Captured Love (23 page)

“Jessica Hayes.”

My heart stopped for a long moment.

“She did what?”

“I thought she had gone away.”

“She did, but she’s back for the summer.”

“Oh. Well, by the looks of it, she still cares about you. A lot, because she made a good case of how you deserved a second chance. Her arguments were so good, I couldn’t say no.”

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I took a long breath. Fuck, one more thing Jessica had done for me. One more wrong she had righted. By the end of summer, I would be owing her my life.

“What now?”

“Now you be a good boy and finish your parole with outstanding behavior. Meanwhile, we’ll practice. I’ll call you again in a few days to set up details. Sound good?”

“It sure does.”

“Good. Take care, Ryan.”

I ended the call and stared at the phone.

***

After the kiss on Wednesday, I shouldn’t have gone to Habitat for Humanity on Thursday. Being there with Ryan was painful.

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So, when Friday came, I told Jason and Mama that I wasn’t feeling well and stayed home.

In the afternoon, I walked to the hospital and stayed in my father’s room for an hour or so. Mainly, I watched him sleep and sketched the details of the room, wondering if we would ever set things right between us before I left. Or before he died.

That night, I let Sophie and Rachel take me to a small bar downtown called The Pub, one block from Ryan’s apartment. At first I thought about declining their invitation, but knowing Ryan was working late again, I was sure he wouldn’t come. It would be a fun girls’ night out. I even dressed up a little, with a not-so-short-and-modest-cleavage black dress that hugged my body. I put on my three-inch black pumps, applied a little more makeup than I was used to, and blow-dried my hair until it was smooth and shiny down my back.

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As I walked out of the house and to her car, Sophie whistled.

“Who are you and what have you done with our friend?” Rachel asked.

“What?” I slid in the backseat of Rachel’s car. “I’m tired of trying to dress down so I don’t catch unwanted attention.

I’m leaving in less than two weeks, and I want to feel good. This is how I dress when I go out.”

“I approve,” Sophie said, turning to look at me. She wore a black skirt and a pink blouse.

Rachel sported cropped black leggings and a zebra stamped corset-like top. Good to know they had dressed up too.

Rachel was able to park one block from The Pub. The facade had changed a little since I had last been here, but the inside was the same. A large oval bar in the center, lots of stools around it, tables and chairs spread across the floor, a few booths along the walls, 397/504

low lighting casting a shadowy glow, a rock ballad coming from speakers on the ceiling, and to the far left, pool and foosball tables.

The girls and I weaved our way to the back, saying hi to known faces, and sat at an empty table between the bar and the game tables. A waiter came and took our order: three beers and a large portion of French fries.

“Ready to go back to Cleveland?” Rachel asked.

I sighed. “I think so. Though Papa and I haven’t really talked yet.”

“How is he?” Sophie asked.

The waiter came back with our drinks. I waited until he was gone to answer.

“Not doing well. I stopped by the hospital this afternoon. He still sleeps most of the time, and the nurse told me that when he’s awake, he complains of pain.” Rachel placed her hand on mine. “I’m so sorry.”

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I slipped my hand from under hers, and held my beer. “It’s okay.” I took a long swallow and changed the subject. “You two ready to go back to classes?”

Sophie scrunched her nose. “Ugh, not really.”

“Why not?”

“Because she hates economics,” Rachel said.

“Wait, then why are you studying that?”

“Long story,” Sophie mumbled.

“Because her father wants to leave the company to her,” Rachel explained. “He has this detailed plan. In two years, she’ll graduate, then go for an MBA, work for him for another five years to make sure she knows everything, and then he’ll retire.” Sophie tsked. “Not retire. He’ll be my consultant.”

Rachel snorted. “From the Bahamas, Hawaii, or Cancun.”

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Sophie grunted. “Can we change the subject?”

Rachel looked over my head. “How about we talk about guys?”

I followed her gaze. Jason, Luke, Ryan, Ethan, and a guy I didn’t know entered the bar. They saw us and made their way to our table.

“Hey, ladies,” Jason said, standing behind my chair. His hands landed on my shoulders.

Everyone

greeted

everyone.

The

stranger stared at me with curiosity in his eyes.

Luke noticed. “Gabe, this is Jessica, Jason’s sister. Jess, this is Gabe. He’s from Charlotte, but sometimes comes down to hang out with us.”

“Nice to meet you,” Gabe said, shaking my hand. Like the others, he wore a black leather jacket, jeans, and boots. They might 400/504

not be a motorcycle club, but they certainly could’ve fooled me.

I withdrew my hand. “Likewise.” On their own accord, my eyes shifted to the guy standing beside him. Ryan had a frown on his face and his neck muscles looked strained.

He nodded at me before turning to the others. “I’m gonna see if I can find a free pool table.”

“I’ll go with you,” Ethan said.

Both of them walked around us, to the corner with all the tables.

“They found one,” Gabe said. Without another word or glance, he strolled away from our table.

I patted Jason’s hand. “So, what’s your motorcycle club’s name?”

He chuckled. “Right, because that’s our thing.”

“You guys play the part well,” Sophie said.

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“First we need to switch our street bikes for cruisers,” Luke said.

Rachel waved her hand in dismissal.

“Small detail.”

Laughing, Jason and Luke left us to join their friends at the pool table. When I looked at them, I found Ryan staring at me while setting the pool table. He averted his gaze.

“That’s it,” I announced. “I need something stronger.”

I called the waiter and asked for a shot of tequila. For some reason, the girls asked for one for each of them too. In less than two minutes, we were toasting with our tequilas.

“To a fun girls’ night out,” Sophie said.

Rachel and I repeated Sophie’s words, but I was starting to believe that it wouldn’t be that easy. I downed the shot, savoring the burn in my throat, willing it to take the pain, the hurt, the frustration, and the anger away.

As I set my glass down, Rachel handed me her cell phone. “I would ask someone else 402/504

to take a picture of the three of us, but since I know you’ll say no, can you take one of Sophie and me?”

An uneasy feeling revolved in my stomach. “Sure,” I said, though my hands began to shake.

Noticing my discomfort, Rachel nodded at me. If I analyzed this too much, I would think she was asking me to take a picture—again—to help me with my trauma. So far, I couldn’t say it was helping, but who knew? Maybe after she had me take about a hundred, I would be over it.

I raised the phone between us and fit them both on the screen. They looked so great, so happy, and they would probably post that picture everywhere with a ‘what a great night with my bestie’ caption, and I wouldn’t be in it. Jealousy stirred in my chest, quickly followed by anger. Anger for not being over this fucked-up trauma.

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I snapped the picture and returned the phone to Rachel before I threw it at the wall, as if it was responsible for my hang-ups.

“Thanks,” Rachel said.

Beside her, Sophie lost her smile and her eyes went wide. “Uh-oh,” she said.

“What?” I snapped my head back and saw what she meant.

Caryn strutted into the bar with two other girls. They all dressed similarly: a short, too tight dress, with their breasts almost spilling from the ample cleavage, hooker heels, and too much makeup.

Without faltering, Caryn weaved back to the pool tables and halted beside Ryan, putting her arm on his back. Nausea rolled in my stomach. Ryan stepped to the side. They were talking. What would I give to be a fly right now?

What was I thinking? I shook my head and tried to focus on my friends.

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“I swear, she has a where-is-Ryan sensor,” Rachel said. “She’s always where he is.”

A force pulled me, and I dared to glance at them again. Ryan took a shot with Caryn right by his side. As he stepped back from the table, she put her hand on his arm. He jerked his arm away, but turned to talk to her.

I lowered my eyes, unsure I could watch anymore. The waiter passed us, and I asked for another shot of tequila.

“Easy on those,” Sophie said.

“I just need to take the edge off,” I complained.

The girls tried to keep my mind off the pool corner by telling me about their colleges, the cute guys, the parties, and things like that. I swear, I wanted to give them one hundred percent of my attention, but I was only half-listening. The other half of my 405/504

brain was battling between spying on Ryan and Caryn, or not.

It shouldn’t matter. I was leaving in ten days. Soon, this town would be behind me. I would move on and forget about this summer. What Ryan did was none of my business. He could get together with whomever he wanted. I had done all I could to help him, and I hoped it had helped, because it certainly had helped me. My conscious was clean.

I was so into my thoughts, I didn’t see the guys approaching with chairs until they were all seated around our table with us.

Thankfully, Jason sat on my left and Luke sat on my right. Ryan sat between Luke and Sophie.

And where was Caryn? I looked around and met her fuming gaze. She was beside the pool table, her arms crossed and her evil eyes on me.

Whatever.

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The group engaged in conversation. It was nice to see they all were friends and got along well. I felt like an extra piece of the game, one that could be tossed aside and wouldn’t be missed. The worst part was that I had been the one to toss myself aside in the first place, and now I found it hard to fit again.

I glanced at Ryan. Like me, he was quiet too, only interjecting when necessary. Every so often, he looked at me. This time, his eyes looked up from me and around. I didn’t need to follow his gaze to know he was looking at Caryn. She made her presence known when she strolled behind me and sat down at the table beside ours.

Damn.

The waiter came for another round of beer, and a Coke for Ryan, and I asked for another tequila. Sophie and Rachel shot me worried glances, but I didn’t care. This was too much. I would drink until the edge was 407/504

off, and I didn’t care about Ryan and Caryn, or I would leave. Knowing they would ask me to stay, I went with my tequila.

I confess that after three shots of tequila, my mood improved. Or maybe it was the cloud muffling everything in my brain. It didn’t matter. At least I wasn’t about to claw Caryn’s eyes out anymore.

When I realized, Luke and Ethan were gone. I scanned the room and found Luke by the bar, talking to a girl, and Ethan was playing pool again.

Ryan took Luke’s seat. “Hey.”

I nodded. “Hey, yourself.”

“I didn’t see you at the site today.”

“Yeah, I had stuff to do.” I picked at my nails, staring at them as if they were the most interesting thing in the room.

“I see.” He leaned forward, bringing his torso an inch or two closer to me.

I leaned back in my chair, keeping some distance. “Everything all right today?” 408/504

“Yes, yes. Things are going well. In fact, I need to talk to you about it.” He ran a hand through his hair, pushing the bangs away from his eyes, but they fell back a moment later. “I want to th—”

“Ryan!” Caryn shouted. She scooted between Ryan’s chair and mine. “There you are, baby. I was thinking about our conversation earlier—”

“Caryn,” Ryan said.

“—and I don’t agree with you. I think—”

“Caryn,” he repeated through gritted teeth.

“—I may have something to convince you otherwise.” She slid her hands down her waist to her hips and shifted her weight, pushing her ass back and forth.

I put a hand on my stomach, certain that I would be sick.

“Caryn,” Ryan tried again.

“Oh, here.” She offered him a closed bottle of beer. “You can drink while we
talk
.” 409/504

He stared at the bottle, probably shocked by her stupidity. Or he really wanted a sip.

I couldn’t witness this. I stood and bumped my arm into Caryn’s back.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, stepping away.

“Sorry?” she asked. “Look at me when you apologize, bitch.”

I let the alcohol in my veins win and turned to look at her with a half-grin. “I only see one bitch in this bar, Caryn, and I’m certain it isn’t me.”

“Is that so?” She dropped the bottle on the table and took a step toward me. “Then why have you been after Ryan like a lost puppy?”

Ryan stood. “Caryn, enough.”

“I’m after him like a lost puppy? Really?

You’re the one who is always all over him, even when it’s obvious he wants to be far from you.”

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“That’s what you tell yourself, so it won’t hurt as much.”

“You’re delirious.”

Jason stood too. “Jess, ignore her.”

“No,

princess,”

Caryn

continued.

“You’re the one deluding yourself here. Do whatever you want to have him at your feet.

In the end, you’ll leave and I’ll be here to pick up the pieces, to put him back together.”

“Caryn,” Ryan said, a snarl in his voice.

“Drop it.”

“What? It’s the truth. She comes in here all self-righteous. At first, she’s mad at the world. Then when the world doesn’t give a shit, she changes tactics and goes after you.”

“Caryn, shut up,” I hissed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“What, bitch? Did I say something that wasn’t the truth?”

I clenched my fists. “Call me bitch one more time …”