by Lisa N. Paul
Lyla turned her attention back to Ashley with her eyes soft and tender, the way they had been at the beginning of the conversation. “Sweetie, you deserve only good things. What happened with Leo was not your fault. Look at me.”
Lyla paused and waited until Ashley brought her eyes up to hers before saying, “It wasn’t your fault. What is your fault is the time you are choosing to let slip away from you and Ryan. That you can control, that you can claim. Seize your time, Ash, because you of all people know that it doesn’t always last forever.”
Ashley swallowed the lump in her throat along with the advice her two best girl friends had so willingly offered. The three women decided to forgo the spa for a day of hanging out with movies, junk food and talk of the upcoming storm.
There was something freeing about sharing the burden that had lain solely on her shoulders for so long with people that she trusted. However, just because the weight had been lightened didn’t mean it had been completely lifted. The guilt she still harbored over surviving when Leo had died trying to get to her was still suffocating. The pain she felt over the years of anguish she’d caused Ryan was still tormenting, and the feeling of not being good enough still loomed above her head, like thick black clouds preempting a great big storm.
No, she wasn’t ready to take off her mask, or step out from behind her curtain. And thank God she didn’t have to yet. She still had her house, her friends and Danny’s on Main—her one true home—to keep her grounded until she was finally ready to take those steps. And after the day’s events she knew the time was coming.
She just didn’t know how soon it would be.
She Likes Bribes
“GO HOME, BOYS, thanks for helping handle stuff around here,” Danny grumbled appreciatively, clapping Ryan, Max, and Gage on the back before walking them to the front door. They had congregated at the bar, Tuesday, as per Danny’s request to take some storm precautions. Ryan looked around and took in his surroundings—taped windows, stowed awnings, booths covered in plastic, tables and chairs hugged tightly together in the center of the bar. Yes, this place was braced for a storm. But was he?
“Ryan,” Danny called from across the bar, “don’t forget to tell Ashley not to come in tonight.” He looked out of the storm-prepped window at the driving rain, “The winds are already picking up steam and the worst of the storm isn’t supposed to hit for another six hours or so. I’m gonna stay closed until the storm passes. No reason to have any of you guys coming here when it’s unsafe. No one will be out anyway.”
“Have any you heard from Kyle?” Max questioned. Danny and Ryan both shook their heads.
“Gee, what a pity,” Gage deadpanned. The only thing that had stopped Gage from beating the shit out of Kyle—on multiple occasions—was their mutual friendship with Max. Gage often said that if it weren’t for Max, Kyle would have disappeared somewhere where no one would ever find him. Ryan wasn’t hundred percent certain if Gage was joking about that statement. He was definitely mysterious enough to be scary, so Ryan never deemed it important enough to ask.
“Gage?” Max lifted his brow.
“What the fuck, brother? I’ve had my own shit to deal with. Kyle, fucking Marx, ain’t on the top 100 of my ‘to do’ list this week, so don’t look at me like that.” Ryan watched as Max laughed out loud at Gage’s response. Most people found Gage intimidating—Ryan was one of them—but not Max. Max laughed at Gage’s little rant.
“Brother, I can’t take you seriously when you go all badass like that with me because when you bite back your smile, the fucking dimples in your cheeks show. What kind of badass biker has dimples? I mean, really?” Max was howling at his own humor. Ryan watched as Gage pulled his brows together in what should have been a scowl, but the twitch in his mouth kept the look from appearing menacing and what did you know, Max was right. As Gage’s lips drew up into a smirk, two big old dimples miraculously appeared, giving the larger-than-life biker a soft, more human-like quality.
“They really are kinda cute,” Ryan teased.
“I prefer scary,” Gage rumbled, his thick arms crossed over his even larger chest. Max’s snicker turned into a full on laugh, which had Gage laughing too.
“He’s not machine, he’s man,” Max snorted quoting his favorite line from Rocky IV. “Yeah, Gage, badass? Whatever.”
“Hey, Max, wanna talk about being a big badass?” Gage asked, with a glimmer in his crystal blue eyes. “Hey, guys, did DeLucca here tell you about the sweet little book he wrote—”
“Okay, okay,” Max interrupted Gage’s story. “I’m sorry, man, you’re a big, tough guy.” Max faked a shiver. “Look, I’m all scared of you and shit.” Gage crossed his thick tattooed arms over his huge muscled chest and quickly snapped his brows back together.
“So like I was saying, Maxy here wanted to win Jane back, so—”
“Gage.” Max shot a warning look. “Stop. I’m not the only person this story would embarrass. Think about it man.” Ryan watched the interaction between the two men and saw the exact moment the realization clicked in Gage’s face.
“You’re so fucking lucky I…you’re just lucky, DeLucca.” Gage ran his hand through his shoulder length hair and reached a long arm over to the bar to grab his leather jacket. “Alright, guys, I’ve gotta head back to the track to make sure it’s secure before heading over to my grandmother’s house. Max, you’re gonna head to the garage, right?”
“Yeah, brother, I’ll make sure shit’s tight before I head home.”
“Drive safely, man.” Ryan shook Gage’s hand and watched him run out to the parking lot through the sheets of rain.
“I’m gonna get going too. I told Janie I’d stop at the market before I go home. I don’t want her driving in this.” Max wore the look of a man completely and totally in love as he talked about the mundane task of going to the market. Ryan was happy for his close friend, but he felt a small pang of jealousy deep in his gut.
Sure, he had spent the past six months fooling around with different women, but that’s what it was—fooling around. All of the relations were consensual and fun, but they were also empty and meaningless. He’d been playing a childish game to get the attention of the only woman he wanted, but it had backfired. She barely even looked at him anymore, let alone spoke to him. Their friendship had suffered to the point of no return and he was miserable. He needed help. He needed someone who could point him in the right direction.
“You better get going too,” Danny said handing Ryan his jacket.
“You don’t want her being alone too long in this weather.” The knowing look on Danny’s face had Ryan sliding his arms through his jacket sleeve and rushing out into the rain.
“Max!” He called, trying to shout above the roar of the whooshing wind. He held his hand to his face to shield it from the debris that had been blown up off the street… “Wait up!” Max heard his call and pointed to the passenger door of his jeep. Ryan quickly climbed in, his clothes drenched despite the brief journey.
“What’s up, buddy?”
Ryan ran his hands over his face wiping away the stray droplets that rested on his long dark lashes. “I can’t continue living this way—being with all these women, pretending I don’t care. It sounded like a bad idea when you guys suggested it back then, but I went along with it. But Max, man, it’s killing me, and she won’t admit it but I just know it’s hurting Ashley too. What the fuck do I do?”
Max’s head fell back to lean against the headrest of the driver’s seat. “Christ, Ryan, I forgot all about that night. That’s what this has been all about? Fuck…”
Anxiety started clawing its way up Ryan’s spine. “You…you forgot about that night? Really? The night you and Kyle told me to move on and fuck other women, I believe your toast was, ‘The more the merrier.’ You’re a dick! Jesus, Max, this is my fucking life…and you forgot?”
“First of all, Ryan, now that you mention it, I believe I told you that I wouldn’t march random women in front of Ashley. In fac
t, I know I told you that she’s a tough chick and she scares the hell out of me when she gets pissed. Second, I was in a bad place myself. You were the one taking love advice from me and Kyle. Are you crazy? And third, you’re an adult, dude. At any point you could’ve stopped that crazy shit and reevaluated, but you didn’t. Don’t blame that on me, that’s all you.”
“Shit.” Ryan released the breath he was holding. “You’re right. I guess I’m just looking for someone to blame, but it’s not you. I fucked up. I’m just so tired of being shut out, and I thought if I made her jealous enough I’d win her back, but instead I’ve lost her completely. Other than picking her up a couple months ago when you and Janie were still trying to get your shit together, I haven’t spent any time alone with her. We’re either with the group or she avoids me. What do I do?”
“No way am I touching this subject because, clearly, I suck at giving relationship advice. I can, however, point you toward the person who saved my life.” Ryan waited for Max to continue, but the silence inside the vehicle stretched on as the rain pounded on the hood of the car. Realization and Max’s stare hit Ryan square in the face.
“Wait, Lyla helped you with Janie after you tortured that poor woman, right?” Max nodded his confirmation.
“Lyla is pretty fucking smart when it comes to this shit. My only advice— she likes bribes, so don’t go over there empty handed.”
“I need to pay her for her services?” Ryan was flabbergasted.
“No, you idiot. Don’t you pay attention to anybody besides Ashley?” Ryan thought about that question and the answer was honestly, no. Ashley’s wellbeing and happiness always came first. Everyone else came much further down the list.
“No, man, I don’t.”
Max clapped Ryan’s shoulder as he turned the key in his ignition. “Raspberry truffles, Ry. The ones in the gold box from the store down the street. Now get out, I’ve got shit to do.”
Ryan exited the car and stood in the rain, watching Max drive away. Energy filled his body as the possibilities started to flood his mind, Lyla, huh? Okay. I’ll go see Lyla.
The grocery store was mobbed with people trying to fill their carts with bottled water, bread, eggs, and batteries. Ashley had purchased the water and batteries two days prior so she was just trying to stock up on non-perishable items in case the power lines snapped. Memories of her youth swept through her mind—images of her and Leo eating Fruit-Roll-Ups and dry cereal until their bellies hurt. Usually by the second or third day without electricity they would be sick of the junk food and be begging their nannies for fruit or peanut butter sandwiches.
Her memories floated away as, “Demons” by Imagine Dragons started playing on her phone.
“What’s up, Ryan?” She said cheerfully. Keeping up the faux-friendly tone was becoming increasingly difficult as their relationship became more and more strained over the past month or so. She had contemplated discussing her feelings with him, but it felt like he’d been avoiding her. She had barely seen or heard from him other than text messages or Post-It notes in days. I mean, really? Who used Post-it notes anymore?
“Where are you, Princess?” Just the sound of his voice asking that simple question affected every part of her body.
“I’m at the market getting food in case we end up losing power during this thing.” She couldn’t even bring herself to say the word ‘hurricane’. One of the reasons she’d chosen to stay in Charistown, Pennsylvania was because of the infrequency of major weather events—this was the first hurricane to hit the small town in the years since she had been living there. “Is there anything specific you want me to pick up for you?”
“No, Ash, anything you get we’ll make do with until we can get out after the storm passes. So hurry up and get home.”
Ashley froze mid-step, what did he mean by ‘we’ll make do with’? The thought of having to deal with one of his many bar flies or music groupies made her want to vomit. There was no way, she was going back to her house if she was gonna be trapped there hearing them all day and all night. It would kill her. “Ash, you okay?”
With her mouth suddenly bone dry, Ashley tried to swallow before responding. “Ry, listen, I know that you and I aren’t…” She searched her vocabulary, trying to find the right words to convey her thoughts but, like the moisture in her mouth, they escaped her.
“We’re not what, Ash?” Ryan’s voice sounded dark, serious, and maybe even a little nervous.
“Umm, I don’t even know what we are any more, Ryan, I’m not even sure if we’re friends at this point. God…look, it’s ridiculous to discuss this on the phone while I’m standing in the market and you’re…where ever the hell you’ve been lately. But all I’m asking is, can you please not bring one of your, and I use this term loosely, women back to the house tonight? Who knows if we’re gonna get stuck in tomorrow, and I just can’t deal with another one of your Wailing Wendy’s screaming through the wall. Okay?”
The pause on the other end of the line felt endless. Was he upset with her for asking him to put a pause on his pussy party? Tough shit. It was her house. Her name was on the mortgage not his, so if he didn’t like it he could do as she’d suggested and move the hell out. Yet, as soon as that thought hit her consciousness, panic struck just as hard. What if he left? How would she move on without him?
“Ashley,” Ryan’s gentle voice interrupted her internal dialogue. “I understand why you feel the need to make that request. I can’t tell you how it makes me feel, but you have every right to lay it out there. But, Princess, I’ve been around a long time. I know how these storms affect you. You may question the status of our relationship but there is one thing you should never doubt, and that’s the fact that I will always be your very best friend. Before anything else in this world, I am your friend. And, as your friend, I would never let you down in a storm.” His voice became not much louder than a whisper when he added, “Ever again.”
Relief warmed her body like the sun on an August afternoon. He was still her friend. Yet, as soon as the warmth hit, a frost penetrated her tender skin. Friend, he’d said. I am your friend. He’d finally moved on. She finally managed to push him away. She was relieved but heartbroken. The nausea that came with her back and forth thoughts was unsettling, so she decided to table them until she got the shopping done and got home safely. The last thing she wanted to do was be out driving once night fell.
“Okay” was the only word she could manage before disconnecting the call.
“Fuck!” Ryan’s voice boomed in his empty car the minute Ashley hung up. “Why wouldn’t she question whether or not you’re gonna bring home a random chick, Baker?” He argued with himself as he pulled out of the chocolate store’s parking lot and onto the main road. “She doesn’t know if we’re even friends anymore? What the hell?” His clothes clung to him and rain water saturated the driver’s seat. This did nothing to improve his rapidly souring mood. The only thing that kept him from boiling over was that he finally had some semblance of a plan. Now he just prayed it would help.
When he pulled into Lyla’s driveway he felt a vise grip his gut. What if she didn’t want to help him? Christ, Max had thought he’d been acting like a dick and he’d been the one to give him the advice in the first place. What would she think? Here goes nothing, he thought.
Ryan unclicked his seat belt and once again stepped out into the storm. Be quick, he told himself, and get home to her.
When Lyla didn’t answer the doorbell the first time he rang again, cursing a blue streak for not thinking to call ahead instead of turning up unannounced. Just about ready to give up, he heard the clink of the deadbolt being released and the jingle of the chain sliding off of the latch.
“Who the…? Oh, Ryan…” Confusion marred Lyla’s face for a second before a slow closed lipped smile spread across her mouth. Awareness flashed through her eyes when they lowered to see what he was holding in his hands.
“Oh, Max, my wonderful protégé,” she muttered. Her small smirk beca
me a full grin as she opened her door widely, motioning Ryan in from the rain. “Stay right there, I’ll run and get you a couple of towels. You’re dripping like a wet dog.” Before turning away, she reached down and swiped the golden box from Ryan’s drenched hand. “No reason to let a perfectly good bribe get ruined.” Ryan didn’t bother to stifle his chuckle as he watched her move quickly down the hall and out of sight.
A few moments later Lyla returned, arms full of fluffy towels and a sweatshirt. “Why don’t you take off your jacket and shirt, Ry, and I’ll throw them in the dryer for you?” She scoffed at his raised brow. “Get real, Baker. You may be nice on the eyes but you’re not my type.”
“I’ve seen you with a lot of men, Lyla Dalton,” he inspected the XXL sweatshirt he was about to slip over his head, “and this sweatshirt isn’t even yours so my question is, what exactly is your type?”
Lyla wrapped his sodden clothing up in the equally wet towels and looked at him thoughtfully for a moment before turning her back on him and walking back down the hallway into what he guessed was the laundry room. Just when he thought Lyla had avoided yet another question, she glided back through the hall and threw something directly at his face.
“Think fast.”
Ryan’s hand shot out and caught the folded up ball of…socks in his right hand. “Your feet are probably wet too. Put those on. As for my kind of man, I’m not looking for the white horse or the right guy, I’m just looking for the smooth moves and the right now. As long as he doesn’t belong to someone else, that’s all that matters to me.” She sidled up close to Ryan and he thought to himself that their height difference would have been laughable, had the mood been different.
“You, my friend, have belonged to someone else for far longer than I’ve known you. So, while I can appreciate the painting on the wall I would never dare touch the artwork. Come on into my kitchen, I’ll make you something warm to drink.”