by Emilia Finn
PLAYING FOR KEEPS
Checkmate, #4
Emilia Finn
PLAYING FOR KEEPS
By: Emilia Finn
Copyright © 2019. Emilia Finn
Publisher: Beelieve Publishing, Pty Ltd.
Cover Design: Amy Queue
ISBN: 9781075642739
This Book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This Book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return and purchase your own copy.
To obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text, please contact the author at [email protected]
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of Emilia Finn’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale, or organizations is entirely coincidental.
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Contents
Also by Emilia Finn
Looking to connect?
PLAYING FOR KEEPS
Prologue
1. Andi
2. Andi
3. Riley
4. Andi
5. Riley
6. Andi
7. Riley
8. Andi
9. Riley
10. Andi
11. Riley
12. Andi
13. Riley
14. Andi
15. Riley
16. Andi
17. Riley
18. Andi
19. Andi
20. Riley
21. Epilogue
Author’s Note
Riley and Andi are for my family –
For whom I work so hard for.
Without you, there would be no point.
But also, there would be no mountains of laundry, or dirty dishes, or spilled cereal, or broken sleep, or crumbs smooshed into my couch.
#worthit
Also by Emilia Finn
(in reading order)
The Rollin On Series
Finding Home
Finding Victory
Finding Forever
Finding Peace
Finding Redemption
Finding Hope
The Survivor Series
Because of You
Surviving You
Without You
Rewriting You
Always You
Take A Chance On Me
The Checkmate Series
Pawns In The Bishop’s Game
Till The Sun Dies
Castling The Rook
Playing For Keeps
Rollin On Novellas
(Do not read before finishing the Rollin On Series)
Begin Again – A Short Story
Written in the Stars – A Short Story
Full Circle – A Short Story
Worth Fighting For – A Bobby & Kit Novella
Looking to connect?
Website: www.emiliafinn.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/EmiliaBFinn/
Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/ds5vML
Email: [email protected]
The Crew: https://www.facebook.com/groups/therollincrew/
PLAYING FOR KEEPS
Checkmate # 4
Emilia Finn
Prologue
Life is all about choices, right?
Everything we do, from brushing our teeth in the morning, until we climb into bed at night, is a series of choices. Sometimes we make bad choices, sometimes they’re good, sometimes they’re made under duress, and sometimes they’re the lesser of two evils kind.
Sometimes there’s no choice at all, but you’re still forced to do something, because the world refuses to slow for you.
And sometimes, like in my situation, the one perfect choice stands right in front of you in a cop’s uniform and a beautiful smile, and he asks you to feel what he feels, to love him, to give him a chance, but your stubborn side wins more than it should, and the wrong choice slips past your lips even when you know it’s wrong.
Even when you know you’re hurting other people.
Pride.
It’s foolish to trade happiness for pride.
But that’s what I did.
That’s what I do.
I chose to hurt the one man I shouldn’t, all in the name of pride. I was running scared, when I should have been running toward him.
I was playing a game of self-preservation, when I should have been playing for keeps.
So many should haves.
And now it might be too late.
1
Andi
December
My trilling cell drags my attention from my last client of the day as she slowly limps out. Achilles surgery means physical therapy, which means a few more dollars dropped into my back pocket and another day of my miserable existence passing me by.
Despite my big, brave, don’t be a bitch speech in a club bathroom three weeks ago, I’ve become exactly the same as Mia; bitter and mean, because a boy doesn’t like me anymore. Because he won’t return my calls. Because it’s like I’m dead to him and not worth even an ‘it was fun, but we’re done’ text.
All because I caught feelings and took my insecurities out on him.
Bravo, Andi. Dumbass.
I ride my roller chair across my office and snatch up my blasting cell, and though I know it’s unlikely, a small part of my bitter heart hopes its Riley. I can’t stop thinking about him, and the longer he gives me the cold shoulder, the further I sink into my pit of loneliness and despair.
It’s like Mia and I should make club badges by this point. We’re both single, mean, and bitter.
Checking my screen, I let out a pathetic sigh and slide my thumb across to answer. “Hey, Linds. What’s going on? I haven’t heard from you in forever.”
“Hey, I’m sorry. It’s been crazy busy here lately. You know how it is. How are you?”
Lonely, petty, and five pounds heavier because I’ve been eating my feelings. “Good. How was Thanksgiving?”
“Eh…” She lets it drag out. “Wasn’t much of a thing this year. We had dinner and stuff, but it wasn’t very much fun.”
Faking a smile to convince myself I can still be happy, I tuck my cell against my shoulder and begin collecting my things to head home. “I’ll come next year and perk things up.” Maybe they’ll invite Riley, then I’ll defile him in public again and restart what I broke. “Of course yours sucked; your son is mean and won’t let you make out with your husband in public. That’s always gonna put a damper on things.”
“Yeah…” I expect a laugh, perhaps just a tiny chuckle, but I get nothing. My cousin is sad, and that adds more to the layer of anxiety that already sits in my chest.
“Lindsi? What’s wrong, honey? You’ve been quiet for weeks, and now you’re weird.”
“Nothing’s wrong with me,” she sighs. “Everyone has their own shit going on right now, so I guess I’m
just getting their spill-off grief.”
“Grief?” I pause with my keys halfway out of my bag. “Who’s grieving, Lindsi? What the hell is going on?”
“Everyone is. You don’t know?”
“Know what?” I throw my hand up. “I don’t know shit. Nobody calls me.”
“Oh…” It’s like I can almost imagine her waving me off. “Jess… you know Jess? Blonde. Twin.”
“The lawyer?”
“Yeah. She’s a freakin’ mess, Andi. Her boyfriend died.”
“Oh no!” I don’t even know the guy, and yet, I have to concentrate on keeping my empathetic tears at bay. “Died? Like, an actual death? That’s so awful!”
“Yeah. He was…” Pausing, she blows out a long breath. “Well, it’s a long story, but the point is, he died in a really horrible way. She’s in so much pain, it’s like all of us can feel it. Then her sister, the other twin, she’s practically become a mute, too, because rumor has it – and I haven’t asked for confirmation,” she rushes out, “because it’s absolutely not my business – but rumor is her boyfriend, her ex, whatever you wanna call him, is a total douchebag. And I don’t mean a regular douche, I mean the kind of douche I first married.”
“No!”
“Yes, but worse. My husband never sold me to other men.”
“Oh my God. Is she okay?”
“Not really.” She sighs. “She and Jess refuse to come out of their room. They just sleep all the time, always locked away, never talking. Oz said the guys have tried to bring a therapist in for both of them a hundred times, but they just won’t go. They won’t speak. They just stare at the wall, and when one of the guys go in to force them out, they start kicking and screaming until they’re left alone again.”
“Jesus.” Flopping back onto my stool, I hold a hand to my chest and stare at the ceiling. “That’s so awful.”
“Yep. Then Alex and Oz are both still healing.”
My heart skitters in my chest. “What? Why?”
“The fire. The one Kane died in… Oz and Alex were there and got a little burnt. They’re both okay,” she adds before I have to ask. “Just a few burns, a couple blisters. They’re treating them with a little cream each night, so it’s not a big deal.”
“How are the kids? They’re okay?”
“Yeah, Ben and Livi are a little quiet, I guess. But that’s everyone right now. Riley gets to come home in two more days, so that’ll help, I guess.”
“Riley?” I was waiting for her to say his name. Hoping she would. But a single second of relief immediately turns to dread. “Come home? Where’s he been?”
“He– You–” She sputters. “What?”
“What?”
“What do you know?”
“What do I know about what? I don’t know anything! You’re my source of local gossip.” I try to laugh it off. I try to joke and pretend his absence doesn’t hurt me. “Has he been on vacation?” Without me. Probably with the love of his life. Cocktails by the pool, couples’ massages, fancy dinners, and wedding proposals. He’s a romantic, he craves deep roots, but the second I started to feel something for him, the second I looked at us and saw a white picket fence, I panicked and tore those roots out. “Did Alex send him away for work or something?”
“No… Andi…” Her voice breaks. “Riley was… He was hurt.”
“Hurt? Like, he stubbed his toe, or he crashed his car? Because those are two completely different things.”
“Worse,” she whispers. “Way worse. He was hurt at work. He got shot.”
“Shot?” I shoot up from my stool and knock my bag to the floor. “Shot? Like with a gun?”
Her breath comes out on an explosive sob. “I thought you knew!”
“I didn’t know!” With shaking hands, I bend over and collect the shit that rolled from my bag. Lip gloss, tampons, cellphone charger, a packet of mint candies. “I haven’t talked to him in weeks. We… we had a fight, so he doesn’t take my calls anymore.”
“You did?”
“Yeah. I haven’t talked to him in three weeks.”
“It’s been three weeks.” Her voice cracks on every second word. “Exactly three weeks.”
“Oh my God. He wouldn’t take my calls in all this time.” I stuff my things into my bag and stand on shaking legs. “He wouldn’t take my calls.”
“He couldn’t. He’s been in the hospital.”
“Hospitals allow phones, Lindsi!”
“He was shot in the stomach.” Her choked whisper breaks my heart. “In the stomach and leg. He got really sick, so he was asleep for ages.”
Tears burn the backs of my eyes and slide over my cheek. Grabbing my keys again, I bend toward the black satchel in the corner of my office and sling it over my shoulder. Pushing the door open and jogging toward reception, I pass Carla and completely ignore her cheery farewell as I sprint into the street and toward my car. “He’s okay, right? You said he was; he was shot, he was sick, he was asleep.. Everything is past tense, so he’s okay now, right? You said he’s coming home.”
“Yeah… He’s being discharged soon. Oz is visiting with him right now.” And yet, she speaks in a tone that implies he’s dead.
“What’s wrong, Lindsi? What won’t you say?”
“Umm… nothing. It’s a miracle he’s alive, so we’re all focusing on that. The rest is just fluff.”
“Do you see him, Linds? Can you ask…” I stop at my car with a pounding heart. Leaning back against the door, I press my face into my hand and try to swallow the worry in my chest. “Can you ask if it’s okay for me to visit?”
“Visit?” She gasps. “Are you coming home?”
“I am now.” Turning, I whip the car door open and flop in. “Can I visit, Linds? I won’t take up much space.”
“Of course you can. You know you don’t have to ask.”
“I’m coming to see Riley. Can you tell him? Please smooth the way so he’ll see me. The last time we spoke, we fought, so he might not want to see me, but if you say it really nicely, if you tell him I’m really sorry, he’ll probably be okay with it.”
“Andi…” She pauses. “I don’t know. It’s not my place. He’s… it’s not as simple as you think.”
“I’m gonna book a flight, okay? The very next one. I’ll text you the details so you know where I am.”
“You know what? Why don’t you stay there for a little longer? If you fought last time, then now’s probably not a good time to catch up. He’s not in a good space to rehash old fights.”
“I won’t fight with him, Linds! I want to tell him I’m sorry. I want to ask for another chance. I want…” I swallow. “I want more.”
I rush home just as soon as Lindsi and I hang up, pack a bag, and run straight back outside again. Checking flight schedules at each red light, I send my apologies up to all the hard ass cops I know who’d ticket me for having my phone out while driving, then when I pull into long term parking, I sprint toward the check-in desks.
There are no flights left tonight, but there’s one tomorrow morning at six that allows small pets to be brought on as luggage rather than stowed away in the cargo hold. I make a bed out of coats in the flight lounge and tuck Nacho close against my body. Setting my alarm, I text Lindsi what time my flight is due to arrive tomorrow and beg her for a ride. Lying on my side, my head rests on my handbag, but I wish it was Riley’s chest. I wish Nacho’s heavy heartbeat beneath my hand was Riley’s, and the coats beneath my body were his plush bed.
Closing my eyes, I will the tears away when Riley is the first thing I see on the backs of my eyelids.
He’s the only thing I see anymore.
The big airport is an hour drive from the small town Riley lives in, so Lindsi picks me up and we make the drive in silence. For the first time in our whole lives, we don’t speak, because I can’t stop worrying about Riley. What isn’t she telling me? What is so bad, so horrible, that it hurts Lindsi to the point that her anxiety floats in the closed car and settles in my heart?
Of course I tried his cell again last night, but though it rang, which tells me it’s charged and being used, he doesn’t answer. He’s the sweetheart cop, the man that tolerated all of my bullshit and barely got mad when I tricked him into the lake, but now he ignores my existence. In my mind, I can imagine the way he probably stared at his cell each time I called, and told me to fuck off. The way he’d scoff, and maybe turn in his vacation-wife’s arms and laugh about the bitch he once knew.
Lindsi said he was hurt three weeks ago, and that he’s going home soon; that means he’s awake and able. That means he’s out of the woods and able to pick up a fucking cellphone.
He’s choosing not to take my calls.
“Wanna take your things back to the house first?... Andi?” Lindsi taps my arm. “Andi?”
My eyes come away from the treelined road. “Huh?”
“Do you want to take your things back to our place first?” She casts a glance toward Nacho, who sleeps in my lap. “Get your rat set up and comfortable?”
“She’s not a rat,” I pout. “She’s a pig, and she’s sweet, so don’t tease.”
A ghost of a smile draws her lips up. “Wanna take your sweet pig home first? She can sleep in the forest out back with the wolves.”
I don’t bite at her mean words. Instead, I scratch Nacho’s ear and comfort her, since the flight wasn’t exactly comfortable for her anti-social tendencies. “Can we go straight to the hospital? I want to see him. I feel horrible, like our fight is the reason he was hurt. Like, if I was nicer, less afraid, less bitchy, maybe things would be different for him.”
