Raising Ryann

by Alyssa Rae Taylor

  I think my father blamed us for the reason he lost his job. He was a good cop, but a lousy husband and father. He wouldn’t accept responsibility for what he did, so he left us. We never got a phone call from prison, and he never contacted us when he was released—two years ago—when it all changed. He called my mother and apologized. He tried to apologize to me, but I refused to speak to him. That’s when the letters started coming, nearly everyday. I told my mom I wanted nothing to do with him. But tonight, when I looked into his eyes, they were sad, almost remorseful. I wasn’t ready to hear what he had to say, but I could see it on his face. He was sorry.

  Closing my eyes, I begin to drift off to sleep when the chirp of my cell phone startles me. I pick it up and see a text from a number I don’t recognize. It says, “Good night princess.”

  I smile and force myself not to text him back as I close my eyes and whisper, “Good night, Luke.”

  The hair stands up on the back of my neck, and chills run all over my body when I hear the pleading sounds that I know are coming from my mother. I rest an ear against my bedroom door, nervously waiting for silence. As I creep my way out of the room then down the dark and narrow hall, I slowly peek my head around the corner. My father is lying on the living room floor, and my mother is squirming underneath him. When I’m close enough to see the fearful expression on her face, I have no doubt that she is in danger. His left hand is pressed against her mouth, and his right hand is tightly wrapped around her throat. Terrified for my mother’s life, I stumble back to my room and stare out my window, desperately waiting for the teenage boy.

  I feel intense rage pour out of me as I take out my aggression on the heavy bag. Between the visit from my father, and the nightmares of my past, I’ve had just about as much as I can handle. Stepping back, I gaze at my reflection, noticing the effects from my recent lack of sleep. I pull off the gloves and wipe the sweat from my eyes, jolting to a stop as I tread toward the locker room.

  On the other side of the wall, I hear two men engaged in conversation. It doesn’t take long for me to recognize the voices belong to Luke and Kyle. Normally I wouldn’t snoop like this, but I’m convinced I just heard them say my name. So I crouch behind the wall like the awesome person that I am and try to listen.

  “Why? You got a thing for her?” There’s a smile in Kyle’s tone.

  Luke’s reply is clipped when he grumbles, “No man. I don’t.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “It’s okay, man, I’m not going to say anything.”

  Luke chuckles, but it sounds a little forced. “No Really. Last night there were some guys giving her a hard time. I didn’t see her car. I got worried.” That’s because I walked.

  “Uh huh, well, just so you know...” I press my ear against the wall when Kyle gets quieter.

  “She’s a man-hater.” He chuckles softly. “The woman’s got Daddy issues.”

  What? Who in the hell told him that? I frown.

  “Yeah, well maybe she has her reasons.” Damn straight I do.

  “I guess.”

  “And just so we’re clear, I don’t look at her like that … she’s not my type.”

  That earns a roar out of Kyle, “Yeah dude. She’s not my type either.”

  “You know what I mean,” Luke stutters. “She’s just a kid. Come on. What kind of guy do you take me for?”

  I can’t take another word out of his mouth. In fact, I’m speechless. Actually, I’m a lot of things. A kid? Not his type? Who does he think he is?

  I stand up tall and pat down my hair before gliding past the desk, heading straight to the locker room. They instantly stop talking so I turn my head nonchalantly, show them my fakest smile, and say, “Hi guys.”

  Kyle quickly clears his throat as Luke strides over and pulls me aside. “What?” I ask sheepishly, forcing myself to look at him. Damn him! How can someone look so good in a flipping wife beater and plain old track pants?

  “Why didn’t you text me back?” he asks. His scent intoxicates me. I almost forget that I’m pissed and deeply offended.

  “I was asleep by the time you sent it,” I lie. I don’t want to tell him that it took all my willpower not to text him back.

  He glances toward the parking lot then drops his gaze on me. “Where’s your car?”

  “I live right down the street. Remember?” Shrugging, I add, “I walked.”

  “In this heat?” He grins. “Are you crazy?”

  “It’s good exercise.” Now stop looking at me that way because I’m supposed to be angry with you.

  “Okay.” He slowly nods his head. “I can respect that.”

  “Good.” I smile, pointing toward the locker room. “Are we done? I need to clean up.”

  “Uh, sure.” His eyebrows scrunch together. “Knock yourself out, kid.”

  “Thanks,” I spit. Really? Did he really just say that? I burst into the locker room, quickly rushing through my shower, hoping I’ll have enough time to call Gia. My pride has been ripped into shreds, and I need some encouragement, but the locker room’s filling up fast and I’d like a little privacy. After changing into my clothes I grab my phone and walk over to the break room, relieved when I find it empty, so I hurry up and call.

  “Hello,” she answers on the first ring.

  “Thank God, you answered. You have no idea what I’ve been through.” I run her through the events of the night before, thankful I have another woman to talk to. I tell her about my father, Luke and Lauren, and the creepy guys at table 101. I tell her about Luke following me home, my lack of sleep, and psychotic beating on the punching bag. When I’m finally done she stays silent for what seems like an eternity.

  “Hello,” I say, hoping I didn’t lose her.

  “Hahahahaha.”

  I pull the phone away from my ear. “What’s so funny? This is serious!” I can’t believe she’s actually laughing right now.

  “I’m sorry, it’s just that, I’ve never heard you so freaked out over a guy.” She’s laughing so hard I can barely understand her. “I’m kind of in shock,” she continues.

  “Did you hear anything else that I said? C’mon Gia, my kids are going to be here any minute. I’m stressing out!”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry. I heard you.” She tries to contain herself, taking on a more serious tone. “Those guys sound pretty scary, and they know you work at the gym? Like which gym?”

  “The guy said he recognized me from the gym.”

  “Just be careful. Make sure you have someone walk you to your car when you leave.”

  I decide not to mention that I walked today. “Okay.”

  “I’m sorry I laughed at you earlier,” she says gently.

  “I’ll get over it. You always find something to laugh at me about.”

  “What can I say? You’re funny. Anyway, tell me what happened with your father. How do you feel about it?”

  I think of his pained expression. “To be honest, I don’t know. He looked … sorry. Regretful even.”

  “That’s good, Reese. He should be sorry. Who knows, maybe when you’re ready, you can talk?”

  I had a feeling she would say that, but I’m not ready to talk. “I don’t think so.” I say, watching a fly land on the wall before I lift up my foot and try to smash it.

  “Give it some time. You might change your mind?”

  “Yeah maybe.” I bite my lip in thought. “But, I doubt it.”

  “So Luke followed you home, huh?” she asks, changing the subject.

  “Yep.” I hesitate. “And I haven’t even told you the rest of the story.”

  “Really,” she coos. “Do tell.”

  So I run her through this morning’s events, and the conversation I overheard between Luke and Kyle. “How old do you think he is?” I ask her.

  “Anywhere between twenty-five and thirty would be my guess.”

  “Yeah, mine too. What’s his deal, saying I’m just a kid?”

  “I don’t know. It’s weird.”

 
; “I wonder if it’s why he’s so protective? He thinks I’m a child.”

  She chuckles. “So tell him how old you are.”

  I bite my nails, mumbling, “How am I supposed to do that? Hey Luke, guess how old I am?”

  “I don’t know, figure it out.”

  “You’re a big help.” I glance at the clock. “I gotta go; my students are probably waiting.”

  “Okay, just keep me posted, and good luck!”

  I spin around and squeal at finding Luke standing right behind me. His sparkling eyes and prominent dimples are all the confirmation I need to know that he heard. This CANNOT be happening!

  “I’m sorry,” he says, beaming. “Am I interrupting something?” He leans against the wall confidently, with his muscled arms folded at his chest.

  “I … I …” For some reason my mouth momentarily stops working.

  His eyes light up in amusement. “You were saying?”

  Heat burns in my cheeks, running all the way down my neck. I want to disappear and never come back. I can’t muster a word with my mouth hanging open. It’s that stupid deer in the headlights look I always seem to have whenever I’m around him. The man gets under my skin, and I don’t like him, and now that my embarrassment is turning to anger, I’m going to tell him so.

  “Get over yourself! I wasn’t spying on you,” I hiss. “I was headed to the locker room and heard my name. I didn’t hear much except for the fact that you said …” Ticking off on my fingers, “I’m not your type, and oh yeah, I’m just a kid. Whatever that means?” I look at him like that statement’s ridiculous, stepping close enough to poke him in the chest. “Who do you think you are?” He cocks a brow, and I keep going. “You don’t know me. You walk in here thinking you’re God’s gift to all and expect me to bow at your feet and do whatever you say.”

  He smiles, actually smiles at me, which makes me angrier. “I have news for you, buddy!” I poke him harder. “I’m not one of those women. I’m not going to do what you say, and I don’t need you to do me any favors. I am twenty years old. I’m not a child, and I don’t appreciate being treated like one.” A look of surprise flashes in his eyes as he stops the finger that’s poking him to hold it. He smells divine, and he looks like he just walked off an Armani poster. Damn, I hate him for it.

  He presses his lips together tightly. “I thought you were younger.”

  “Who cares? Does that make you better than me?”

  “No, not at all,” he says, flustered. “You were just so small that I thought—” I hold up my hand to cut him off. I don’t want to hear his excuses about why he isn’t into me.

  “Really?” I snort. “That’s your excuse? That I’m small? I’m five foot four.”

  Now he’s giving me attitude. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Oh?” I tilt my head to the side. “Then tell me, Luke, what did you mean?”

  He stutters, still holding my finger, but doesn’t give me an answer. This time it’s my turn to arch a brow.

  “You know what, don’t worry about it. You know why?”

  I lean in close so that our lips almost touch, ignoring the crackle I feel between us. Slowly, I stand on the tips of my toes, and lifting my lashes to meet his gaze, I whisper, “You’re not my type.” I swear I caught him blushing before I turned around and walked right out of the break room.

  I try to keep my breathing even as I greet my students with a smile. Thank God I kept my cool in front of Luke, because whatever that was in there now has me trembling.

  “Guy problems?” Ally asks, her puppy dog eyes twinkling.

  I place my hands on my hips and nearly whisper, “What makes you say that?”

  “I can tell by the look on your face. It’s the same look my mom has when she and my dad are arguing.”

  “I see.” I pat her on the head and say, “Don’t tell anyone, okay?”

  “No worries. Your secret’s safe with me.”

  “And don’t you worry about me either. I’ll be just fine.” I wink.

  She tilts her head, examining my face for deception. “Okay.”

  I point my finger at her. “I’m serious.”

  “I said okay.” She smiles, and I smile back.

  I’ve never been good at hiding my emotions. It’s another trait I inherited from my father. “Today we’ll continue to work on the power of the elbow,” I say to my students. They all sit and listen contently. “Taylor, Maddy, come here. I want to do a demonstration and use you two as my examples.” I look at Ally. “I’m a little terrified to use Ally again; anyway, I’m convinced she already has this down.” I roll my eyes, and the girls laugh around me.

  “Taylor, you’re going to be the bad guy and grab Maddy from behind.” I stand behind Maddy and wrap my arms around her, showing Taylor what she needs to do. “Maddy, I need you to pretend like you have no clue you’re about to be attacked. Act oblivious.” The girls giggle as they slip on the armor and get into their positions. I look to Taylor and Maddy. “While I am speaking to the class, I want you to demonstrate the moves as I say them. Got it?”

  “Got it,” the girls say back.

  “Great.” I lower my voice as if I’m telling a story. “Imagine you are caught off guard, and someone grabs you from behind. What do you do?”

  “You scream ‘No!’” Ally answers.

  “That’s right,” I say. “Then what?”

  “You use your elbows, knees, and head to hurt the attacker.”

  “That’s good, Rylee. Other than hurting your attacker, what are you trying to accomplish?” I ask.

  “To get far away from them!” shouts Ally.

  “Good girl. Now let’s say your attacker is behind you, and you feel like his or her face is close enough for you to hurt them. Where do you hurt them, and what do you use? Show us Maddy.”

  Maddy jabs Taylor right in the nose, and it’s a good thing she’s wearing a mask. “Good job, Maddy,” I say, as the rest of the class claps. Taylor shakes her head as if the blow made her dizzy.

  “You okay?”

  “I’m good,” she says.

  “Where’s another place you can hit the attacker, using your elbow?” I ask.

  “The neck,” Rylee answers. I nod and point to Taylor while she holds her hand up.

  “The eyes.”

  “Uh huh, and what’s another place, Ally?” I ask, pointing to her.

  “The ears.”

  “That’s right. Good job girls.” I clap. “You’re all doing great! I’m so proud of you!” I really am. They’ve come a long way. We play along like this for a while, using several different positions until the class ends, and I head back to the locker room.

  “Reese,” Kyle calls me over.

  “What’s up?”

  “Pam called, and I told her you were busy with your class.”

  I bite my lip. “Did she need anything?”

  “She said she wanted to talk to you about arrangements she made with Luke—about you two working together.”

  “What do you mean arrangements?” I glance behind the desk to see what he’s so consumed with. He’s playing some silly game on his phone.

  “She didn’t say,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. “She just told me to have you ask Luke.” He punches a few buttons, and I stare in disbelief.

  “Are you kidding me?”

  He shakes his head. “Nope.” I want to throw his phone into the trashcan. Instead I just grab it, finally getting his full attention.

  “Kyle, are you sure she didn’t say anything else? Like what Luke and I are supposed to be working on?”

  He narrows his eyes and reaches for his phone. “I’m sure. She said she might not have time to call back and to have you ask Luke.”

  “Right. Because they’re so tight now,” I growl, not waiting for him to answer back.

  I make my way over to the weight machines to blow off steam. Glancing in the mirror, I see Luke working on the heavy bag. He’s swinging right, left, right, left, in slow controll
ed movements. He’s focused, like a natural, ready and determined to fulfill his task. I can understand why he’s won so many titles. There’s something dangerous about the look in his eyes. He’s like a predator circling his prey, planning the precise moment of attack. As I stand there and watch him, I’m put in a trance, calculating each and every move, as he captivates me. I can’t tear my eyes away, and before I know it, I’m stepping closer—until I lose my train of thought when he catches me.

  In a flash, I remove my eyes from his body, praying he didn’t notice me ogling him. What in the world was I thinking? I clench my fists at my sides as I speed walk toward the locker room.

  “Reese, hold up!” Luke shouts. I walk faster. I don’t want to see his face, especially after our talk. So I pretend I don’t hear him, keeping my head trained to the floor. With that, he leaves me alone, and I’m thankful.

  “I’m leaving, Kyle,” I say over my shoulder, before I step into the locker room to grab my stuff.

  “Later.”

  It’s late, and eerily quiet out here. I’m regretting not bringing my car. What Gia said is right. I need to think about my safety. But my apartment is less than a mile away, and it’s not like I haven’t done this before. The past couple weeks have been crazy, and I’ve been eating nothing but a bunch of crap; I figure it won’t hurt to exercise.

  The night air is warm, but I welcome the small breeze striding forward. There’s about a month or two left of this hot Phoenix weather, and I can’t wait for the change in late fall.

  I hear the faint patter of footsteps following behind me. With the Packers guy’s words fresh in my mind, I picture the creepy look in his eyes as his fingers touched my skin, and how his friends enjoyed the way he made me squirm. The sound becomes louder, alerting me to pick up my pace. Whoever’s behind me is gaining ground, as if they’re coming after me. Well let them come, because I’m ready and trained to kick some serious ass!

  I turn around and shout, “No,” just as I aim my knee at his groin. He jumps out of the way, blocking me with his hands. So I go for the eyes, but that doesn’t work either. When he just stands there, as if I’m not a challenge, not even trying to restrain me, my temper explodes. I swing wildly, using everything I know to take him down. There’s only one of them. This shouldn’t be so difficult. I use my fists, elbows, and knees, yet nothing seems to faze him. Then he wraps his arms around me, and holds me still, attempting to calm me with his words.