Phoebe: Book One of Broken Girls Series

by J. A. Hornbuckle

  “Sucks, man,” Cruz shot back. “Would offer you my phone in order to call your girl, but like I told you before, I promised to keep my nose outta your love life.”

  Ryker fucking hated how Cruz kept throwing his own words back at him and had done since the moment they’d raced to pick-up their mother before hitting the road to New Mexico.

  The first two days in Chimayo were a blur. Luckily, they got to the hospital in time to see tio Umberto and pay their respects before he passed, although their ma sobbed through every visit.

  It was Max who took their mother in hand although all three of them kept a close, protective watch on her. She was pretty broken up, but Ryker somehow suspected the passing of her eldest brother wasn’t entirely to blame for her behavior. He’d watched her as she wound through the different relatives during the showing, the funeral and the crazy-assed wake, smiling a fake smile, giving out incomplete hugs as her eyes constantly roamed and assessed those around her. And how she studiously and very carefully avoided any and all contact with Angelina and Maricella, her two favorite sisters. And it bothered him because before he’d been arrested, the three had always been close.

  That wasn’t to say their time in New Mexico was all bad. It was wild whenever the Santiago clan got together. With all the food, activities and being with people he hadn’t seen in a decade, the week flew by.

  Outside of watching over his madre, the only problem had been in his inability to contact Phoebe. He hadn’t even found a payphone in order to call her just to touch base. When had that happened? Back in the day, there was a payphone practically on every corner, but to try and find one now was a journey in frustration.

  He raised his phone again and studied the screen. One bar. Only one bar but it took some of the edge off, providing a glimmer of hope he’d soon be within range to send her a brief text and arrange a time to see her.

  A long half-hour later and he had three bars. Hissing a long heartfelt “Yes…”, he began typing out a text with shaking fingers.

  Arrivg town in 2 plus hrs. Need to get Ma settled 1st. Dinner 2nite?

  Hitting ‘send’ and seeing the screen’s meter flash as the message went through had never felt so good. But it took a good fifteen minutes before the familiar ding of her reply resounded in the quiet of the SUV.

  Y?

  Ryker frowned at the screen and her one-letter response.

  Cuz I wanna C U!

  Another fifteen minutes passed, fifteen long minutes without a response from her. So he tried again.

  What time do U get off work? We can go out or I bring food to U.

  That message gained her attention because he got an immediate text back.

  DTS. Kinda tired.

  After reading, then re-reading her response Ryker finally gave up trying to understand what she’d typed and turned to Cruz. “What does DTS mean in text-speak?”

  “’Don’t think so’,” came the smooth reply. “What? Is your girl blowing you off after only being gone a week?”

  Ryker’s chest tightened at Cruz’s question. Was that it? Phoebe didn’t want to see him?

  Oh hell to the no.

  If she wanted to cut their relationship short, then she could damn well tell him to his fucking face!

  C U @ ur place @ 9.30 w/Chinese.

  Unwilling to continue the conversation, Ryker firmly closed the lid of his phone and sank back into the seat. Turning his face back to the window, he let his thoughts churn as he tried to determine what the fuck was going on with his girl.

  *.*.*.*.*

  Usually my apartment was my sanctuary and a place to relax and enjoy my downtime. When Ryker and I began dating, it became even more so. Not that my space was all that. But with the house warming gifts from my girls and by purchasing new-to-me pieces from thrift stores and yard sales, it was a mish-mash of old and new I’d put together in a way I called ‘cozy chic’.

  That night, though, as I waited for Ryker to arrive, it was neither cozy nor a sanctuary.

  My vibe for the evening was set to pissed and hurt, as evidenced by the way I stomped through each room in order to set the table. And with every step I took I built a list of rules to abide by when Ryker finally showed.

  Number one; there would be absolutely no displays of affection. I didn’t want to be distracted by him so it was better to keep him at a distance. Lord knew, when it came to him, the feel of him in my arms, I had no resistance. Case in point? That after a full week of no contact I’d instantly caved when he asked to see me again.

  I never thought of myself as a girl who could be a man’s yo-yo, but I guess I was. Because a few lines of text and I was slapping placemats down on my kitchen table to share a meal with a man who had ignored me for an entire week.

  Actually I felt justified in my anger. What sort of guy woos a girl at just the right speed, using just the right words, and the most perfect of touches then abruptly leaves her hanging for a week?

  Number two on my list, to get a full explanation for his whereabouts over the last seven days. Perhaps it was wrong to expect him to give me a blow-by-blow of what was going on in his life, but I’d been worried dammit. For all I knew he was dead or in the process of dying. But the first line of his text message earlier that day made it seem like he had gone away on vacation with his mom. And the expectation seem to be I was supposed to be the good girlfriend, not say anything and we’d just pick up where we left off.

  I didn’t get it though, because even in my wildest moments, I would never just up and leave without telling him beforehand. Obviously he had none of those rules when it came to me.

  Number three, I needed to get an explanation of exactly where our relationship was headed. A conversation that was long overdue in my opinion. Not that I thought it needed defining, but in light of the hurt and anger roiling inside at being shut out of his life for so long, I needed clarification. And to work through some expectations on both sides if we were going to move forward.

  However I knew I could avoid number three if he would just be honest and tell me he didn’t want to see me again. Although those words would hurt, they couldn’t hurt any worse than the pain of the last seven days, that was for damn sure.

  Slamming down plates and silverware before reaching for glasses, I glanced at the clock. If I was gonna get dumped, I was gonna do it looking my best. And on that note, I hurried to the bedroom to change, because no matter what happened I was going to look good if for no other reason than to shore up my pride.

  I was just putting the finishing touches on my makeup when I heard a soft knock at the door. He was early, but I wasn’t sure if that heralded good tidings or bad. Just that the sound of his knuckles on my door made my heart boom in my chest and turned my knees to water.

  “You can do this,” I whispered to my reflection.

  Liar, liar, pants on fire, my brain chanted, destroying the small amount of courage I’d gathered around me.

  *.*.*.*.*

  Ryker heard three locks moving and the chain drop on the other side of the door before the beautiful vision of Phoebe came into view. And at the sight, he caught his breath. Perhaps it was because he hadn’t seen her in a week, but to his mind even dressed in nothing more than well-worn jeans and some kind of lacy lavender sweater, she’d never looked lovelier.

  He’d meant to offer greeting that was both suave and sweet, but when he opened his mouth to speak all he could utter was, “Damn, baby”. And before he could regroup in order to offer up something to cover his gaff, she swung the door wide and motioned him in. The fact that she didn’t greet him with a look, a hug or even a kiss on the cheek confused him. And as he made his way to the coffee table in order to drop off the bags clearly marked with the Red Dragon logo, he was very aware of how she kept her distance, only relocking the door after he was close to the couch.

  “I wasn’t sure what you wanted. I know you like your noodles so I got them. Also some Kung Pao chicken, beef with broccoli and a couple of eggrolls. Is that okay?” Wa
s that him blathering on about their dinner? Because that’s not what he wanted to talk about, not even close to what he wanted to say.

  She barely even glanced at him as she murmured, “That’s fine. But I thought tonight we’d eat at the dining room table. If that’s okay with you.”

  Ryker’s eyes went from the coffee table ladened with the two bags, to the already set table tucked into the far corner of the living room. The whole time they had dated, and the many meals they had shared while in the comfort of her home, not once had they used the dining room table. Preferring instead to cuddle side by side, elbow to elbow, their food spread out over the small table in front of the couch.

  The change in venue was daunting and made his heart drop like a stone. But he kept his feelings to himself and grabbed the handles of the sacks to move them as asked.

  Phoebe stepped to the kitchen and quickly returned bearing a couple of spoons and tongs before seating herself in the chair furthest from where he stood. Without a word she began unloading the different cartons, never glancing at him once. It was clear she was all up in her head while he was nothing but a bystander, just some dude who brought dinner. But Ryker was not going to take that kind of behavior, not from her and not after all their time apart.

  “Something’s wrong,” he announced, dragging his chair out and slowly sinking into the seat. But even that didn’t capture her interest as she began to fill her plate. So he continued. “What’s going on, Phoebe?”

  Her eyes speared his for only a microsecond before dropping back down to her plate. “Nothing’s going on, Ryker. How about you? Are you doing okay?”

  He’d had enough and wasn’t afraid to show her. “I’m fucking hunky-dory after spending a week in New Mexico burying the last of my mom’s brothers then coming home to a girlfriend who doesn’t seem to have missed me as much as I missed her.”

  She blinked into her plate and Ryker saw the pink of her blush creeping up her neck before it infused her face.

  In a much softer, kinder voice he leaned his elbows on the table and bent forward. “I missed you, mi cariña.”

  She gave off a ladylike snort. “You did? It’s been a week and I didn’t hear from you. Not a text, a phone call not even smoke signals or a postcard to let me know you were alive. ”

  Ryker sat back in his chair at the venom in her voice as he considered her words. “I tried to call and text but with that piece of shit phone I have there was no reception.” He dragged his fingers through his hair on a sigh. “And I don’t know smoke signals. I guess I could have sent a postcard but the truth of the matter is I didn’t think to do it.”

  She had been looking at him while he spoke, but as soon as he was done, her eyes dipped down to her food again. Ryker copied the move only to see he had yet to fill his plate. So he grabbed a spoon and started dipping into the various cartons until there was a smattering of each selection in tidy piles around his dish. At least it gave him something to do while he waited for her to respond.

  “You couldn’t borrow phone? Ask anyone if you could use their cell the whole time you were there, just to let me know you were okay?” He chanced a glance upward and took in her angry expression. “Didn’t you think I’d be worried? Or did you get some kind of sick satisfaction at knowing I’d imagine the worst and go out of my mind not hearing from you.”

  “I sent you a text before we left, letting you know what was going on—”

  Her eyes narrowed and she leaned over her plate as she cut him off. “You did not.”

  “Yeah, Phoebe, I did.”

  She shook her head but he didn’t know if she was signifying ‘no’ or shaking her head in disbelief.

  “I didn’t get any text, Ryker. Which is weird, don’t you think? Especially since of all your previous texts came through perfectly,” she shot back sarcastically. “Even the ones from earlier today!”

  He stared at her as he searched his memory. He’d been in his office with his phone in his hand, planning to text Phoebe when Cruz exploded into the room and demanded he join them in Max’s office.

  Had he sent it or hadn’t he?

  Because he had absolutely no recollection of doing it.

  Fuck!

  Making the whole situation even worse than he imagined. She wasn’t just hurt he hadn’t kept in touch in his time away, she hadn’t even known he was leaving! And if the tables were turned, he would’ve been just as pissed.

  “Cariña, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

  Tipping her head down, she carefully and with the daintiest of moves piled food on her fork. “Let’s pretend for a moment that’s the truth.” Her mouth opened and accepted the forkful she pressed to it. Chewing and then swallowing, her eyes looked up at him as her chin remained pointed to her plate. “What exactly are you sorry for, Ryker?”

  He didn’t answer straight away, trying to find the exact words to tell her how badly he’d fucked everything up. Words to help heal the hurt and take them back to good.

  She turned her eyes to the closest wall and he heard her sigh. That small sound let him know how deeply he’d wounded her.

  “I and my family were on the road within two hours of getting the call about my uncle. I had to pack up my work then see to my mother, who was a complete mess, before we took to the road. I thought to send you a text to let you know what was going on, but time just got away from me. And when I thought about contacting you again, I was out of cellphone range.”

  One lone tear shimmered at the edge of the eye he could see, before gravity took over and it rolled down her cheek. She raised a hand as if to swipe it away but he quickly reached across the table and snagged it with his thumb before she could even complete the action.

  “I t-thought…” she started with the hitch in her voice. She cleared her throat and took a moment to compose herself before she looked his way again. “I thought you were done with me.”

  Yeah. He’d pretty much figured that out for himself, but it helped to have her lay it out, to give voice to her feelings. Giving him a clue on how to resolve the issue between them.

  Stretching his hand out again over the tabletop, he reached for her palm, taking hope when she didn’t pull away. “Never,” he whispered, trying to inject all the feeling in his heart in just that one two-syllable word as his fingers entwined with hers.

  Shoving the chair back with the back of his knees, Ryker stood using their connection to bring Phoebe to her feet as well. Rounding the short end of the table, he maneuvered them until they were facing one another. “I’m not done with you, mi cariña. Not even a little bit.”

  His heart took on a deeper beat at the doubt he saw in her eyes.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I stared up at Ryker searching to find the truth in his face and in the words he’d said. Most especially when he’d whispered ‘never’ with such sincerity. But I didn’t want to allow myself to hope, not after the pain I’d carried around in our time apart.

  But I wasn’t ready to totally let him off the hook. “It better not ever happen again.”

  He made an ‘x’ over his chest. “I promise, baby. Never again. And I’ll get a new phone tomorrow with all the bells and whistles so I can reach you from anywhere, at anytime.”

  To reward him for his promise, I took a half-step forward until we were pressed front to front as I looped my arms around his neck. “Good. Now will you shut up and kiss me hello?”

  Ryker brought his lips to mine, rubbing them slowly from side to side much like he’d done the first time he’d kissed me, as if he was re-familiarizing himself with the shape of my mouth. But that only lasted seconds because I tilted my head and parted my lips, using my body to communicate what I wanted.

  And what I wanted was more.

  Ryker didn’t disappoint, moving swiftly to tangle his tongue with mine with such a thoroughness my knees loosened and I moaned at how wonderful he felt in my arms. Just like we’d done when we’d first started dating, our simple kiss soon became a full on make-out session.
Only now that we knew all the other delightful things we could do together, just kissing wasn’t gonna cut it. Although there was no arguing it was an excellent way to start.

  He pulled back, disconnecting our mouths and on panted breath he growled, “I missed you so fucking much, Phoebe.”

  I couldn’t hold back my smile. “So you said. How about you show me instead of just talking about it.”

  His eyes became heated as he pushed me up against the wall. “You need me to show you, baby? I can do that. Oh hell, yeah. I can definitely fucking do that.”

  His lips came back to mine as his hands began to roam. First he captured my breasts, fondling and squeezing them with thrilling firmness, before zeroing in on my nipples creating delicious shivers in all sorts of fabulous places.

  My bottom was next to receive attention as he slid his hands between me and the wall, tracing the shape of it with his palms prior to cupping a cheek in each of his palms.

  Who knew my ass was so sensitive and when touched just right, by the right guy, could feel so sexy?

  Ryker bent his knees and pulled me up onto my toes though I wasn’t sure what he wanted me to do. “Hang on, mi cariña, and put your legs around my waist.”

  Oh shit!

  Anchoring myself on his shoulders, I did a small hop. As I hugged him with my legs, his hands went to the bottom of my butt, providing more support. But he wasn’t done shifting and moving us until he pressed the hardness behind his zipper into my crotch.

  And it felt awesome!

  Pushing me back into the wall, he used his hips to grind himself into me over and over until I was shaking with need, all the while keeping up his sensual assault on my mouth and sensitive neck. “Ryker…,” I moaned, tightening my legs to try and get closer, the closest I could get.

  “Need something, baby?” His voice came out muffled since he spoke without raising his lips from my skin.

  “Yesss….,” I hissed on a throaty mewl, unable to get out any additional words.

  In silence, he turned us and I looked around only to find we were moving very quickly down the hall, his feet never stopping until his knees hit the edge of the bed.