by K. A. Berg
He places the box on the ground and tries to step closer to me. “No, Danielle, my mistake was taking you and what we had for granted. I know I fucked up royally, but it doesn’t mean I don’t love you. We can fix this.”
My anger rises and surges in my chest. How can he stand here and tell me more lies? Is he this disillusioned to the entire situation?
“Scott, you need to leave.” Before I grab a butcher knife from the kitchen and pull a Lorena Bobbitt on your ass.
“Come on, Danielle. We need to talk. Please. I’ve changed. We can still make this work. I’ll do what I have to in order to prove it to you.”
His begging is pathetic. He just doesn’t get it.
“There is nothing—not a single damn thing or even a million things combined together—you can do to fix it. We. Are. Over.”
Ryan rounds the corner, entering the hallway, just as Scott says, “Not if you give me another chance.”
“Everything okay here?” Ryan asks as he reaches us.
The tension in the hall is thick, and I’m surprised Mrs. Martinson hasn’t come out yet.
“We’re fine,” Scott replies with no clue that Ryan can easily tell something is wrong. No clue that Ryan knows every detail of our story and its terrible ending.
I shake my head. “We’re not fine. You need to leave now, Scott. You made your bed. Now, go sleep in it with whoever you do on Saturday nights.”
Ryan chuckles, which draws Scott’s attention to him.
“Is there a reason you’re still here, man?”
Ryan stands taller, about four inches over Scott’s average five-foot ten height and looks down at him. “I think the better question is, why are you still here? Danielle asked you to leave.”
Scott’s eyes flicker back and forth between Ryan and me as he finally realizes that Ryan isn’t just a neighbor. “Who is this douche, Danielle?”
Ryan’s sardonic laugh echoes throughout the hall. “I’m the douche? You’re the one who got caught cheating, tried to take your mistress on your honeymoon, and needed to be hauled off by the cops. And I’m a douche?”
Scott’s eyes narrow, and he glares at me. “Are you seeing this chump? Is that why you won’t listen to me?” He steps back and looks Ryan up and down. His eyes focus on his tattered looking jeans and button-down shirt rolled up to his elbows, exposing the tattoos covering Ryan’s arm. He sneers. “Wow, I guess all your standards went out the window, huh?”
Everything raging inside me explodes as I step into Scott and shove my finger into his chest, pushing him back a step, making him almost trip over the box he placed on the floor. “You don’t get to judge me or who I go out with! Ryan is a thousand times the man you’ll never be. You messed up, not me! We are done. Over. I don’t know how else to say it. I don’t want you or your filthy dick. Go back to your girlfriends and have fun. Don’t ever come back here again. You’re not welcome. The police last time should have made that clear to you. Do I really need to get a restraining order?”
“Fuck this,” he says, stepping over the box “You aren’t worth the trouble.”
Ryan moves to him, getting dangerously close to his face. “She’s more than worth the trouble. Don’t take it out on her because you couldn’t figure that out before you fucked up the best thing that ever happened to you. Your loss is my gain. Now beat it. Don’t let me catch you here harassing my girl again.”
Scott’s hand balls into a fist, but rational thought must prevail because he turns and walks away, mumbling a bunch of shit I couldn’t care less about.
“Hi.” Ryan smiles as if nothing just happened with Scott.
“Hi,” I reply back, trying to calm my nerves. “Sorry about that.”
He reaches around me and pushes open the door to my apartment, guiding me inside and out of the hall. “No worries. Are you all right?”
I take a deep breath and exhale slowly as we head inside. “Yeah. I wasn’t expecting him. I thought it was you. That’s twice he’s gotten me like that.”
“Twice?” Ryan asks, his voice sounding slightly mad. “He’s been here, harassing you, again since the cops dragged him away?”
“No, only that time and the day after we were supposed to get married. The day I wound up in your bar. I thought he was the delivery guy that day.”
Ryan shakes his head and pulls me into him, wrapping me in a much-needed hug. “I think you should start checking the peephole before you open the door.”
“How on earth can he think I’d take him back?”
His hand runs up and down my back in a soothing manner. “Like I’ve told you before, the man is an idiot.”
I laugh. “You can say that again.”
Ryan steps back and asks, “Do you want to skip the fundraiser and stay home? I’m sure Evan would understand.”
“Hell no.” I shake my head. “I’ve been looking forward to this. I’m not letting Scott’s stupid ass ruin it. You’re just scared I’m going to show you up with my blackjack skills.”
Ryan was telling me about a fundraiser he was going to with his friend Evan. Some kind of casino night run by the PTA of his friend’s nieces’ school. I like cards. Love blackjack and poker. I’m surprisingly good at blackjack. I can hold my own in poker, but I really only know how to play five-card draw. Ryan invited me to the event, challenging me to put my money where my mouth was. I’m interested in meeting his friend as well. Ryan has spoken about him often, but I’ve yet to meet him.
“Well, okay, note to self: Danielle has a competitive side.” He smiles. “And by the way, you look beautiful. I like the lipstick.”
I purse my lips, doing my best duck face. “Thank you.”
He chuckles. “I also brought you a present.”
“Another STD?” I ask with a tilt of my head.
He smirks. “You know it.”
“Which one this time? Because I’m currently worried there are crabs in the box of stuff Scott left in the hall.”
He pulls the pink toy, which looks like a coiled snake, from his pocket. “Aren’t girls always saying how much they’d love it if the men in their lives gave them syphilis?”
“You brought me syphilis?”
He nods with a bright smile. “Yep. Just look at how cute and pink it is.”
“We’re moving into serious territory now. Syphilis is forever.”
“Nothing but the best for you, Dani Girl.”
“Wow,” I say, taking in the banquet room.
The school really did an outstanding job for this. A red, black, and white balloon arch fills the entrance. Different gambling tables are set up throughout the room with official-looking dealers standing behind them. Table upon table lines the outside of the room with prizes and baskets. Servers are making rounds with drinks on their trays.
“This is incredible.”
Ryan looks surprised himself. “This is much more than Evan made it out to be.”
“Do you see him?” I ask, curious as to what to expect when it comes to Ryan’s friends. I’ve met his employees, who he treats more like family, but that’s it.
Ryan scans the large room and then squints toward the far corner. “He’s over there, in the back.”
We make our way through the crowd toward the stage set up at the far end of the room. A group of people is standing there, chatting. A tall man with sandy hair takes notice of our approach and grins.
“You made it,” he says.
He and a small woman next to him step away from the group. The man, who I’m assuming is Evan, looks from Ryan to me, and a frown mars his face.
“Evan, this is Danielle,” Ryan introduces us. “And this is his sister, Cara.”
I smile and offer my hand despite the weird vibe I’m feeling from Evan. “It’s so nice to meet you.”
Evan takes my hand somewhat reluctantly as if he’s not sure if he should touch me. “I’ve heard a lot about you,” he says dropping my hand. “Just remember this is an event for a school and children.”
Wha
t an odd thing to say. It catches me off guard and I’m not sure how to respond. Thankfully his sister saves the day.
Cara, in the complete opposite manner of her brother, shakes my hand and thanks me. “Ignore him. It’s so nice of you to come and support the girls’ school.”
“It’s no bother at all,” I tell her still not fully understanding what’s going on with Evan. “I’m a teacher on the other side of the city. I was more than happy to come and support the cause. Plus, I have every intention of showing off my blackjack skills since this one over here thinks I’m bluffing.”
Ryan laughs and shakes his head. “I never said that. I said I wanted to see you in action with my own eyes.”
“Then, you show him,” Cara says, smirking at Ryan. “I’d love nothing more than to see someone humble Ryan.”
Ryan and Cara seem to have a nice relationship. Evan, on the other hand, seems to be looking me up and down as if he thinks I brought a bomb to the event. “You’re a teacher?” The tone of his voice is a mixture of horror and surprise.
“Yes,” I nod.
Cara redirects my attention from her brother’s less than welcoming appraisal back to her. “What grade do you teach?”
“Kindergarten,” I answer.
Evan snickers and mumbles under his breath. “Figures.”
“Knock it off,” Ryan chides him.
“What?” Evan shrugs. “It’s fitting.”
“What’s fitting?” I ask, not following their conversation.
Ryan gives him a stern look, but Evan gets a little glint in his eye. “You and Kindergarten. Only a crazy person would want to spend ten months a year surrounded by five-year-olds and you’re certifiably insane, so it fits.”
“That’s it,” Ryan says grabbing Evan’s arm and pulling him a few steps back. “I’d like a word with you.”
A server comes back with a tray of champagne, cutting us off from Ryan and Evan.
“You must have a lot of patience,” Cara says, trying to pull me back to the conversation. “Kindergarten is a rough year, no?”
“You didn’t tell me you were bringing her,”
“What difference does it make?”
“When are you going to screw this chick out of your system? It’s been like two months.”
“You’re a real ass you know that?”
I grab a flute from the server as I strain to hear more of what Ryan is saying to Evan. “Yes, and no. The first month is rough. The acclimation can be hard for some kids, but after they get used to school and our routine, it really becomes so much fun.”
“This is for the girls’ school, she better not bring her special brand of crazy to the party tonight and make a scene.”
“Jesus, Evan, grow up. Stop being a dick and don’t make Danielle feel uncomfortable.”
Cara starts speaking and it drowns out the rest of Ryan and Evan’s conversation. “I had one daughter who loved the idea of starting school and another who hated it. It was hard for my older one when she went. She’s eight. But my six-year-old, she couldn’t wait to go to school like her big sister. With the divorce and everything that has happened over the last few months, I’m looking forward to getting them back into school and some structure again.”
Cara seems darling. We chat for a few minutes, mostly about her daughters, Emma and Kiley, but my attention is still partially drawn to the private conversation between Evan and Ryan. Evan walks off as Ryan moves back to me and Cara.
“He doesn’t seem to like me being here,” I say to Ryan. “I can leave if it’s going to make things awkward.”
Ryan adamantly shakes his head. “Ignore him. He’s just being an ass.”
I don’t like the idea of Ryan and his best friend bickering over me. “Ryan, I don’t want to cause a problem for you guys. I can leave. It’s no big deal.”
“Nonsense,” Cara interrupts. “I don’t know what Evan’s problem is but ignore it. You are most certainly welcome here. We’re all here to help the school and the kids. You two go on, look around, and play some games. Kick Ryan’s butt in blackjack. The tables for those are toward the front of the room.”
Ryan escorts me around, his hand possessively placed on the small of my back. “Forget about Evan and let’s have some fun.” We find a table with only two other people and watch as they finish their hand.
“Well, that’s it for me,” one gentleman says as he stands and knocks on the table. “Thanks.”
We sit, and the dealer deals us in.
The other man at the table has seventeen, and Ryan gets thirteen. And I have a three and an ace—four or fourteen.
The dealer shows a six.
The man on the right of Ryan decides to stay.
Ryan calls for a hit. He draws a five. “I’ll stay.”
“Ma’am?” the dealer asks me.
I tap the table. “Hit.”
It’s a seven.
“Twenty-one.”
My smile stretches across my entire face as I turn toward Ryan.
“I’ll be damned.”
The dealer reveals his base card. A nine. He hits and busts at twenty-three.
“Are you doubting me now?”
We play for a little while, and I walk away with a ton of play money to buy tickets for prizes.
“Why doesn’t your friend like me?” I ask, unable to ignore it any longer.
Evan has barely spoken to us since we arrived, and Ryan came to support him. I don’t like feeling like I’m causing a problem between them.
Ryan sighs. “Honestly, because he’s a judgmental asshole.”
“Huh?” I ask. “But I’ve never met him before. What on earth would he have to base his judgment on?”
Ryan spikes an eyebrow. “The same reason Mercy and Amelia were ready to help you nail my balls to the wall the night you guys all came in.”
It clicks. “Ohhh.”
“He’s being a dick,” he says. “He’s usually not.”
I shrug, trying not to take it personally. “He’ll eventually get to know me and realize I’m not as crazy as he thinks.”
Ryan disagrees. “Regardless, he was rude, and I don’t like it.”
“Let it go,” I say, placing the last of my tickets in different prize buckets. “I’ll just have to win him over.”
Ryan still carried a bit of tension in his shoulders for the rest of the night. I did my best to laugh and make conversation so he knew that Evan’s judginess didn’t affect me.
All in all, the night was pretty great, and I won a few prizes. Mostly things I can use for my class, which makes me happy—a huge basket of Crayola stuff, like markers, crayons, and model clay—and I won another basket filled with books.
Too bad I didn’t win over Evan, but I’ve got time.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Danielle
As Mercy and I exit the building, all the campers sent home to their parents for the weekend, we hear the revving of a motorcycle.
A sleek black and blue street bike comes to a stop in front of the gate of the school. A man wearing a leather jacket and jeans sits astride it, his face hidden by the dark shield of his helmet.
Mercy whistles. “Break me off a piece of that.”
“You haven’t even seen the man’s face.” I shake my head. “What if Shrek is under that helmet, huh?”
She hitches a shoulder. “Then I’ll picture Jason Momoa as the vibrations from riding his bike make me come.”
I laugh. “There’s something wrong with you. Why would you ever get on the back of one of those death traps?”
She stops short of the chain link fence surrounding the school yard, grabbing my hand and spinning me to face her. “It’s an experience you don’t forget. It’s hard to put into words, but there’s something about it. The wind in your hair, holding onto a man, being wrapped around him as you feel the muscles in his back and arms and stomach flex and control the bike under you. It’s almost erotic.”
“Jesus, you look ready to come just thinking abou
t it. When have you ever even been on one before?”
“College,” she answers, “A few times. One of the bartenders at the off-campus bar everyone loved had one. I rode him and it once or twice.”
“You’re crazy.”
Her eyes widen, then a sparkle shines from them before she says, “Oh my god, this is great.”
“What?” I ask. “What’s great?”
She juts out her chin and says, “See for yourself.”
I turn. Leaning against the motorcycle is Ryan. His helmet resting on his hip. A cocky grin spreads on his lips as my jaw drops. “You?”
He chuckles. “Me.”
Mercy sighs next to me looking Ryan up and down as if he’s her dream man come to life. “Damn, he just keeps getting hotter and hotter.”
“Stop it.”
“What?” she says. “It’s not my fault your boyfriend is panty-melting.”
“Shut up.” I growl as Ryan approaches.
“Hi,” he smirks.
“Hi.”
“How was your day?” he asks nonchalantly.
“Good,” I reply. “What’s with the bike?”
He glances back over his shoulder and then looks back to me. “Oh, that? We’re going for a nice ride.”
I snort. “Like hell we are.”
“I’ll go for a ride,” Mercy volunteers a bit too enthusiastically.
After she practically just came in her pants merely thinking about being on his bike, I don’t think so. Reaching out, I pinch the skin on the inside of her upper arm. “Over my dead body.”
“Ouch, Jesus,” Mercy whines. “When did you become so savage?”
“Savage would have been shanking you.” I say. “You’re lucky that’s all I did.”
Ryan seems to find this interaction all too amusing as he just stands there grinning. “Ladies, ladies . . . no fighting. There’s enough of me to go around.”
“See . . . it’s all good, Dani,” Mercy instigates. “We can both sit on his bike.”