once I got a look at the side of her I’ve always wanted to see—the side that’s all woman—I couldn’t look away.

  Coop and I wait in silence until the police finish questioning Sienna, and then he approaches her and offers to take her home.

  “No, I’m . . .” She looks around until her eyes lock on mine, and damn if my pulse doesn’t pound harder with every passing second. “ . . . fine, Coop.”

  “What’s going on between you and Ryan?” he demands, trying his glare on her now.

  “It’s . . . I don’t know.” A slight pink flush spreads across her cheeks.

  Coop looks back and forth between us, then crosses his arms. “I’m not leaving here till one of you tells me what’s going on.”

  The elevator doors open, and a blond man practically runs to Sienna, looking her over from head to toe.

  “I just heard. What the hell did she do now?”

  Sienna holds out a hand in an effort to calm him. “I’m fine, Isaac. No one was hurt.”

  “She pulled a gun on you?” He runs a hand through his hair, eyes wide with shock.

  “Yes, but I’m okay.”

  “Shit. If I’d been here, she wouldn’t have come after you.”

  “You don’t know that. This isn’t your fault. She’s mentally unstable.” Sienna consoles him, ever the level-headed woman I’ve grown to adore.

  Isaac takes a deep breath in and out. “If they don’t keep her in jail this time . . .” He shakes his head and looks away.

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Sienna says. “The police officers who interviewed me said they need to talk to you too. So can you go to the station and do that? Then take the rest of the week off, okay? You’ll still get paid, and we’ll cover your work. Just try to get your mind off all this.”

  He nods, his expression still somber. I take it this is the guy the woman who got arrested was really after.

  As soon as he’s out of earshot, Coop looks between Sienna and me again. “Who’s gonna tell me? Or should I just assume the worst and kick Ryan’s ass as soon as we get outside?”

  “Coop.” Sienna gives him an admonishing look.

  “You’re not kicking anybody’s ass.” I gesture toward the elevator. “I need to talk to Sienna alone, so hit the road.”

  Coop’s eyes bulge with surprise. “Hit the road? The only thing I’m gonna hit is—”

  “Enough, Coop,” Sienna says firmly. “I’m twenty-eight years old, I can take care of myself. I appreciate you coming here to check on me, but I’m fine.”

  Coop scowls at me, a vein in his neck standing out. “I’ll be waiting for you when you get home.”

  “You’ll be waiting a while, because I have practice till eight. The offensive coaching staff doesn’t take it as easy as the defensive.”

  He doesn’t take the bait. “Just call me when you’re done.”

  “I’ll get right on that,” I say in a wry tone.

  “We’re not done.”

  “We are for now.”

  We have a stare-off for a few seconds, and then he hugs Sienna and leaves. When it’s just the two of us, neither of us seems to know what to say.

  “Do you, uh . . . want to talk in my office?” she offers, an awkward expression on her face.

  “If you’re up for it. Are you still feeling shaken up?”

  She shakes her head and tucks a section of dark red hair behind her ear. “No, I’m okay. We can . . . let’s go talk.”

  I follow her down the hallway, not focusing much on my surroundings even though it’s the first time I’ve been to her office. My gaze is narrowed on the way her legs look in her skirt and the way it hugs her ass just the right way. Lucky fucking skirt.

  “This is me,” she says, standing aside as she opens the glass door of a large, bright office.

  “After you.”

  She steps inside and I follow, the door closing behind us on its own.

  Her office is painted a pale turquoise shade, the walls adorned with black and white photos of ornate old buildings. A bookshelf behind her large wood desk is filled with paperbacks, knickknacks and framed photos.

  She leans back on the front of her desk and locks eyes with me. “Why did you do it?”

  “Why?”

  Doesn’t she know why? Her expression is confused and crestfallen. I knew she’d be disappointed, but she looks completely devastated right now.

  “Was it a joke?” she asks softly.

  Blood rushes to my head as I process her words. I’m so taken aback I can’t even speak for a few seconds. “A joke? You think the whole thing was a joke to me?”

  “I don’t know, Ryan. That’s what I’m asking.”

  Her hurt expression guts me. Never did I expect this. I have to set her straight.

  “No, it wasn’t a joke, Sienna. I’ve been in love with you for a long time. Years. I knew I could never tell you, but I saw a chance to get to know you in a way I never thought I’d be able to, and I . . . I took it. I never meant for you to find out.”

  “That’s not possible.” She shakes her head slightly, her brow furrowed.

  “What’s not possible?”

  “That you’re in love with me. You don’t even think of me that way. I’ve always been like a little sister to you, same as Coop.”

  My breath catches in my throat as I try to figure out how to tell her the truth. “It was that way when we were kids. But things changed for me, Pup. I remember the exact moment it happened, and—”

  “When?”

  I sigh heavily. “When Coop and I were seniors in college, and he asked me to come over and help him move an entertainment center for your parents on a weekend. You came down the stairs dressed for prom, and . . .” I can still see her that day, radiant in a dark green sleeveless dress, and the memory renders me speechless for a second. “ . . . that was it. I was so goddamn jealous of your date when he touched you, and it wasn’t a brotherly kind of thing anymore. It was because I wanted you for myself.”

  “Ryan,” she says in a breathless tone. “That was ten years ago.”

  I nod and fold my arms over my chest. “Yeah.”

  “But you . . .” She shakes her head. “You’ve been with women since then. There was that time I saw you downtown with that blonde a few years ago.”

  “I knew it would never happen between us, Sienna. I knew you didn’t see me that way, and I knew Coop wouldn’t let me even try if you did. So I tried to shake the feeling by dating other women, but it never worked. I started to feel bad about it, like I was using them, so a few years ago, I stopped.”

  “Stopped dating? Altogether?”

  “Yeah.”

  “But you’re so . . . I mean, you’re in your prime.”

  I shrug. “So are you.”

  We just look at each other for a few seconds in silence. The look on her face is killing me. There’s shock and d
isbelief, but not a hint of happiness or hope. It’s just as I expected, but it still hurts like a bitch.

  “I’m sorry, Sienna,” I manage. “I’d never intentionally mislead or disappoint you.”

  She nods, looking dazed. “I wish I could . . . I don’t even know what to say.”

  “I get it. You don’t think of me that way.”

  She looks down at the ground, seemingly ashamed. “No, I don’t. I’m so sorry.”

  I knew the truth, but I never wanted to hear her say it. At least I had an ounce of hope before, and our limited interactions when we saw each other through Coop. Now, things will always be awkward between us, and my friendship with Coop is probably shot too.

  Fuck. Why did I ever send that first email?

  “I’m gonna go,” I say, needing air, space . . . anything but that crushed expression on her face.

  I turn and leave the office, knowing it’s no one’s fault but my own that things will never be the same.

  #mrlennox

  Ryan

  A COUPLE DAYS later, I’m standing in front of my American History class, leaning back against the front of my desk, when I completely forget where I was going in my lecture.

  “So, uh . . . Hoover . . .”

  “You okay, Mr. Lennox?” a girl in the front row of desks asks.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I just . . . lost my train of thought.”

  “That’s ’cause this Hoover guy is boring,” a mouthy guy in the back of the room cracks.

  “Herbert Hoover was anything but boring. He was a self-made millionaire who arguably fed more people and saved more lives than any single man in history. He even had a sport named after him. You ever have a sport named after you, Declan?”

  He scoffs as students around him snicker.

  “Hell, I’m only fifteen. Gimme time.” His grin is arrogant. “I’ll probably have a whole state named after me or some shit.”

  I fold my arms across my chest, waiting patiently as Declan’s friends laugh and fist bump him for his outburst.

  When the noise has died down, I say, “As you will recall from the talk I gave on the first day of class, and the syllabus you signed, Declan, you just scored yourself a special assignment. I’ll be looking for a one-thousand-word paper on the origin and historical uses of the profane word you just used on my desk Monday morning.”