Ryker (The Powers That Be Book 4)

BOOK: Ryker (The Powers That Be Book 4)
5.82Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ryker

 

The Powers That Be

Book 4

 

 

Harper Bentley

Copyright © 2015 Harper Bentley

 

Digital Edition: December 2015

 

Editors: Franca, Mel & Sam

 

Cover image licensed by www.shutterstock.com

 

Cover Photo design by Jada D’Lee Designs

 

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locations is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior express, written consent of the author

 

Dedication

To anyone who’s ever

had their heart broken

Hang in there, lovely

You never know what’s

just around the corner!

1—Dual Meet

 

“I’m a whore.”

Silence.

“I’m a big, humongous slut,” I groaned into my phone.

Finally an answer. “No, you’re not,” my best friend Sharee Leppart assured with a sleepy chuckle.

“I am,” I said with conviction. “I’m also a skank.”

“Frankie, it’s not that big a deal.”

“I’m a total hussy. A floozy. An absolute bimbo. A
whore!”
I dropped my head against the steering wheel and closed my eyes.

“Look, practically everyone’s had a one-night stand.”

“Not me,” I whispered. I heard her sigh before I added, “And not with the man of their dreams and all the while thinking it was special.”

God. What the hell had I been thinking? God!

              I’d waited two years for him.
Two years.

              And it finally happened.

I’d finally had him.

And it had been everything I thought it’d be and more.

He’d kissed me like I’d never been kissed before.

Then he’d made love to me as if I’d been the most precious thing he’d ever held in his arms.

He’d lain next to me afterward still holding me as we drifted off, his lips at my temple giving me sweet kisses.

We’d awakened a few hours later and he’d fucked me. Hard.

It was hot.

It was dirty.

He’d given me so many orgasms I lost count.

And I loved it, every last minute of it.

It was everything I knew it’d be.

And I’d been completely and utterly happy.

Afterward my bubble had burst.

“Thanks, darlin’. That was great. Gonna get a beer then I’ve gotta get some sleep. Leave your number on the fridge. I’ll give you a call.”

No temple kiss.

No squeeze of his arms.

Nothing.

I’d been dismissed.

Just… like… that.

He’d gotten out of bed and I’d stared at him in all his naked glory. When he’d turned his back to me to pull a pair of boxer briefs from his dresser, I’d found myself gaping at the tattoo emblazoned across his back, the one I’d always wanted to get a closer look at. And what I’d seen was a very scary grinning Grim Reaper. I’d studied the art for a moment seeing that there were two dead gladiators lying at the Reaper’s feet, their faces skeletons like the Reaper’s (yeesh), and he was battling yet another warrior whose face was just as scary and skeletal and intense as his.

I’d looked away and swallowed roughly, my throat hurting as I tried to keep the tears from coming. After he’d left, I’d gotten out of bed, dressed and slunk my way the hell out of his room, out of his house and into my car, not wanting to be noticed by anyone and
not
leaving my number.

Now I was in my car at five-thirty a.m. talking to Sharee.

“Where are you?” she asked.

“Parked on the street in front of his house after having just taken the walk of shame.”

She snorted. “It wasn’t a walk of shame. It was a walk of awesome, Frankie! You finally nailed Ryker Powers! You’ve wanted him forever!”

I sat back staring out at the rainy almost-dawn watching the rain sliding in rivulets down my windshield.

She just didn’t understand.

I choked on a sob. “Ree, you don’t get it. That’s the father of my future children probably lying asleep in there right now after having fucked my brains out all night long! We’re supposed to get married, have three children—two boys and a girl, the boys older than the girl so they can protect their sister of course—and then we’re gonna grow old together!” My voice caught but I kept going. “And I’ve screwed it all up by jumping the gun! We were supposed to have a meet cute like in the old movies! Like, run into each other at a coffee shop and both grab for the sugar at the same time. After that we’d trade numbers and flirt for, like, a week. I’d lure him in with my womanly wiles and fabulous personality until he knew I was
the one
! After, we’d go on lots of amazing dates until he finally proposed at the top of the Great Wheel and I’d scream, ‘Yes!’ so loudly everyone on the ground would hear me and congratulate us when we got off it!” I sucked in several breaths before whispering, “Oh, my God. What have I done?” I dropped my head into my hand knowing I’d messed up royally.

“Come home, Frankie.”

She sounded a little put out which I’m sure she was. She was a realist. I was a dreamer. That’s why we were best friends, opposites attracting and all that. But I guess I’d pushed her too far this time.

My head came up and I wiped away the tears that were the result of a dream lost. “All right,” I mumbled as I put my Camry in drive. “You want me to pick up pastries?” I sniffed.

“Definitely.”

Pulling away from the cute little house where inside my dream future had died, I wiped away a few more tears that had somehow slipped by without my notice and drove off into the gray and dreary morning.

~*~*~*~

After stopping by The Breakfast Nook to pick up the best pastries in all of Seattle, I headed back to Sharee and my apartment that was near Hallervan’s campus, the college I’d be starting second semester tomorrow. It was my last semester since I was set to graduate in May with a degree in secondary English education with a minor in PE.

Last night’s party had been sort of a last hurrah for me before I got really serious about my career. When Ciara and Madison, friends from the basketball team, had called yesterday afternoon telling me I was going with them, that I had no choice and they’d be by at eight, I’d thought, what the hell.  Sharee had had to go to her older sister’s wedding and I would’ve spent the evening alone, so I’d made myself up and followed the girls to the party.

Once there, I’d had a blast, getting to hang out with friends I hadn’t seen in some time. And it was when I’d been in the backyard watching Ci and Mad own a couple football players at beer pong that I’d seen Ryker staring at me intensely from the patio and my breath had caught. He’d smiled at my wide-eyed look and headed my way. No, prowled was more like it, his long, powerful legs eating up the space between us like it’d been nothing, and, dear God, it’d been a sight to see.

When he made it to me, he’d told me I was the most beautiful girl there, which had made me all melty inside that he’d think that (the alcohol hadn’t helped me see a pickup line when it’d been thrown right in my face). We’d talked for a bit about his wrestling and when he’d asked if I wanted to go somewhere quiet to talk, I’d jumped at the chance. Of course, we’d ended up in his room and all talking had ceased since our mouths had been perpetually fused from the moment we entered it, and I’d been thrilled, knowing my perfect future had been about to begin.

Now as I pulled into the complex, I sighed knowing I’d screwed with fate last night. From the way he’d treated me just now, I knew that Ryker had probably thought I was a Ring Rat, girls that hung around wrestlers just wanting to sleep with them (and since there’d been tons of them at his party, why wouldn’t he?), and not someone he’d consider to be his future wife.

And that hurt.

“Hello, Francesca!” Mrs. Bertolini hollered from her patio which was above Sharee and my apartment. She came out every morning at seven in the dusty brown robe that had been her husband’s, to have her cup of coffee and smoke two Pall Malls before starting her day as the director of arts and crafts at the senior center downtown. She herself was eighty-two but still as spry as a spring chicken in all her five-foot-two, ninety-pound glory, and I guess she kept those seniors on their toes because I’d seen some of their artwork displayed at various restaurants in Seattle and even around campus. She’d been a fairly good artist and sculptor in her day, had even taught classes at UDub, but arthritis had gotten to her hands so she’d had to stop. She’d lived above us the three years we’d been there, having moved in after her husband had passed, and was as sweet as could be. She didn’t meddle but she did have an uncanny knack of knowing exactly what was going on with us. It was sometimes spooky how much she seemed to know, so much so that Sharee and I started thinking maybe she’d had a camera installed in our apartment and that’s where she got her information. But her advice was usually spot-on (whether we decided to take it or not) which still wasn’t any less eerie.

“Hi, Mrs. Bertolini,” I said forcing a smile and giving her a small wave.

She narrowed her always-alert electric blue eyes at me sensing something was wrong. “Bad night?”

I shrugged as I shaded my eyes as I looked up at her. “Actually, great night. Bad morning.”

She nodded like she understood which was ridiculous. “Aha.”

“I’ve got some Breakfast Nook pastries. Would you like me to bring you any?” I called up.

“No, dear. You and Sharee enjoy.”

“All right. See you later,” I said as I started walking toward the hallway where my apartment and the elevator she used were.

“Gotta play it smart if you want his eyes to open,” I heard her holler after me and I stopped for a beat before resuming my trek.

“She’s eighty-two. How could she know?” I mumbled to myself with a frown thinking she was either psychic or just plain nuts. I decided I’d go with the latter for today and went inside to console myself with a few sugary pastries.

~*~*~*~

“So, you gonna do it?” Sharee asked that night after we’d had dinner and were now watching some shitty reality TV show.

I glanced at her from where I lay on the couch. “Why should I?”

She threw her legs over the side of the chair and a half she was sitting in to face me. “Because he needs to know.  And for your children’s future.”

I gave her a pointed look. “He probably won’t remember me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Frankie. It was just this morning. He so will.”

I looked at the TV for a moment before cutting my eyes back to her. “What am I supposed to do? Show up there and be like, ‘Oh, hey, Ryker. I’m the chick you fucked all night long Saturday. Remember? So… wanna go out with me?’”

“Yes! Exactly that! Go to his house tomorrow morning before class and talk to him. Invite him to coffee or something. He’ll see what a wonderful woman you are and fall madly in love with you. Then you can do the whole marriage, kids, future shit.” She threw a hand out flippantly and scrunched up her face as she looked back at the idiot family on TV fawning over the pregnant daughter as if she was the first woman in the history of mankind to ever carry a child. But that wasn’t why my roomie had gotten that look. No, it was that she’d just gone through a bad breakup and was a little down on love right now, so her giving me advice wasn’t her favorite thing to do right now, which made me appreciate it more that she had.

“All right. I’ll do it. But if I get embarrassed in any way, you’re so taking me for drinks at O’Leary’s tomorrow night after my class.”

“Done,” she mumbled, her focus back on the TV.

I turned back also but my mind was on the next morning wondering if I should really go through with it. Oh, well, what could it hurt if I went by Ryker’s house? All he could say was no and my future with him would remain as bleak as it was now.

No big deal.

Other books

Mil Soles Esplendidos by Hosseini Khaled
Razorhurst by Justine Larbalestier
The White Princess by Philippa Gregory
Raging Heat by Richard Castle
Cassie by Barry Jonsberg
Apache Flame by Madeline Baker
Worth the Risk by Robin Bielman
An Astronaut's Life by Sonja Dechian