Loving Enough (The Enough Series Book 2) (10 page)

Rylee

Ruzek comes strolling into the room with a cat ate the
canary grin on his face. His short blond hair is styled in that messy way and
his dark green eyes are alight with pleasure. He is dressed in his usual casual
wear of dark jeans, form-fitting gray t-shirt and black work boots.

I look at him and he smiles triumphantly.

“So what has you so chipper this morning, Detective?” I ask
with a hint of playful sarcasm.

He ignores my question and looks to J. “How are you feeling
today, Mr. Ash?”

J answers with the perfunctory, “I’m all right. Been better,
but could be worse.”

Ruzek moves the chair from next to J’s bed over between us
so he can easily see us both. Then he seems to think better of it.

“Oh sorry, do you mind if I move this?”

We chuckle. “No, by all means go ahead.”

He seems embarrassed by his obvious comfort level with us,
but takes a seat after closing the door to the room. He leans back and crosses
one leg over the other in what feels like an attempt to stall before he finally
breaks the strange silence in the room.

“So would you guys rather have the good news, or the not so
good news first?”

He gives me a small wink and I am not sure what to make of it.
I say, “Not so good” at the same time J says, “Good news, please.”

He looks to us both and I nod, giving J the priority here. He
is in a hospital bed after all. “OK, so the good news is that Austin had an
idea.”

OK, I am sure that happens from time to time, but I fail to
see how that qualifies as good news. Then Ruzek stands up and pulls two brand
new smartphones from his back pocket.

“Here you are, Rylee, and here you go, Mr. Ash,” he says as
he passes them across the room.

J looks at me in confusion before speaking up, as if I have
the answer to the mystery prizes.

“One, please stop calling me Mr. Ash. If you can call her
Rylee, then you can call me Jeremy.” Ruzek nods. “Two, what do new cell phones
have to do with Austin and good news?”

Ruzek sits back down before he explains. “As you both know,
we are trying to limit communication between the three of you in an effort to
figure out where Rylee’s stalker is getting his information. Austin called me
yesterday from an unknown number to see if you guys could use burner phones to
keep in contact with one another.”

I silently wonder what number Austin could have called from,
but I guess it could be his mom or sister’s cell number. Really, I couldn't
care less. The truth is I am ecstatic I will finally get to talk to him. I look
expectantly at Ruzek.

“So this means I can talk to Austin,” I say with an absurd
amount of giddiness in my voice.
Goodnight Rylee, stop acting like a teenage
girl with your first crush – it’s embarrassing
.

Ruzek eyes me with humor in his eyes. “Yes, this means you
can call him when we are done here.”

 I suddenly feel like I am receiving permission to talk on
the phone from my parents, not that I have any idea what that would feel like.
Our parents never knew what we were doing, or even cared for that matter.
Either way, I am excited. I hold the phone in my hand and swipe to unlock the
screen, only to see a picture of Austin and me staring back. Now I really can’t
help the girly smile on my face. Ruzek notices my reaction with a slight shake
of the head.

“There are a few rules to go with these phones,” he tells
us. “You cannot talk to anyone on them, text or otherwise, besides each other,
Austin and myself.”

He stops to assess our reactions. J looks confounded by the
development and I couldn’t care less. I would agree to just about anything to
be able to talk to Austin at this point. Convinced we are onboard with rule one,
he continues.

“You will need to keep your other phones active for all other
communications and you cannot use the new phones inside Rylee’s house. As far
as we know, J, your house should be fine, but we will run a sweep before you go
home. Oh, and do not use them in any of Rylee’s vehicles, and that includes any
of yours that she has access to, J.”

By the time he finishes laying down all the rules, I have an
uneasy feeling in my stomach. Why can’t we use the phones in anything I own?

J has the same question. “Why all the restrictions? Is there
something we should know?”

Ruzek takes a deep breath, and it is obvious he is ready to
deliver the not so good news.

“There are listening devices in both Rylee and Austin’s
houses. We only found them on the first floor and in obvious locations,
signaling that whoever planted them was in a hurry and definitely not a pro.
There was also one in the Jeep you drive, Rylee, and one of the other cars. We did
not remove any of them in hopes we can use them to our advantage.”

I try to process the new information. It is hard to believe
someone has gone to so much trouble to spy on me. I feel completely violated.
However, I still have one remaining question,

“If the devices are in my house and car, why can’t I use my
old phone and just stay away from the bugs? It has never been out of my sight
long enough for someone to tap it.”

Ruzek looks at me with compassion swimming through his
features. “I am sure it hasn’t, but we suspect he installed spy software on it
from afar and uses that to monitor all activity on your phone. One of our techs
is here and, with your permission, I would like him to check.”

I stand up, pull my old phone from my pocket and hand it to
him. Ruzek walks back out the door and I turn to Jeremy in a state of utter
disbelief.

“Can you believe this shit? Are we living in a James Bond
movie or something?”

He looks at me with a hint of sadness. “I don’t know, Ry,
but it scares me. All we can do is hope Ruzek is able to use this to their
advantage like he said.”

We sit in silence for a few minutes and I try to wrap my
mind around all the information. I am about to stand up and leave the room when
Ruzek reenters. The pity in his eyes tells me this will not be good news.

“It is, as we suspected, running spy software in the
background.”

Jesus. What’s next? Car chases and leaps from a helicopter? It
doesn’t get any more 007 than that. This whole situation is fucking crazy and I
am sick to death of it.

Ruzek looks between my brother and me, seemingly unsure how
to proceed. “Have you decided how you will handle Jeremy’s discharge?”

From the corner of my eye, I see Jeremy yawn and notice how
exhausted he looks. I decide Ruzek and I should take this conversation
elsewhere.

“Ruzek, why don’t we go get a bite to eat? Then we can
discuss this further,” I say adamantly.

He nods and I turn to J. “Would you like me to bring you
some decent food when I return?”

He quickly replies in the affirmative.

“No problem, I will be back in an hour or so,” I say walking
out of the door.

Austin

Holy fuck. I remember now why I never come home. My mother
has been praying for my soul since I walked in the house. She says she saw the
little tart I am involved with on the sports show. I had to bite my tongue in
an effort not to lash out at her over disrespecting Ry. It would do no good.

My mother is a proper woman and religious to a fault. I grew
up Catholic with all the standard religious rules. However, I never felt the
faith the way she does. I am not saying I do not believe, I just have a hard
time believing in the rules - especially the ones she forced down my throat for
years.

My college scholarship saved my life. It gave me a chance to
play ball and, most importantly, gave me a way out of my mother’s suffocating
house. I don’t remember my mom being as overbearing when my dad was around, but
we saw him for the last time when I was eleven.

After my father left, my mom seemed to hate all things male,
including me. It didn’t matter how hard I tried - be it at school, sports, or being
her son - I was never good enough for her. As I got older, I stopped caring about
her opinion of me, seeing I could do no right.

I was never a bad kid per se, I just did what most normal
teenagers do. Unfortunately, I ended up one of the statistics.

I dated Amanda through my sophomore and junior years of high
school. It wasn’t until the summer before our senior year that things went
wayward.

Amanda and I hung out constantly and, thanks to her absentee
parents, we were alone more than two horny teenagers ever should be. We did
what most red-blooded American kids do; we had sex, and tons of it.

 It was late July when Amanda showed up at our local hangout
bawling her eyes out. ‘We became a statistic,’ she told me. What she meant was
she was pregnant. That’s when the shit hit the fan.

We had no real options, considering neither of us was
eighteen yet. We were forced to tell our parents and I promised Amanda that I
would stay by her side no matter what. That proved to be impossible once all
the parents were involved.

Amanda’s parents banned her from seeing me and sent her off
to a school for unwed mothers. They were rich and active in local politics. Apparently
a pregnant teenage daughter would cause problems at the polls for her father.

My mother said nothing for a few weeks, but when she did it
was awful. She told me I was the worst excuse for a son she could have ever
had. She forced me to go to church and copy scripture at night into a notebook
so that I would wake up and see the light.

I never saw the light. What I did see was a blossoming
hatred for my mother. Through all of this, I tried to protect my sister. Ally is
eight years younger than I am, but was old enough then to understand what was
going on. My mother refused to tell Ally the truth about what was happening, so
I did.

 By Christmas that year, things had settled down some and
everyone was living in a somewhat peaceful existence. I had regained the
privilege of leaving the house unattended and promptly used it to make things
worse.

On December 27th my buddy Alex and I met up at the old
hangout and proceeded have a few beers. I was shocked when Amanda showed up
looking for me. I hugged her tight around her growing baby bump and we sat
under the stars catching up, just like old times.

By the time we needed to leave, I realized I couldn’t take
Amanda home since I was on my motorcycle. Alex offered to take Amanda home and
I agreed. We were heading down the back side of the hill when Alex swerved and
drove straight into a tree. The sound of the metal crushing, rubber burning,
and gas leaking will forever be etched into my brain.

I threw my bike down and ran to the car. The primary impact
was on the passenger side, leaving Amanda trapped and unconscious. Realizing I
couldn’t get her out, I went around to help Alex . He seemed dazed, but otherwise
unharmed.

Once Alex was out of the car, I searched for his cell phone
to no avail. I had left mine at home that night wanting to remain unreachable
to my mother. After checking on Alex one last time, I hopped on my bike and
raced down the hill to the local convenience store to call 911. 

It took the firefighters nearly thirty minutes to extricate
Amanda from the car and she never once regained consciousness. Alex was
arrested on suspicion of DUI and I followed the ambulance to the hospital. 

Unfortunately, I never saw Amanda. Once her parents arrived,
I was booted from the premises. The only communication I ever had from them
again was a phone call, telling me that our baby had passed away in the
accident. I was barred from the funeral and had a permanent restraining order
taken out against me. I was not allowed within two hundred yards of Amanda.

My mother claims that it was my sins that killed my child.
She says that, if I had lived a proper life, none of this would have ever
transpired. What I have never figured out is why she is so attached to a child
that would have been born out of wedlock and, in her eyes, a bastard.

I never really got over the loss; I was never allowed to
mourn. Once my mom said her piece, we were never to speak of it again and we
haven’t … until today. She now claims she saw Amanda two weeks ago with a child
approximately nine years old. The same age my child would have been.

Rylee

It is Sunday afternoon and J is set to be released from the
hospital tomorrow morning. The past three days have been excruciatingly slow. I
finally took leave from the hospital, in part to get some work done and in part
because J is extremely irritable.

I am sitting on my bed hoping that Austin will call before I
head back up to the hospital with dinner for my brother. Ruzek is downstairs
watching television, or whatever it is he does when he is convinced I am safe
in my surroundings.

After the cell phone switch, Ruzek and I had a long talk at
lunch concerning my safety. He unilaterally decided that he would be my round-the-clock
bodyguard until further notice. I understand his concerns and I appreciate his
commitment, but I am still not convinced I am the one in need of protection.
The threats are always aimed at Austin, J, or Bode. Ruzek, however, feels I
could be in more danger now that Austin, Bode, and J are unreachable. I see his
point and it terrifies me that he could be right.

Besides Ruzek, I have another officer stationed outside the
house twenty-four hours a day and we have an unmarked escort on the road. So
far the increased police presence has not deterred the stalker at all. I still
receive a few texts a day. They are primarily an attempt to gain my affection,
although he shows some discontent with Ruzek’s presence.

Looking at my bedside clock, I see I have about an hour
before we need to go pick up J’s dinner. I ordered his favorite, spaghetti and
meatballs, from a local Italian bistro and I’m hoping it will cheer him up.
Deciding I should get a move on, I start packing my bags for the trip to New
York. The few things J requested are already packed and ready to go.

I sort through my closet, pull out enough clothes for the
week, and place them into my hanging suitcase. I am leaving for New York
tomorrow so I can accompany J home and get him settled.

Sorting through my comfortable clothes, I pull out one of
Austin’s t-shirts. Holding it to my face I breathe in his scent and it sends my
heart spinning. I miss him; he has been gone a week and things have been off
the past few days.

I cannot pinpoint what exactly is going on with Austin, but
he is not his usual self. He doesn’t call as often and texts even less. When I do
talk to him, it seems like his focus is somewhere else. I know he had some drama
to deal with at home, but I feel like we are falling apart.

Deciding to break our radio silence, I shoot Austin a quick
text.

Me: I Love you Aus
and miss you tons

I toss my phone down on the bed and head into my bathroom to
pack up what I can before tomorrow. I know J will be itching to hit the road as
soon as he is released. I hear my phone ring and hustle into my room to answer,
hoping it is Austin. It is, putting an immediate smile on my face.

“Hey, baby, how are you?” I say with pep to my voice.

He responds with a grunting, “I’m OK. Sorry I didn’t call. I
lost track of time. Things are a disaster here.”

He sounds upset, stressed, and annoyed that he is being forced
to talk to me, which irritates me.

“It’s fine, Austin, you didn’t have to call. I just wanted
to let you know I was thinking about you, but I’ll let you go.”

I hear a deep exhale on the other end of the line and I try
to steel my nerves. He doesn’t sound good. After a few minutes of silence or
brooding, I don’t know which, he finally responds.

“I’m sorry, Ry, things are just a complete clusterfuck down
here. I don’t know what to do. I miss you and I feel like things are coming at
me from all sides. I just want to come home and be with you.”

I feel a little better, but I wonder what is going on that
has him so distraught.

“Aus, do you want to talk about it? I’m here for you
whatever you need. You know that, right?” I can hear what sounds like silent tears.
“Austin, baby, what is going on? Talk to me please.”

Clearing his throat, he responds, “I’m fine, Ry. I will tell
you all about this soon, but not today. I can’t until I am sure I know what the
hell is going on. You have more than enough to deal with right now.”

Now I am worried and a little pissed. He dropped everything
to come and be with me when I needed him most, but he won’t let me close enough
to his situation to help at all.

“Austin, sweetheart, that is not how a relationship works. I
am here if you need me. We have things under control around here. Please let me
in, tell me what’s going on.”

Just as he is about to answer, I hear his mom shout.

“Austin, get your ass in here! The floozy and her parents
just pulled up.”

With alarm lacing to my voice, I ask, “Austin, what is going
on? Who is there to see you?”

He huffs loudly. “I’ve got to go, Ry. I love you, baby.
Please trust me; we will talk about this later, I promise. There is no one else
in this world for me, Ry. I love you.”

And with that, the line goes dead.

I am now both pissed off and shocked. I throw my phone down
and fall into pillows headfirst. My mind races with all the possibilities. I
know his mom is very religious and whoever is at the house probably isn’t a
floozy. That knowledge does not soothe my temper though. A floozy by any
definition is a woman and I don’t like him hanging out with a woman he refuses
to talk to me about. For all I know, his mom has signed him up for an arranged
marriage to assuage his supposed sins.

Well, that might be taking it too far … but what am I
supposed to think when he won’t tell me anything? Why can’t we catch a break?
What does the world have against Austin and me?