Ready or Not (The Love Game Book 4)

by Elizabeth Hayley

  I’d made it at least five minutes before my phone dinged with a text alert. Goddammit! Clearly the universe was against me.

  “I’m not going to look at it. Just gonna keep on working,” I muttered to myself like I was one of the psychopaths I was learning about.

  My intentions were good. I wanted to ignore it. But then I started to obsess about who it could be, and that made focusing even more impossible.

  “Fine, I’ll just look who it’s from,” I whispered to myself as I unlocked my phone so I could view the message. “Then I’ll get back to work.”

  But when I looked down at my screen, I knew there was no way I’d be getting any more work done. It was from another unknown number—probably because I’d blocked the other—but there was no doubt who’d sent it. Because filling my screen was a selfie of Brad, smiling widely, with the caption Guess who’s in town? Can’t wait to see you.

  What. The. Fuck? Goose bumps spread across my skin, and I shivered.

  This couldn’t be happening. I clicked on the picture to enlarge it, and I nearly threw up.

  Brad hadn’t just sent me a random selfie. He’d sent me one from the Treehouse. He seemed to even be at the table Sophia and the gang had sat in when they’d come in. I could even see Gail in the background.

  My heart was hammering in my chest as my breaths started to come out in short, harsh pants. I stood up quickly, making the chair I’d been sitting in clatter to the ground behind me. I didn’t even waste time to right it. Instead, I grabbed my stuff and hauled ass out of there.

  I made it to the end of the block before I had to lean against the brick wall of some apartment building. I forced breaths in and out.

  This wasn’t the first panic attack I’d had over the past year, but it felt like the worst. Doubling over, I tried to focus on my breathing. Deep breath in. Hold. Let it out slowly.

  I felt my body starting to relax slightly, but then it occurred to me that I wasn’t paying any attention to my surroundings. What if he was watching? What if he was following me back to my apartment? What if he was already at my apartment?

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  I needed to get control, but my brain was spiraling. Without even consciously thinking about it, I tried to focus on my phone, which I’d had in a death grip since leaving the shop. Calling Sophia would be the smart thing to do. She already knew what was going on and would come if I needed her.

  But as if my fingers had a life of their own, they stopped on another name. I pressed Call without contemplating what I was doing.

  “Hey,” Ransom said, his voice soft and welcoming. “I’m glad to hear from you.”

  “I—I need, I can’t…” My brain was whirring so frantically it was difficult to find the words I needed.

  “Taylor,” he said, all softness gone from his voice. “Where are you?”

  I was so thankful he’d asked a direct question with a simple answer, I nearly wept. Though I was pretty sure I was already crying. That or I was sweating profusely. Or I guess both were possible.

  “My apartment.” Not entirely accurate, but I was close. I could be there in under five minutes.

  “I’m on my way. Just sit tight and try to breathe. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  “’Kay,” I managed to force out.

  “Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?”

  God, did I ever. But I also knew he had to drive, and I’d likely freaked him out. I didn’t want him to get into an accident on the way because of me.

  I took a deep breath and tried to sound calm. “No, it’s okay. I’m okay. I… I’ll see you when you get here.”

  “Fifteen minutes, Tay. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

  “’Kay. Good. See you soon.”

  “Absolutely.”

  I disconnected the call because I knew he wouldn’t. It was okay. Ransom was coming. Forcing myself to stand up straight, I then squared my shoulders as if I was heading into battle.

  I was strong. I could handle this. It would all be all right.

  I forced one foot in front of the other and made it to my building soon after. I briefly contemplated waiting for Ransom outside, but I felt too vulnerable out there. Instead, I put in the code to disengage the front door and headed inside. Thankfully, I didn’t encounter anyone on my way to my apartment. Once I keyed myself inside, I closed and locked the door, then leaned back against it before sliding to the floor.

  Resting my forearms on my knees, I dropped my head so that I was coiled in a ball. God, I really wanted to be over this. Brad had never actually hurt me. I wasn’t sure why I reacted this viscerally to his presence in town. What was the worst that could happen?

  And that was when my whole body shuddered. Because even though he’d never hurt me, there was something menacing in his demeanor. Something that warned me that he could do something. That his behavior had been slowly escalating before I left for summer break, and there was no telling what he was capable of.

  And for those reasons, I needed to cut myself some slack. I was my own worst enemy at the best of times, and this situation had left my brain making me turn myself into a punching bag—beating myself up over the what-ifs… What if I’d never gone out with him? What if I hadn’t overlooked the possessive behavior he’d exhibited from the beginning? What if I hadn’t stayed with him for three months before breaking it off? That was a fact I still hadn’t been honest with Sophia about. What if I’d faced the demon instead of running? It wasn’t helping me. I couldn’t change what had happened.

  The question was, where did I go from here?

  My intercom buzzing kept me from finding an answer.

  I leaped up and pushed the button. “Hello?”

  “It’s Ransom.” He sounded slightly out of breath, but still, nothing had ever sounded better.

  “Come on up,” I replied as I hit the button to open the front door of the building.

  I quickly swiped my hands down the front of my jeans and burgundy T-shirt as if that would erase the fact I’d been sitting on my floor for the past five minutes. My hair was probably a horror show, but whatever. I had bigger things to worry about, even though the fact that Ransom would see it did make me want to fix it real quick. My priorities were a total shitshow.

  A heavy knock came on my door, and nothing mattered after that other than getting the damn thing open. Once I flung it back, I slammed into Ransom, throwing my arms around him. I didn’t have it in me to care about how clingy I was being. He was so big and solid and nice, and I needed all those things desperately.

  His arms circled around me, and he pulled me tighter to him. “It’s okay, Tay. I’m here. I got you.” He kept up his litany of soothing words as he gently moved us inside my apartment so we weren’t embracing in the hallway. With the way my face was buried in his broad chest, I heard more than saw him close the door and flip the lock, all while keeping one arm firmly around me.

  He held me for a while before he said, “Do you want to sit down?”

  I nodded against his chest but didn’t move, and neither did he. But after a few more moments, I took a deep breath and pulled away. Making my way to the couch, I tried to regain my composure.

  We both took a seat, instinctively turning toward each other.

  “Can you tell me what happened?” he asked, his voice soft and reassuring.

  I took in his face: the concern evident in the furrow of his brow, the tightness of his lips. But it was his eyes that set me at ease. They were intense and focused. And I knew right then—though I could admit I probably knew it long before now—that this man would move heaven and earth to help me. I just had to open my mouth and ask for it.

  So I did.

  R A N S O M

  Getting a panicked phone call from Taylor was enough to permanently raise my blood pressure. I’d been sitting in class when my phone had rung, but seeing as how Taylor never called me—even before I’d shown up to Sophia’s bachelorette party to strip—I jumped up to take the call in
the hall.

  There’d been no question that I’d leave class to go to her. I’d explain to my professor later. He’d either understand or he wouldn’t. Being here for Taylor was all that mattered.

  I could tell by the way she was wringing her hands that what she had to say was hard on her. But I hoped she found it within herself to confide in me. I wanted her trust as much as she seemed to need someone to trust.

  “I met Brad at a frat party at the beginning of last year,” she began. “He was…handsome. Charismatic. Attentive. And unfortunately, crazy. Though I didn’t know that then.”

  She cleared her throat before continuing. “I told Sophia that we only went on a few dates. I’m not sure why I lied to her about it.” She paused. “That’s not really true. It was because I didn’t want her to know how long I let it go on. That I willingly let this guy infiltrate my life until he’d practically taken it over.

  “He was okay at first. Sweet, thoughtful. But after date three or four, I started to notice that he was getting a little…controlling. Wanting to know where I was going, who I’d be with. When I told him he was suffocating me, he said it was just because he cared so much. And I fell for that for almost four months.”

  Taylor looked down as if ashamed, and I wanted to reach over and lift her chin so she knew she didn’t have to hide from me. But at that moment, I wanted to hunt this Brad fucker down, punch through his sternum, and rip his heart from his body—and I wasn’t sure how well I was concealing that rage. So it was probably for the best if she didn’t look at me for a few seconds.

  “I was so stupid,” she whispered.

  “Hey, none of that,” I said softly. “This is all on him. None of this is your fault.”

  She took a shuddering breath, and when she looked up, her eyes were full of tears. “I never told Sophia about him.”

  “What? But you said she knew?”

  “No, I mean while I was dating him. I never told her because I knew she’d hate him. I just…knew it. So I didn’t tell her. I came to visit her in the fall and everything, but I never breathed a word about him.”

  “That doesn’t make you responsible for his fucked-up actions.”

  “But the writing was on the wall. And I saw it, Ransom. I saw it and ignored it. Even after I got back from seeing her and found him waiting for me outside my apartment, yelling at me that I was thoughtless and inconsiderate because I hadn’t checked in with him enough, I still didn’t stand up to him.”

  She laughed, but it was a humorless, awful sound that I never wanted to hear from her again.

  “I even apologized to him. Said it wouldn’t happen again. It wasn’t until I went home for winter break and got some distance that I got clarity. I broke up with him through text an hour before I was supposed to get on a train to spend New Year’s with him. I didn’t take his calls anymore after that.”

  “I’m guessing he didn’t stop trying, though?” I knew the answer. She wouldn’t be telling me this story after calling me in hysterics if he’d left her alone after that. But I wanted to help her along in this story as best I could—provide the transition between plot events.

  “I refused to see him after that. I wouldn’t answer my door when he came to see me when school started up again, wouldn’t respond to his texts or emails. Nothing. But then he started showing up places I was. He’d come up to me and my friends and strike up a conversation as if everything was fine. But he’d inevitably always try to get me alone, and it was exhausting trying to dodge him.”

  “Didn’t your friends have your back?”

  “They would’ve. If I’d told them the full story. But I was embarrassed. So I said we broke up and that he wanted to get back together but I wasn’t interested. A few of them thought I was being too hard on him, and he used that as a way to get to me. It ended up distancing me from my friends, which in retrospect, was probably exactly what he wanted.

  “Last semester was horrible. I couldn’t wait to pack my shit and get out of there. I drove straight to Sophia and tried to forget all about him. But then the texts started.”

  She told me about the things he’d said, and when she got to the picture he’d sent earlier that day, she broke down again.

  I pulled her close to me, wrapping my arms around her and hoping that she’d know she could lean on me. That I wouldn’t let that fucker hurt her.

  After a while, she pulled away and rubbed her hands over her face. “God, I’m sorry. This is way more than you should have to deal with. I can call Sophia if you want. I just… I was panicked, and my first thought was to call you, but you barely even know me, and this is way, way too much. So it’s okay if—”

  “Taylor,” I interrupted, waiting until she actually made eye contact with me. “Breathe.”

  “Yeah, okay. Breathing is good.”

  I let her regain her composure for a minute before continuing. “I’m glad you called me. I wasn’t sure…with how we left things.”

  “Ransom?”

  “Yeah?” I responded, lifting my head and forcing myself to lock eyes with her.

  “I didn’t tell my family or almost all my closest friends that I’ve had a stalker for the majority of last year. You being a stripper is really pretty tame in comparison.”

  She smiled at me, and I chuckled in return.

  “I still should’ve said something.”

  “Maybe, but…” She shrugged. “You would’ve told me eventually.”

  The surety with which she said it warmed me from the inside out. “Yes. I would’ve.”

  We stared at each other for a moment, and I wondered if she was as lost in me as I was in her. Probably not, especially with everything she had going on. But maybe one day she could get there.

  But even if she didn’t, it didn’t change the fact that I was going to have her back.

  “Okay, show me the text he sent today, and then we can come up with a plan.”

  She handed her phone to me with a small, sweet smile on her lips that I was absolutely not reading into. We were friends, and maybe we could be more one day or maybe we wouldn’t, but I was damn sure going to see to it that we’d always at least be that.

  And no one fucked with my friends.

  Chapter Eighteen

  T A Y L O R

  Over the next hour, I filled Ransom in on everything I knew about Brad. I even showed him Brad’s social media. I slunk back into my couch and let my eyes stray across the room.

  “Shit!” I exclaimed, jolting to sit upright. “We’re late for our shift.”

  Ransom patted my knee like I was a wayward Cocker Spaniel. I was surprised by how much I liked it.

  “I texted Harry a while ago. Told him there was an emergency and we wouldn’t be in for our normal shift, but that I’d come in to work the after-hours program. He said it was no problem. He’ll cover for us.”

  I groaned, both in frustration and relief. “I’ve never just not shown up to work before.” But I also didn’t feel like I was in the right mindset to be around kids.

  “You didn’t. I texted.”

  “At the last minute.”

  “Harry knows we wouldn’t call out if it wasn’t important. He’s a good guy. It’ll be fine.”

  Ransom cleared his throat and shifted, which made me feel like I wasn’t going to like whatever he said next.

  “So, what did your dad say about all of this?”

  Ugh. “Well…he didn’t say anything. Because I never told him.”

  Ransom raised his eyebrows almost to his hairline. He opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him off.

  “I’m thirsty. You want something to drink?” I practically threw myself off the couch and headed for the kitchen.

  “Taylor,” Ransom said from behind me.

  Rounding the corner into my kitchen, I flicked on the light and scurried over to the fridge and looked inside.

  “I have water and Sprite and these V8 juice things. They’re supposed to give you energy.”

  “Taylor,�
� he said again, this time from the entryway to the kitchen.

  “I could also make some coffee,” I said as I closed the fridge and began riffling through a cabinet. “Or tea! I think I have some tea in here somewhere.”

  “Do I look like I drink tea?”

  I side-eyed him. “I wasn’t aware someone had to look a certain way to like tea.”

  “I feel like I have a solid Red Bull look.”

  I wrinkled my face in disgust. “Do you also wear shirts with skulls on them and drive a monster truck?”

  “Wouldn’t a monster truck owner drink Monster?”

  I thought for a second before shaking my head. “Why are we having the dumbest conversation in history?”

  “Because you don’t want to tell me why you haven’t told your dad about Brad.”

  I really didn’t like Brad’s name coming from Ransom. It was like dousing my wholesome superhero in radioactive sludge. I also really didn’t want to explain myself so I said, “You know, I think monster truck drivers would drink Monster.”

  Ransom turned to bonk his head on the wall and muttered something I couldn’t hear.

  “Did I break you?” I asked. I was teasing, but part of me was also genuinely concerned. My drama was a lot to dump on anyone, let alone someone I’d known only a few months.

  He straightened and faced me. “Nah. It would take way more than this to break me.”

  We held gazes for a pregnant moment before I felt the need to look away. A small wave of what I could only describe as panic flared up. Not the horror show kind like Brad inspired, but the oh-my-God-I-want-to-climb-you-like-a-tree-in-my-kitchen-and-that’s-totally-inappropriate kind.

  It was reckless at best to try to get involved with Ransom romantically while I had a whackjob following me around. He deserved more than a basket case who couldn’t stop looking over her shoulder. Dealing with all that might very well break him, and I liked Ransom just the way he was.