The Safe Bet (The Game Changers #3)

by Shealy James

  I let out a huge sigh and glanced around. The loft space was small, but there was a comfy couch up there. This wouldn’t be the first time I had slept on it. Sometimes I just fell asleep reading and never went home. I remembered the days when Jordan worried, but then he realized it would likely continue to happen and let it go. Now he wanted me gone and had brought home the one person who made me want to disappear. Maybe he did it to ensure I left. I was guessing it was that damn closure thing again, though.

  I kicked off my shoes and snuggled onto the couch with my favorite throw, my pie, and a fork. Once I had my book pulled up on my e-reader, I dug into my pie. I know. I know. What was a girl who owned a used bookstore doing reading on an e-reader? It was like this: they don’t sell all books in paperbacks these days. There were some great e-books out there, and that was why I also sold gift cards and hosted a book club. My business would undoubtedly go under within the next five years, but that would be okay with me. I didn’t like to do one thing for too long anyway. I was enjoying it while it lasted, just like my pie.

  It was already halfway gone when my stomach started to revolt, but did that stop me from taking two more bites? Oh no.

  My phone rang just as I considered giving up. If it was Jordan, he could shove it, but I had a sneaking suspicion it was my mother calling to check in. She was the kind of mom who only called once a week but panicked if I didn’t answer the phone the one time she did, so I forced myself from the comfy couch and followed the sound of bells to my purse, which had mysteriously hidden itself under a table. I made it just in time to answer before it went to voicemail, but my mother wasn’t the one on the other end.

  “Reagan,” a small voice cried when I answered the phone.

  It took me a second to process what she said. “Meyer?” She was at a sleepover. She shouldn’t be calling. To be fair, she didn’t really want to go. It was only her second one, so Jordan and I were still unsure how to handle her staying overnight with friends. We encouraged it but still went over nine million rules before she left. It was our job to make sure she felt beyond loved.

  “Reagan! Come get me,” she wailed.

  “Meyer? What’s wrong?” She was crying, which had never happened before. When she was a baby, she cried maybe three times. All three times were because of poopy diapers that exploded out of her diaper like a bomb had gone off. I would have cried too if that happened to me.

  “Are you coming?”

  Her tone had me shooting into action. “Yes! I’m at the store, so I’ll be there in like ten minutes or so.”

  “Hurry!”

  “You want to tell me why you’re upset?” I asked her as I set my pie to the side and dug in my purse for my keys.

  “No. Just hurry!” she wailed then hung up on me. I glanced down at my phone in disbelief. My calm, cool niece was suddenly turning into a dramatic preteen. This was not okay. If she was becoming anything like me, we were doomed.

  I rushed out of the store, almost forgetting to lock up and actually forgetting my shoes, but who cared? It was the beach and Meyer needed me. When I turned around from locking the door, I didn’t look up fast enough and ran right into a brick wall.

  Nope. That was definitely not a brick wall. It had clothes and…oh dear God. It was a man. My fingers were crawling up a man’s chest. There were definitely feet in my field of vision.

  I followed the well-defined calves up to the khaki shorts and the fitted, light blue polo to the face I had been trying to avoid. I saw my hands on his chest like an out of body experience and momentarily told myself to remember the way it felt because it had been a long time since I had my hands on a man with muscles like this. When my brain and body connected after yet another malfunction, I ripped them away from him like he was a hot potato.

  “I don’t know what you’re doing here, but I have to go,” I said.

  “Reagan, we have to talk.”

  “The time to talk was ten years ago, Brock.” I stepped around him and headed toward the parking lot, only to find he had fallen in step with me.

  “You aren’t wearing shoes.”

  “I’m in a hurry.” I picked up the pace to prove my point.

  “Why’d you leave?”

  I dashed down the stairs and prayed there weren’t little pebbles, enemies of the bare feet, in the parking lot. “Because like I told you the last two times I saw you this decade, I don’t want to see you.” It was the simplest explanation even if it wasn’t entirely true.

  “Yeah, we need to talk about that.” Was he seriously still following me?

  There were only a few cars in the parking lot. Teens often came here to hook up on the beach only to get chased off by the cops. I was always fascinated by the people thought the sandy shore was romantic. Who wanted that shit up their crack? Even if you brought a blanket, sand still found a way of getting everywhere.

  I opened my car door but it slammed and stayed closed from the big paw and meaty arm holding it shut. “Reagan! Stop running.”

  I hauled my body to a stop and turned to face the hulk who was currently slowing me down. “I have somewhere to be right now. Can we do this later?” And by later, I meant never.

  “No. We’re doing this now,” he growled. That was hot, and my body responded like the repressed cavewoman she was. I shamed her and mentally reminded her to have some class.

  “I can’t,” I ground out. “Come back tomorrow.” Then, using all the strength I had left after my workout that day, I pushed the wall of muscle away. Amazingly, he let me climb in my car and drive away. My relief was short lived, though. A big truck pulled out of the parking lot behind me and followed me down the suburban streets where Meyer’s friend lived. He wasn’t giving up.

  Pulling up to the house where I had dropped Meyer off for parties before, I climbed out of my car, hoping Brock was smart enough to stay put. He was, although he looked rather suspicious sitting in his big truck outside a ten-year-old girl’s birthday party. It wasn’t my problem. I wasn’t the creeper in the truck.

  Julie’s mom was opening the front door as I climbed the steps. “Thank goodness you’re here. I can’t get her to come out of the bathroom.”

  I entered their upscale brick home like a woman on a mission. I was going to save the kid from herself and eliminate this perplexing situation from tonight’s list of dramatic events. Julie’s mom guided me to a bathroom on the main floor, where she knocked and alerted Meyer to my presence.

  Meyer cracked the door, allowing me to see her tear-stained face as she sat on the floor of the bathroom. My heart broke a little as I took in my sweet niece hiding peeking out with swollen eyes and red cheeks. With a nod of her head, she granted me permission to enter her safe space. I dropped my purse and quickly lowered myself to her level and hugged her to me.

  “What’s up, kiddo?”

  “I’m dying,” she sobbed.

  “What?” Surely I had misheard her.

  “I’m bleeding from down there and the internet says I could have cancer.” He sobs shook her whole body. For such a smart girl, she was really missing the boat on this one.

  “Wait. Let me get this straight. You are bleeding from down there, and you looked it up online?” She nodded against me. “And the website said you have cancer.” She nodded again. “It didn’t say that you could be starting your period?”

  “I’m too young,” she cried into my shirt.

  “Sorry to break it to you, but you’re definitely not too young to ride the crimson wave. Welcome to womanhood, monster. It sucks.”

  “What about the cancer?”

  “I feel confident that you don’t have the cancer, but I could take you to a doctor to have your downtown checked out.”

  “No!” She sat up like a rocket launching and gave me a cartoonish bug-eyed look.

  “All right. All right,” I surrendered. “How about we handle this the way my mom did with me? Ice cream and a midnight tampon run?”

  “You want me to stick something up in there?” Meye
r looked horrified, which was progress from the tears and the bug-eyed, shocked look.

  “No, but I find the words ‘pad’ and ‘feminine napkin’ revolting.”

  “I find this whole conversation revolting,” she replied.

  “I can’t say I disagree, kid. Now let’s blow this joint before my butt flattens from sitting on this pristine marble.”

  “What about the girls out there?”

  “What about them? We’ll tell them you’re sick. They don’t need to know anything else.”

  “But my pants…”

  “Ah. Yes. Here.” I took off the cardigan I had over my sleeveless dress. It was long on her, so it covered what it needed to hide and made her feel comfortable enough to walk out. I left her with the contents of my purse and a couple of instructions for how to deal with the merchandise. Then I headed out to find Julie’s mom and Meyer’s overnight bag.

  Once all that was taken care of, we headed to where I parked, where Brock was still sitting waiting on me to return. I had forgotten about him during the bloody crisis. Ugh. Had I remembered, I would have probably prevented him from seeing Meyer. He was going to ruin my ice cream run. I just knew it.

  I pulled away and started to drive to the twenty-four hour grocery, but thought twice and turned to go home.

  “Reagan, is that truck following us?” Meyer asked from the passenger seat as she watched the lights behind us in the side mirror.

  “Yes.”

  “Care to explain?” Meyer was beyond her years in most things except internet searches. She spoke like an adult because we waited too long to socialize her with other kids, or so her teachers have said. Whoops.

  “No.”

  She hummed as she glanced in the mirror, suspicious of our follower.

  A red light stopped us and gave me a second to think. “How about I drop you at home with Zoe and you get a movie set up and throw on your fleece pajamas? I’ll go get ice cream and essentials, then we’ll stay up all night watching movies and force your dad to make us pancakes in the morning.”

  “Did you already tell Zoe?”

  “I texted from the mega mansion we just left.”

  “Cool. Then I’m down. As long as I don’t have to say it out loud to anyone.”

  I laughed. “Don’t worry, monster. I’ve got your back.”

  I dropped her off, making sure she made it in the house okay and praying the big bad wolf in the truck behind me stayed put long enough for me not to have to kick his ass. Meyer gave one last curious look as she closed the front door. Thankfully, I had texted Zoe a warning, so she knew Meyer would be home. She would distract her right away from her troubles and my stalker. Not only had Zoe agreed to start movie time, but she also promised to rid the estrogen-filled family room of Jordan and his testosterone. Hopefully he understood, but Jordan wasn’t known for being the most perceptive one in the house.

  The door to the house had hardly shut before the door to my car flew open. My foot didn’t even have a chance to transition from break to gas.

  “Who was that?” Brock growled.

  I turned to look him in the eye with the angriest glare I could muster for someone who was a foot away from the man who held her heart ten years ago and had yet to meet someone who could even slightly compare. He once made me the happiest girl in the world but that was then. I hated that the excitement I felt around him had never dissipated. After I had spent the last decade avoiding intense feelings, the flock of butterflies in my stomach was altogether unpleasant when mixed with the fear and hurt that time was supposed to cure.

  “Get out of my car.” I sounded a lot stronger than I felt.

  “It’s a nice car…like a tank. What does your mom think of it?”

  I drove a black Hummer. It was awesome, but my mom was of the opinion that it was silly to buy such an environmentally unfriendly car. “She thinks I’m solely responsible for global warming.”

  “You could run someone over in that thing.”

  “Not when I drive like a grandma.”

  “Since when?” he snorted. That joke would never be funny.

  “You done?” I asked, ignoring his comment about how I used to drive. He hadn’t ridden with me in a long time…since before…

  “Who is she, Rea?”

  I didn’t respond to what sounded like an accusation. Instead, I just waited for him to exit the vehicle.

  “You’re not going to answer? Okay. Here’s what I know. She looks just like you. She’s probably a little older than we were when we met, which coincidentally is about the same amount of time since you disappeared. Seeing her is like déjà vu. So tell me, Rea, is she the reason you stayed away for so long?”

  Of course he thought the worst. He really believed Meyer was a secret I kept all this time. Hurt tore through me, but I gave him the truth in words laced with spite. “Yes,” I choked out the lie, then gained control of my voice. “She’s the reason I stayed away. Now, get the fuck out of my car.”

  Silence stretched between us for what seemed like minutes, but the clock didn’t move while I watched the bluish or maybe greenish numbers light up the car. What was that color? Was it considered blue or green?

  “I’m not leaving until you talk to me, so you might as well drive to wherever you were headed,” Brock said as he buckled his seatbelt.

  My body was strung tight, and I felt like I was going to explode at any second. Why, why, why wouldn’t he just leave me alone?

  Still parked in my spot, I white-knuckled the steering wheel. “She’s not yours, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “That’s not what I was thinking. She’s just…it’s like you were cloned.”

  “She’s Jordan’s daughter. That’s Meyer. I’m sure he’s told you about her. Now, will you leave me alone now?” I hated how I suddenly sounded weak. Only he had this kind of power over me.

  “We don’t have to be enemies. Just tell me what I did to make you never want to see me again, because for the life of me I can’t figure it out.”

  When I didn’t answer, he let out a frustrated sigh. Yeah? I know the feeling. I was frustrated with myself as well. I had been for a long time, and I didn’t see any relief in my future.

  “I can’t forget about you, Reagan. If I could, I would have already.” Then he climbed out of my car. Seconds later his truck roared past me, and I was left feeling like I had lost him all over again. Maybe I lost a piece of myself this time. I couldn’t be sure, but I knew something was definitely broken inside of me.

  Later that night, long after I had locked myself away from Brock and Jordan and the drama, the memories returned. I knew it was only a matter of time before the nightmares took over.

  Chapter Five

  September 2008

  I saw him on a Saturday. He was just like I remembered. Maybe he had a few more tattoos, but otherwise he looked exactly the same. He approached me with his signature smirk firmly in place and a walk that spoke of his confidence. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t little Reagan Anders.”

  “Adam!” I quickly closed the last of the distance between us and gave him a hug, forgetting for a moment that anyone from high school was an unwelcome sight. Adam was the kind of guy who made you forget your troubles. He was just Adam. He had always been different, the nice guy, the one who put everyone else before him.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m visiting my mom. Seattle is in between us, so it’s easier to meet here for a short visit. What about you?” I didn’t want to tell him more on the off chance he would speak to others, one person in particular. I was still in the avoiding stage, and by avoiding Brock, I had to avoid everything else associated with him.

  “I have a bar close to Pike’s Place called Hank’s. I just inherited it and plan to renovate it as soon as I can. Come by and have a drink sometime.”

  The news that he ran a bar had me pausing my escape. “What happened to painting?”

  He shrugged. “It doesn’t always pay the bills. Ther
e’s a mural at the bar.” Adam lifted a hand to scratch his jaw then added, “You should really come by, Rea.”

  Rea. He called me the nickname Brock used to call me. There’s no way Adam could know what happened. He wasn’t there. Sure, he and Brock were friends at one time and might still be, but Brock was never one to hold deep conversations with anyone…well, anyone but me.

  I shook my head, trying to escape the memories. This was what I had been trying to evade. Even after all these years, thinking about Brock still pierced my heart in the most unpleasant way. It seemed it didn’t matter how much time passed, the mere mention of his name caused a physical reaction so automatic that no amount of self-help books or psychology classes could make it stop. The churning sensation I was feeling paired with a dry mouth that made it difficult to swallow was only the beginning. I had been through all the defense mechanisms: denial, repression, regression, displacement, projection, reaction formation, intellectualization, rationalization, and now sublimation. I had been moving on with life. Now, it seemed Adam was forcing me to head right back into denial with one conversation.

  “Reagan?” Adam said my name again with a worried expression that made me feel guilty for ignoring someone who was once a really good friend.

  “Yeah, I’ll stop by.” I didn’t know why I agreed. There had always been something about Adam. I was never attracted to him, but he had a way of suckering me in. The boy gave good woo.

  “That’s all I ask.” Adam wrapped me in his arms. The hug was oddly comforting, considering I hadn’t been really hugged by a man in…too long. No need to put a time on that in particular, but that hug was the reason I showed up at the bar. That and the promise. I make an effort to keep my promises. Being let down too many times by someone who doesn’t keep his word will do that to you.

  A crowded bar had never been my idea of a good time. Too many drunkards made me nervous, but tonight my anxiety stemmed from more than just the possibility of an out-of-control crowd. In the back of my mind, I kept thinking that immersing myself in Adam’s world came at a huge risk.