Lucky Strike (5 page)

I hear the line go dead and quickly press
call back
on my phone, but it just rings and rings. I know it was Lucky. It was her, and I know if I could just talk to her I could convince her to come home. I try the number again “Come on Lucky… answer,” I say through gritted teeth. Again it just rings and rings, until the annoying computerized voice tells me, not only is Lucky not responding, but I can’t even leave a voice message.

“God damn it!” I scream. In my rage, I launch my phone across the dark living room and into the chest of my best friend, Brian.

“What the fuck, Ryder?” he snarls, throwing my phone back to me.

“I’m sorry, man.” I slump back down onto the couch, resting my hands over my eyes.

“What was that all about?” Brian walks over to his liquor cabinet and grabs a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. He sets them on the coffee table in front of me then joins me on the couch and pours us each a glass.

“Lucky called me.” I grab the glass from his hand and down the amber liquor in one long gulp. “She didn’t say anything, but I know it was her.”

“Oh shit!” He grabs my phone and looks at the last number dialed. “This is a San Diego area code. She’s in California.”

“Are you fucking sure?”

“I’m positive. This is definitely a San Diego area code. She must’ve gotten a new phone,” he reassures me, handing me my phone back.

This is the first serious lead I’ve gotten on Lucky’s whereabouts. If she really is in California, I need to go find her. I can’t let her slip through my fingers again.

“I need to go after her. I have to get to San Diego.”

“Ryder, if she’s on the run, by the time you get there she could be gone again.”

“Brian, I can’t just fucking sit here and do nothing. You of all people can’t sit here and tell me not to go after the woman I love,” I snap back.

“That’s not what I’m saying. I just think if you want to find her you have to be smart about it. Her phone probably has GPS. I can make a phone call to the phone company and they can get a trace on where she is and where she’s going.”

“Brian you could get fired for doing that without probable cause. I can’t let you risk losing your job. Being a detective has been your dream since we were kids. I can’t let you do that.”

He shrugs his shoulders. “I can say she’s a suspect that we need to bring in for questioning, and hell, if it leads to you getting Lucky back, then it’ll be worth it.”

This better fucking work. I don’t think I could survive the added guilt of causing my best friend, my brother, to lose his job because I didn’t have the balls to go after Lucky that night in the club.

An hour later I’m pacing nervously in Brian’s kitchen waiting for word on Lucky. Brian’s sitting at the bar calmly talking to the customer service manager. Turning on the Gamble charm, in an attempt to get her to bend the rules to gain access to the GPS on Lucky’s cell phone. He looks up and motions for me to grab him a pen and paper. I look frantically through the drawers to find them. Finally, I find some and slide them across the bar to Brian. He jots down what looks like an address.

“Thank you so much for all your help, Amanda. The Seattle Police Department greatly appreciates what you’ve done.”

That smooth talking son of a bitch did it.

“Looks like we need to get your ass on a plane. Lucky’s at a hotel just outside San Diego. If you leave now, you can be there in a few hours.” He tosses me the notepad. I stare down at the scribbled address.

Brian found her.

He fucking found her.

And in just a few short hours, she’ll be mine again.

I bolt for the stairs to the guest room. Grabbing my duffel bag from the closet I frantically stuff in a change of clothes and my deodorant, then race back downstairs where Brian is waiting to drive me to the airport.

Brooke gives me a hug goodbye and whispers, “Go get your girl.”

A half an hour later Brian parks the car in the departure drop-off at the airport. Before I grab my bag from the backseat, I turn to Brian one last time.

“Thank you again… for everything. For bailing me out of jail… for taking me into your home… and for helping me find Lucky.”

“I know you would’ve done the same thing for me. I was just doing my job as your best friend.” He grins, patting me on the back. He’s been saving my ass far more than I have his. I owe him so much that it would take an eternity to pay him back.

“You better get a move on, or you’ll miss your plane.”

I grab my bag and climb out of the car, giving Brian one last wave goodbye as he drives away.

Thankfully the airport is pretty dead, makes my trip through security less of a hassle. I make way down the long corridor of airline gates and shops to gate A-13. Lucky thirteen, let’s hope thirteen brings me some luck.

I arrive at the gate just in the nick of time. The flight has begun boarding. The ticket agent scans my ticket then politely tells me to have a pleasant flight. Once onboard the plane I find my window just behind the wing. While the rest of the passengers board the plane, I sit quietly staring out the window, mind already playing out the possible scenarios of what I’ll say once I see Lucky’s face again. But I know, no matter how many different scenarios I come up with, they won’t matter once I see her because all I will want to do is pull her into my arms and beg her to come home.

Lying in bed I stare up at the ceiling watching the lights from the passing cars on the highway dancing across the darkness. The hard, unforgiving hotel mattress making sleep next to impossible, but considering how loud my mind is talking, sleep was never going to be a possibility.

Turning onto my side, my eyes meet the alarm clock sitting on the bedside table.
One-forty-one
in the morning. I stare at the bright red numbers waiting for the next minute to tick by. I can already hear the ghosts coming for me. The soft whispers growing louder and louder. The words,
“I will always love you, Lucky,”
cutting into me like a double-edged sword.

The moment the one flicks over to a two, I hear a gentle knock on my door. My heart leaps into my throat. I nervously pull the sheets tighter around me.

Shit! Did Jackson manage to find me?

It can’t possibly be Jackson. I’m at least a day ahead of him, and I switched phones before checking into the hotel. So there was no way he could have found me that way. Maybe someone just has the wrong room and they’ll go away in a minute. But there’s another knock and, this time, it’s followed up by a familiar voice.

“Lucky, open up, it’s Ryder.”

At first, I think it’s just my imagination playing tricks on me, but I hear his voice again. I pull back the sheets, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, and resting my feet on the thick carpet. Trying to will myself to get up and walk over to the door, my feet feel like they’re made of cement. My mind wondering how Ryder even found me. I take a deep breath then force myself up, taking slow, quiet steps toward the door. Bracing my hands against the door, I lean in to look out the peephole. I have to fight back the tears as I take him in. He still looks the same. His hair slightly longer and a little messier. His strong jaw flecked with stubble and his eyes, his deep piercing gray eyes that look like the ocean after a storm, his eyes that were full of sadness the last time I gazed upon them are now full of hope. Hope that I will open this door.

“Please, open the door,” he pleads.

My hand hovers over the gold chain. Time standing still as I slide the chain across. The sound of the deadbolt clicking open echoes through the quiet room. My nervous hand shaking as I reach for the door knob. Heart beating wildly in my chest. I don’t even know what I’m going to say when I open this door, or if I’ll even be able to look him in the eye.

The door opens with a creak. The moment Ryder comes into full view I collapse into his arms.

My eyes flutter open. I can feel the heat of Ryder’s body behind me and the weight of his arm draped over me. The first thing my blurry eyes focus on is the four leaf clover tattoo on his forearm. I trace the pad of my finger lightly over the
L
etched onto the fourth petal. I can’t believe after everything he never got it covered up.

The last thing I remember before passing out was sobbing into Ryder’s chest telling him sorry over and over again while he just held me in his arms not saying a single word. Just letting me get all the emotions I’d locked away for so long come flowing out. Now, I feel utterly exhausted and emotionally drained.

Ryder begins to stir, his arm wrapping around me, pulling me tighter against him. Like he was trying to make sure I can’t escape again. I’m not going anywhere. At least not until we talk. As hard as it is for me to deal with my feelings and my emotions, I owe him a reason why I left.

“Good morning,” he softly whispers.

I turn in his arms meeting his sleepy gaze. His crooked smile on full display and he’s acting as if nothing’s happened between us.

“Ryder, what are you doing here? How did you even find me?”

“What? No good morning. No thanks for holding me while I drenched your shirt in tears.”

I push his smartass away from me. “For fuck’s sake, Ryder, just tell me how the hell you found me?” I snarl back.

“After you called me, and yes I knew it was you, Brian was able to work his charm and his new detective skills on the cell company to get them to use the GPS on your phone to track you. I wasn’t about to let you slip through my fingers again, so I got on a plane and here I am. I came to bring you home, Lucky.”

Here come the tears again. I wish there were a shut-off valve for these damn things. I’ve cried more in the last twenty-four hours than I’ve done in my entire life.

I can’t believe he dropped everything to come here for me.
“Ryder, why would you do that?”

“Because I love you, Lucky. I wish I could say I regret what happened that night in the club. Or that I would take back everything I said to you. But I don’t regret any of it. The only regret I have is that I let you go. I love you Lucky, and I want you to come back home.” He cups my cheek, gently wiping my tears with his thumb.

“How can you still love me after I walked out on you after I basically threw you away?” Out of all the possible scenarios I’d run through my mind of how this conversation would go, I never imagined it would go like this. That Ryder would still want me after the way I treated him.

“I will never stop loving you, Lucky. They could rip you from my bones. From my soul, and I would still love only
you.
” He looks into my eyes with such adoration and sincerity. I can almost feel his love for me radiating from his body. “You’re my girl, Lucky. You have been since that day on the playground, and you’ll always be mine. My lucky strike. My lucky clover. My Lucky.”

I’ve always hated it when Jackson tried to claim me like I was his fucking property. That he somehow owned me. It pissed me off because no man owns me. Hearing Ryder call me his, is making me think that the reason why I hated it so much before was because I’m supposed to be Ryder’s girl and he’s supposed to be mine. I lean in closing the space between us.

“The reason why I’m here is because I was on my way home to you. To tell you that I’m sorry and that I love you.” As much as I wanted to fight it. I so desperately wanted to keep him at a safe distance so as to not lose the one person who means the most to me in this world. But all the pushing and denial almost cost me Ryder, and I can’t do that anymore. “I love you, Ryder Callahan.”

I cup his face in my hands. Placing a tender kiss on his perfect full lips.

“You’re not going to run away from me again, are you?” he whispers against my lips.

“No more running.”