Raising Ryann

by Alyssa Rae Taylor

  Once I get my brain working, I try my best to play it cool. Clearing my throat, I say, “Do I know you?” Of course I know him. At least, I’ve already met him. But he doesn’t need to know that I remember who he is. He slides into the seat across from his date, and I can tell he’s clearly amused.

  Without taking his eyes off me, he responds, “Lauren, this is Reese; Reese; this is Lauren. She and I work together at the gym.” Work together? Okay, maybe he’s not taking my job.

  Flashing a wide smile that stretches across her face, she reaches out to shake my hand. “Nice to meet you, Reese. Wow, what a small world.”

  I smile back at her. “Yeah, it is.” I glance at Luke. “I’m sorry, what was your name again? My memory’s not that great,” I say in my most sincere voice.

  “Luke. Luke Ryann.” He reaches out to shake my hand, and I hesitate before finally shaking it.

  “It’s nice to officially meet you, Luke.” Our hands linger a little before I let go when an impatient customer interrupts me, demanding I get him another beer. I hold up my finger in his direction. “I’ll be right there.” I look back at Luke and Lauren. “I better get back to my tables, but I can take your order if you’re ready.”

  “Go ahead and take care of them first if you need to. It’s not a problem,” Lauren says, flicking her eyes in the direction of the four guys at the next table. The guy with the jacked up teeth is holding up his empty beer mug, waving his Packers hat back and forth to get my attention.

  “Don’t worry about it. Everyone kind of came in at once so I’m trying to help my friend out. Robert is actually your server. You guys will love him.” I grab my notepad and pen, pulling the cap off with my teeth.

  “Careful with that pen now.” I look up at Luke, who teasingly gives me a wicked grin. Once again I blush, mortified by the memories of what happened at school.

  “Haha, very funny,” I say, raising an eyebrow. Lauren looks back and forth between us.

  “Am I missing something?” She furrows her brows in confusion. I silently pray Luke doesn’t tell her. Today’s incident gave me enough embarrassment to last a lifetime.

  “It’s nothing,” he says, shaking his head, still grinning. “You had to be there.”

  “Gotcha,” she says, before closing the menu to put it away.

  After Luke and Lauren place their orders I run over to check on the rest of my tables, dropping another Bud Light to the Packers guy at table 101. “What kind of jeans are those?” the guy asks.

  “Excuse me?”

  He makes a circle motion with his finger and says, “Turn around and let me see your pockets.” He grins, and I’m a little grossed out by his abnormally yellow teeth.

  “They’re nothing special,” I say, tilting my head. “I’m sorry, I’m a little confused by what you’re asking me.”

  “Well, let me clarify then. I want to get a good, long look at your ass,” he slurs as his hooded eyes begin to undress me.

  My blood boils at the way his stare is making me feel, and I have a hard time keeping my composure. I mentally prepare to lean in close and make my point clear. “That was your one chance,” I say, narrowing my eyes, looking straight into his.

  I turn around and walk away, hearing one of his friends ask, “What’d she say?”

  Then another male voice says, “Dude, I think I know her from somewhere.”

  “Would you rather the raven-haired guy with the black button down shirt at table 101, or the guy sitting with the girl at 117?” Robert asks as I watch him ring up an order on the computer. I glance at table 101, which is my high-top filled with the belligerents. The guy with the button down shirt is the most attractive in the group, but there’s no comparison to the handsome man at 117, who just so happens to be Luke.

  “Who would you pick?” I ask him.

  “You first.”

  “No, you first.”

  “There’s no question,” he grins. “Definitely the GQ at 117.” Without being obvious, I glance over at Luke while he intently listens to Lauren engage him in conversation. They’re not holding hands, and their body language wouldn’t tell you whether they’re romantically involved. Before I tell Robert I agree, the Packers guy shouts for me.

  “Hey pretty little thing, I need another beer!” He has that look on his face people get when they’re really drunk and their eyes can’t focus. I turn to Robert and mumble through my teeth.

  “That guy seriously has a death wish.” I try to avoid eye contact with the creep and look at his friends as I walk back to their table.

  “Do you need me to call a cab?” I ask, focusing my attention on everyone but the Packers guy.

  His friend sitting to the left with the button down shirt says, “I’m drivin’.” Placing one hand on his stomach and stretching out his other arm, a lazy grin appears on his face. The other two men are engaged in a conversation about hos and clubbin’. I glance at his drink, remembering he switched to water about an hour ago.

  “And you’re okay to drive?” I ask, placing my hands on my hips.

  His grin widens, and he nods his head before saying, “Hey, you work at the gym, right?”

  Someone nudges me in the shoulder just as I’m about to answer, and Robert whispers in my ear, “You have a new table. I already took his drink order.” I’ve been so distracted by these jerks that I didn’t even notice the man at the small booth behind me.

  “Thanks babe,” I say, following him to the back of the bar.

  “No problem. Just so you know, I’m cut. His eyes flick over to my obnoxious table. “You going to be okay?”

  As if his ears were ringing, the Packers guy yells, “Where’s my beer?”

  I roll my eyes and chuckle, looking at Robert. “Seriously, I’ve been gone for five seconds! If I get arrested for assault tonight, will you bail me out?”

  He laughs. “Not only would I bail you out, I will pay you to rough up Packers fan over there. He’s just nasty.”

  “Trust me. I’m about to.”

  I head over to the booth, placing a napkin and silverware on the table before my eyes meet a familiar face, and my heart comes to a complete stop. My father sits before me, looking very much like I remember. The look on his face is pained, and his green eyes look directly into mine. This cannot be happening. Can this night get any worse? He slowly stands up, reaching his arms out to embrace me, but I stay frozen with my arms at my sides while he holds me. I look around the room, confused about why he’s here and rest my eyes on Luke as he stares back at me in what seems to be … understanding. Please God let this be a dream. Seconds later, my father speaks.

  “Reese,” is all he says.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, gritting my teeth. He closes his eyes, running a hand through his dark hair.

  “You won’t answer my letters; you haven’t returned any of my calls.”

  “So you show up at my place of work?” I hiss. He fidgets with the knife and fork lying on top of the tiled table.

  “I know you’re upset, and I’m sorry, but I don’t know how else to reach you.” He glances at the occupied tables around us before looking back at me. “Have you read any of my letters?”

  “No,” I growl. “I don’t want you in my life. Things have been going just fine without you, and I don’t need you coming back around to screw it up.”

  “Your mom has forgiven me. I’m a changed man, Reese.”

  “That says a lot. Mom forgives everyone; she’s no example,” I spit. He nods his head in agreement, keeping his eyes aimed on the floor.

  “That may be true … she’s a sick woman, Reese, and I was a sick man when I hurt both of you. I’m not that man anymore. I quit drinking. I go to church.” He stares down at his hands that are resting on the table. “I just want to be a father to you. The father that I never was, the father I need to be.” He lifts his head, his eyes pleading with me. I hold back tears as we stare at each other, not wanting to give in to the lies. He pulls out his wallet and drops a hundred doll
ar bill on the table, along with a business card. “I’ll leave now since you don’t want me here.”

  “I don’t want your money,” I say quietly, but he ignores me and stands up before speaking again. He glances over my shoulder toward Luke and gives a slight nod. He must have seen him watching us. I hate that this is happening in public, in front of all these people. It was a stupid thing for him to do.

  “Is everything okay?” Bill, my manager walks up and asks. I consider having my father thrown out, not that Bill would do it, but the thought did cross my mind.

  “We’re fine,” my father says. “I’m her father.”

  “He was just leaving,” I interrupt.

  My manager reaches out his hand. “Bill.” He smiles. “I’m her manager. Nice to meet you.” I watch my father shake his hand, desperately wanting him to leave.

  “Well, I won’t keep you, since you have somewhere you need to be,” Bill says. I speak before my father can get a word in.

  “Thanks Bill. He was supposed to leave twenty minutes ago.” My father keeps his face blank and thankfully doesn’t argue.

  After Bill walks away, leaving me with my father, it feels as though we are the only ones left in the room. “I’ll keep writing,” he hesitates, “I know I don’t deserve it, but I hope that one day you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me.” I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to respond. So all I do is watch him until he turns around and walks out the door.

  I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to keep the tears at bay before heading toward the back of the bar to start on my side work.

  “You okay?” Luke asks softly.

  I turn in his direction and find him sitting alone. He is chewing on a straw like a bad habit and tapping his foot nervously. I don’t know if Lauren left or if she fell into some trouble in the bathroom, and aside from them, the guys at table 101 are the only people left in the bar.

  Finally I say, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  “Reese, that’s your name, right?” The Packers guy slurs, waving his hand again to get my attention. He’s probably going to ask for another beer. I quietly curse him and hesitantly walk to their table.

  “That’s my name,” I say with a fake smile, sticking my hands in the pockets of my apron.

  “You don’t like me much. Do you Reese?” He smiles, and it’s definitely a smile that makes me feel dirty.

  “Do you want the truth?” I ask, irritated.

  “That’s okay, I like a challenge. You don’t have to like me,” he says slowly. “Are you busy?” His friends chuckle as they watch his eyes roam over my entire body.

  “I’m just closing up my tables.” I raise my arm to look at my watch. “We close at eleven. Oh wow, I guess we’re already past that.”

  “What time do you get off?” He glances sideways at his friends, and they all continue to laugh as if they have some inside joke. I take a quick peek in Luke’s direction and notice the mangled straw that he’s destroyed with his teeth. His eyes are staring daggers straight into Packers guy’s head.

  “If I knew what time I was getting off, I definitely wouldn’t be telling you,” I say, losing my patience.

  “Why don’t you go find out real quick,” he slurs, then reaches out and runs his fingers down my arm. That’s when I snap.

  “Get your hands off her,” Luke says flatly. His voice startles me, since he’s unexpectedly standing right beside me.

  “Who are you?” the drunk guy growls, his friends are all wide-eyed and freaked out.

  “Sorry man, we didn’t know,” the guy with the button down shirt says to Luke.

  “Didn’t know what?” I ask, clearly annoyed that Luke didn’t let me fight my own battle.

  “You’re Luke Ryann,” one of the other guys says. “We didn’t want to bother you earlier, but we recognized you when you were sitting over there with your girl.” I’m confused as to why these guys are looking at him as though he’s a legend, and for some reason, it pisses me off.

  Luke doesn’t even smile. He doesn’t even acknowledge anything they’ve said. He just stands there with his fists clenched, staring at them in a way that should make them want to run for the hills. Finally he opens his mouth, “You owe her an apology, and then you need to leave.”

  I place my hand on his arm, but he doesn’t break the stare he has on the pervert. “Seriously, Luke. Thank you, but I got this.”

  The Packers guy begins to speak when his friends get up, trying to silence him as they quickly pull him toward the exit.

  “Hey Reese,” the guy yells.

  “Shut up dude,” they tell him, pulling him harder. “You’re gonna get your ass kicked.”

  They’re frantically shoving him out the door when I hear him slur, “You said she works at your gym, right?” The door slams shut, and I sigh in relief that they are finally gone. I turn to face Luke.

  “I don’t trust those guys.” He presses his lips in a tight line and furrows his brow like he’s deep in thought. “What time do you get off?”

  “Not until I’m checked out with my manager. Why?” He runs a hand through his hair, leaving a thick chunk of it sticking up. He has the I just got out of bed look, which he happens to wear very well.

  “I told Lauren to go home. I’ll wait for you to finish then follow you to your place.”

  “Excuse me?” I ask, surprised, not rudely … just surprised.

  “Where do you live?”

  “Down the street—Citrus Grove Apartments. You don’t need to follow me.”

  “I said I’m following you home. I don’t trust those punks,” he says flatly.

  “Trust me. I’ll be fine.”

  He snorts. “You didn’t hear what was said when you walked into the kitchen.”

  I place my hands on my hips. “Look, I’m flattered that you barely know me, and you’re already concerned with my safety. It’s sweet … but have you forgotten that I am a self-defense instructor?” I bat my eyelashes and give him a teasing smile. His piercing brown eyes go from concern to amusement.

  “No offense, princess, but your self-defense skills won’t protect you from being gang-raped by a bunch of drunk guys.” He waves me off, as if my previous comment was a joke. That’s when I get offended. He didn’t even allow me to defend myself earlier, and now I know it’s because he thinks I’m weak, which makes me want to choke him. Literally.

  “How kind of you to devalue something that I have put my heart and soul into for half of my life.” I point my finger at him. “You don’t even know me.” He rolls his eyes and sighs in frustration.

  “That isn’t what I meant … what you do is great. But be rational. No matter how much training you’ve had, it’s unrealistic to believe you would be able to get away from four guys.” His voice is gentle and his eyes almost pleading. “Hell, I’m a former MMA fighter, have won several titles, and even I probably couldn’t come out ahead if they attacked me.” I bite my lip as I think about what he said, coming to the conclusion that he’s probably right.

  “Is that why those guys freaked out? Because they know who you are?”

  “Probably. What does that matter?”

  “Do you use that face on all the girls?” I ask him. Because the look on his face is part of the reason I’m giving in.

  “What?” he asks, genuinely confused.

  “Forget it. Okay, you can follow me home.” In a way, I’m a little relieved, but there’s no way I’d admit that to him.

  After checking out with my manager, I see Luke standing in the parking lot next to a shiny black Harley. He’s holding a helmet under his arm with a look on his face that spells TROUBLE in giant capital letters. Honestly, the guy is so attractive it’s beginning to hurt my eyes. I force myself to look away before I climb in my car and roll down the window. “Do you know where Citrus Grove Apartments are?” He nods his head then slips on his helmet.

  It only takes a few minutes to get to my apartment complex, and I pull into my regular spot. I glance over toward Luke and s
ee him parking his Harley nearby. What on Earth is he doing? “I can take it from here,” I tell him.

  “No you don’t. I’m walking you to your door,” he says, following closely behind me. We walk the rest of the way in silence until I turn around to thank him.

  “Thanks for taking time out of your night to follow me home.” My breathing is weird, my hands are shaky, and I’m terrified he’ll hear my pounding heartbeat.

  “Anytime,” he says. I turn around, fumbling through my purse for my keys when he places a hand on my shoulder. “Reese.”

  I turn and look at him, waiting, as his eyes gently scan my face with concern. He has the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen. They are light brown with swirling flecks of amber and gold. His lips are full, and I notice a small scar below his lower lip where he might have had a piercing. His voice comes out softly when he speaks.

  “I want you to call me if you run into trouble. Give me your number, and I’ll text you.”

  “Okay,” I say, my voice cracking when I answer, and I watch as he saves my number to his phone. Tucking my hair behind my ear, I clear my throat. “Listen, I’m a little confused as to why you’re so concerned with my safety? I’m a big girl. I’ve been living on my own for a while.” I place my hand on his shoulder just as he did to me, and notice him looking at the scar above my eye. One of the scars my father gave me.

  He smirks. “I worry about you kid.”

  “Why? You don’t even know me?”

  The corner of his mouth tilts up. “Whatever you say princess.” I don’t respond and watch him turn around and head back in the direction of parking lot.

  “Bye,” I shout, confused by his strange behavior.

  “See you tomorrow, Reese!” He yells without looking back.

  I lie in bed thinking of my father. After spending time in prison for the assault on my mother, it took years before we heard from him. In fact, he didn’t start writing the letters until two years ago. The first time my mother told me about the letters, I asked her to burn them. She said she had forgiven him, but I hadn’t … and still don’t.