Lithium Waves: A Lithium Springs Novel

by Carmel Rhodes

  Ryder’s jaw ticked but he stayed quiet. He wouldn’t give that ballbag the satisfaction of his words.

  “I’ll make it easy for you. Walk away from her and I’ll give you ten thousand dollars right now.”

  “Shove it up your ass,” Ryder said. He was a ticking time bomb. If this motherfucker didn’t leave soon, he’d without a doubt be in jail.

  “Twenty thousand,” Jared countered with a grin. He was haggling over a human being, getting off on flexing his power. Twenty grand was nothing for a rich dick like Jared, but that kind of money would turn Ryder’s life around. Jared wasn’t a man, he was a monster in a pretty suit. “Thirty,” he said with a yawn.

  Unfortunately for him, Ryder didn’t bend and his soul wasn’t for sale.

  Jamie was absolutely his fucking soul.

  “You’ve got about one minute to get the fuck out of my face before I start breaking your bones.”

  Jared stood, chuckling. He fastened a button on his suit jacket, then added, “If you change your mind, call me.”

  A small black square hit Ryder in the chest, a business card. Wrath colored Ryder’s world. He took two steps towards the door but halted when he felt a hand tugging at his elbow. Turning, Ry spotted Liz, her face solemn. “Get back to work, Son. He isn’t worth it.”

  Kensie: I know you aren’t talking to me and I know I deserve it, but I couldn’t let the day pass without saying something. I swear I’ll make this right when I get home. I love you, Jam. Happy 25th birthday.

  Twenty-five.

  There was a time when Jamie thought she’d never see the day. She was running full-speed down the path of self-destruction, hiding from love, and from the truth. She always considered herself a seeker of knowledge, it’s why she did what she did for a living. Last fall, she’d learned honesty and self-awareness was like being sliced in the stomach and having your light pulled from the gash. It was ugly and painful, but accepting those truths and releasing her demons into the atmosphere had saved her life.

  Be thankful.

  Be mindful.

  Be kind.

  She chanted silently, staring at her phone screen. She was at a loss for words. Things with Kensie had gotten so messed up, Jamie couldn’t think of anything to say to her best friend.

  “Who died?” Chris asked coming up to the table. They were at The Upper Deck, a driving range and bar that had just opened in Seattle. Her twenty-fifth birthday party was in full swing. All her friends were there, well, all but the one she needed most; the one who knew her deepest darkest secrets and loved her anyway.

  Turning her phone to her brother, Jamie showed him the message. Chris’ eyes scanned the screen before he took the phone from her and tapped out a response. When he was done, he handed it back.

  Jamie: I love you too, Ken.

  “I knew you couldn’t write it,” he shrugged, “but I also know it’s how you feel.”

  She nodded, and her lip quivered with sadness. He was right, she loved Kensington. Neither of them were perfect, but that was part of why they got along so well. Kensie was just better at covering up her flaws.

  “This place is great,” Chris said, steering the conversation away from the heavy shit. They still hadn’t unpacked everything from his failed attempt at coming out, but following Manning tradition, they swept it under the rug. It was easier to pretend everything was fine, even when the world was burning around them.

  “It’s new,” Jamie said. If he was going to ignore the elephant in the room, she would too. “I’ve wanted to come check it out for a while. I did a piece on it for WSEA-9.”

  Twenty rows of putting greens lined the rooftop. Their motley crew took up three of those stations. The guys from the band, Parker, Lo, a few of her friends from the station, and some of the Rabbit Hole staff all showed up to help her celebrate. Drinks flowed freely, and everyone was having a good time.

  “I know we are avoiding the subject, but how are you and he doing?” Jamie asked tipping her chin in Parker’s direction. It was his turn to tee off, and he and CT made a bet on who would score the most points.

  Chris’s gaze dropped to his Jack and Coke. “We’re good. He’s been more understanding than I deserve,” he sighed, before finally lifting his eyes to meet hers. “We’re worried about you, Jam. Dad freezing your trust, that was—”

  “I’m fine baby brother. I’m better than fine. I make enough at the station to live comfortably. I might have to give these up,” she said, wiggling her Gucci clad foot, “but I can eat and pay rent and not have to feel like I’m indebted to him for anything.”

  “What about the other thing?” he asked.

  “What other thing?” She knew what other thing, but she was hoping he’d drop it.

  “James,” he pushed. This wasn’t how Jamie wanted to spend her birthday. “Why is dad so hell bent on the two of you?”

  “I suppose I’m collateral in this deal their working? I don’t know. You’re guess is as good as mine. You work there.”

  Chris scanned the room. Everyone was oblivious to their whispered conversation. “Things are rough at Manning Solutions. I’m not sure exactly what’s going on yet, but I know Dad has a lot riding on this deal with Jared’s company.”

  Jamie rubbed her tattoo across her bottom lip. Her father was a rich bastard; he came from money, her mother too. Even if the company was in trouble, they’d still be richer than most. This wasn’t about money, it was about power. The power that came from being the CEO of a Fortune 500 company. That was the thing that made Archer tick.

  “Enough with the sad shit,” Jamie said clapping her hands. Her voice dropped even lower, “What do you think of my biker?”

  “I’d give up my trust for him too,” Chris chuckled before draining his glass.

  “I’m telling Parker,” she grinned.

  “I think he’s in love with the drummer.” They both turned to look, and sure enough, Parker was laughing a little too hard at whatever it was CT was saying. “He’s not gay, is he?” Chris asked.

  “You’re safe,” Ryder smirked, coming up behind Jamie. He tugged on her ponytail, forcing her head backwards. His lips grazed hers. “Happy birthday, Kitty Cat,” he whispered before slipping his tongue into her mouth. Their kiss was slow, lazy, and all consuming. He tasted like cinnamon and spice and everything that was right in her life. Jamie lost herself in Ryder, in his kiss and in his touch. It was desperate, the way she clung to him and him to her. Then he was gone.

  “There are children here,” CT teased, pulling Ryder back playfully. He and Parker joined them at the table. Ryder pulled Jamie to her feet, then slipped into her chair, dragging her onto his lap. She could feel her brother’s eyes on her, but she refused to make contact. He’d just witnessed her making out with a guy, in public, something old Jamie was firmly against, but this wasn’t just any guy, this was her guy. This was Ryder.

  “Who won?” Ry asked, pulling a silver flask from his pocket. He took a long swig before shaking it and frowning. He was drinking more than usual, but it was a party, and Jamie was in no position to call anyone out for drinking.

  Reaching for the flask, she brought it to her lips. “Is that why you taste like Christmas?” she grinned, the cinnamon flavored whiskey heated her cheeks even more than their make-out session.

  “It’s been a shitty week, Kitty Cat,” he replied, rubbing his nose against hers.

  “Wanna talk about it?” He’d been a little distant, but he had been pulling doubles at Cibo, trying to make up for the four weeks of work he’d missed, so she assumed it was exhaustion.

  “Nope,” he said, taking the flask back. “It’s your birthday. I want to get shit-faced with my girl and have fun.”

  He was keeping something from her, but she wasn’t sure what. Inhaling, she ran her tattoo over his bottom lip, silently imploring him to let her in. Their eyes met and for a second, the sounds of metal crashing against plastic faded and it was just the two of them.

  Ryder caught her finger with his te
eth and bit down gently.

  “Tell me,” she breathed.

  “You first,” he countered.

  Confusion marred her face, but before she could vocalize her thoughts, her brother spoke, tearing her and Ryder from the moment. “I almost forgot,” Chris said, pulling an envelope out of his pocket. The corners were wrinkled and there was a coffee stain on the back. Jamie quirked a brow at the mangled card. “Sorry,” he added, handing it over.

  It was light blue, her favorite color, and the faint scent of sandalwood clung to the cardstock, a scent she’d know in her sleep. “Mom?” she asked.

  Chris bobbed his head up and down.

  The server came by, replacing empty glasses with full ones. Jamie reached for the icy Jack and Coke and took a sip to calm her nerves. This was her night. Twenty-five was her year and she wasn’t going to let her family bring her down, especially not on day one.

  “Open it,” her brother encouraged. She and Chris were close but they didn’t talk often about the stark contrast in their upbringings. His was loving and nurturing, well, about as nurturing as Caroline could be. Jamie, on the other hand, was just there, looking in, doing whatever she could to get their parents attention.

  With a roll of her eyes, Jamie slid her finger under the flap and ripped it open. Inside was a card made from heavy stock paper, with an intricate flower design on the front. The message was a generic happy birthday, but it was what was inside that took her breath away. A slim, black credit card fell to the table. Her eyes flew to her brother’s before scanning the card again. Written in her mother’s flowy script were three little words,

  Just in case.

  “Why would she do this?” Jamie’s voice cracked and Ryder instinctively tightened his arms around her.

  “She loves you, Jam,” Chris insisted.

  “Hardly,” Jamie snorted.

  “Dad’s an asshole and mom has grown bitter being married to him for so long, but deep down, in her own fucked up way, she loves you. Plus,” he added with a grin, “I think she knows I’m queer and is hedging her bets since dad will probably disown me too,” he laughed.

  “What’s that about?” Ryder whispered in her ear.

  Shit.

  She was going to kill her brother. Jamie still hadn’t gotten around to telling Ryder about her trust, or lack thereof, but it wasn’t something she could just bring up over dinner.

  “I don’t know, my brother’s drunk,” she said, kicking Chris in the shin.

  “Hey, that hurt,” Christopher yelped.

  “Are you sure everything’s okay?” Ryder asked.

  “I’m sure.”

  Ryder’s jaw ticked and he stood abruptly, nearly sending Jamie crashing to the ground. “I’m going to get a refill,” he snapped.

  “Dude, there are a million drinks on the table,” CT said, pointing to the glasses the server just left.

  Ryder kept walking, ignoring the strange looks from their friends. Something was wrong, but in true Manning fashion, Jamie swept that shit under the rug too.

  An hour and an ungodly amount of Jack Daniels later, everyone seemed to forget Ryder’s little temper tantrum. They also seemed to forget how to play golf. The competition between Parker and CT devolved from how many points they could score, to how far they could throw the golf balls.

  The Upper Deck staff didn’t appreciate their game.

  “You guys get home safe,” Jamie said, wrapping her brother and Parker into a group hug.

  “You too, and Ry, nice meeting you man.” Chris extended his hand to Ryder, pulling him into one of those weird, dude-bro type hugs. They exchanged hushed words, but Jamie couldn’t make out what they were saying. Initially, she dismissed it as some sort of drunken bonding experience, but the look on Ryder’s face told her it was deeper than that. It was a look that twisted her insides into knots.

  Did Chris tell him about her trust?

  Worry ate at Jamie as everyone finished saying their goodbyes and climbed into their respective cars. Ryder led Jamie to the back of the UberXL while CT and Javi settled in the middle row.

  The car took off into the night and Jamie couldn’t help but notice the distance she felt from Ryder. Not physically. Physically, he hovered, like always. One of his arms was draped around her shoulder, casually groping her breast. Emotionally, though, he long since checked out. His head rested on the tinted glass and that damn flask was never far from his lips. He was taking the brooding, bad boy thing a little far.

  “What was that thing with my brother?” Jamie blurted out, too drunk for subtlety.

  “Nothing I didn’t already know,” he slurred. His focus remained on the passing scenery.

  “Are you mad at me?” she whispered. Her eyes darted to the backs of CT and Javi’s head. They were debating who threw the golf ball furthest, oblivious to the tension in the back seat.

  “I don’t know, should I be?”

  Jamie huffed, tired of the cryptic bullshit. “It’s my fucking birthday. We are supposed to be happy. You’re supposed to be fingering me and whispering for me to be quiet, not pouting like a child.” Snorting, Ry unscrewed the top to his flask and brought it to his lips. Jamie yanked it from him, and recapped it. “No. No more drinking. We are having sex.”

  “Have I ever let you down before?” The question was as loaded as Ryder was. She heard his implication loud and clear, she was the fuck up in their relationship, not him.

  Brushing off the slight, she retorted, “There’s a first time for everything, and the way you’re throwing back the Fireball, I’d say there’s a good chance I won’t be getting my birthday wish.”

  The driver made a sharp turn causing Ryder to fall over onto Jamie. He pushed her on her back, and his body hung inches above hers. He reeked of whiskey and radiated heat. “I can give it to you now.” His voice was gruff. She couldn’t see his face in the darkness but she could hear his intention. Their sex that night wouldn’t be sweet or loving or have any of the normal soul searing intensity. It was going to be angry and raw. He was going to fuck her like she was the enemy, like he hated her.

  “Please,” she moaned, writhing underneath him. It didn’t matter that they were in the back of an Uber. It didn’t matter that CT and Javi were right there, she wanted it. She wanted him, anyway she could get him.

  “Kitty Cat,” he growled, shifting so their pelvises aligned. “Do you feel that?” he asked, referring to the rock-hard erection desperately trying to escape the confines of his jeans. “Do you feel what you do to me? Even when you piss me off, you turn me on.”

  “You are mad,” she accused. Her hands fisted in his hair and she pulled him down, tasting his lips. Ryder popped the button on her shorts, and did his best to drag them down her legs. He only made it about half way. The limited space in the back seat hindered him. It was the one time she wished she wore a damn dress.

  Ryder pulled her upright, her shorts and underwear around her thighs. He reached for the flask, drained the remaining contents, then wrapped one arm around her. “Be quiet,” he warned. His fingers swirled around her opening. Jamie tried to pull her legs further apart but her shorts restricted her movements.

  The car drove on, speeding down the empty streets. CT and Javi’s voices muffled the moans she desperately tried to swallow as Ryder’s fingers pumped in and out of her body. He kept a steady pace, just enough to drive her crazy, but not enough to push her over the edge. “Please, it’s my birthday,” she begged.

  “You’re too loud when you come, Kitty Cat. No one gets to hear you but me.”

  “They aren’t paying any attention to us.” She lifted her ass, desperate to push her shorts down further. In that lust fueled moment, Jamie didn’t give a fuck who heard her.

  Sliding his fingers out of her core, he brought them to her lips. Jamie made a show of sucking off her juices, her tongue darting between his fingers, as she licked them clean. “Please,” she said again. She wasn’t above begging.

  “You want to sit on my dick?” he asked
.

  Jamie nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

  “Please don’t. That would just make things awkward,” Javi said. He didn’t turn around, but Jamie could hear the smile in his voice.

  Ryder laughed, it sounded like a dog barking. CT and Javi quickly followed suit and Jamie tugged her shorts up in annoyance. “I’m glad you all think this is funny,” she pouted. She was horny and surrounded by drunk idiots.

  “We’re almost there,” Kitty Cat. Ryder whispered, his warm breath sent a chill down her spine. An erotic promise hidden beneath his words.

  “What are you doing down here?” CT asked around a fork full of pie. “I thought I’d need ear plugs after all the foreplay in the car.”

  Jamie rolled her eyes, and stomped across the kitchen. She pulled open the drawer and grabbed a fork of her own. “Your friend is a drunk idiot,” she grumbled, plopping her ass down in the seat next to the drummer.

  “Don’t tell me he caught a case of whiskey dick?”

  “No, I wish, because at least then, he could finger me or I could ride his face or something, but nooooo, he had to get sick.” She sounded like a brat, but it was her birthday and she asked him to slow down on the drinking. Now, instead of birthday sex with Ryder, she was having pie with CT.

  Stabbing her fork into the dessert, she brought it to her mouth. Diner pie was the only thing that could salvage her night. “What the fuck is this?” she mumbled, unsure of weather to spit or swallow.

  “Oh, I know. Shit’s trash but your dickhead boyfriend put a moratorium on the diner. It’s from a bakery in Bellevue, double the price and not half as good,” CT shrugged.

  “Bellevue?” Jamie asked, dropping her fork. Bellevue pie wasn’t worth the calories.

  “I was visiting my folks, so I was high.”

  “Naturally,” she nodded.

  “I saw it and stopped. I spent a hundred and fifty dollars on baked goods. Never go to a bakery loaded,” he warned.