Lucky Strike (4 page)

“When you do, send one my direction. I will proudly wear it.” Courtney looks over at me, her face softening and her lips curling into a small grin. “I hope you find your girl, Ryder. In the little time, I’ve spent with you, I know deep down you’re a nice guy, who deserves to be happy. And I really hope you find her.”

“Thanks, Courtney. I know whoever is lucky enough to get to be yours is going to be the luckiest guy in the world.”

I apologize to Courtney one more time. We hug, then Courtney leaves Lola and me on the bench. That went better than I’d imagined. I was fully prepared for a big dramatic scene. But before the fire could start Brooke had already put it out. I’m going to owe Brooke my first born for all the help she’s given me in the last twenty-four hours.

I untie Lola from the bench, and as we start to walk through the small park a big, wrinkly, brown and white English Bulldog comes bounding toward Lola and me, then proceeds to mount Lola and go to town on her. I yell for him to stop, but he keeps pounding into her. I’m slightly impressed, now that’s my kind of dog, but I know the owner has to be somewhat mortified by what their dog is doing.

I look around at the other people in the park and none of them seem to be paying attention. And there appears to be no one frantically looking around for their dog. Maybe he’s a stray. I bend down and manage to get the beast of a dog off Lola to check and see if he has any tags, but there are none. The pup licks my face. He’s too damn sweet for me to just leave him here. I feel a kindred spirit with this dog, one that’s too strong just to take him to the pound to leave him there. I pick his heavy ass up off the ground and figure I could take him to the vet and see if he’s chipped.

The vet gives the dog a complete once over then checks for a locator chip, but there isn’t one.

“This big guy is in great health. The owner might have decided they couldn’t care for him anymore. We see that a lot around here. If you’d like we can call animal rescue and have them take him down to the pound.”

“No, I think I’ll take him home with me and see if I can locate the owner.” No owner, seems this dog is just as lost as I am.

Maybe we can help each other?

“So buddy, you want to come home with me?” I rub behind his ears as he licks my face.

“I think that’s a yes.” The vet chuckles. “So what are you going to name him?” he asks.

“Maybe Spike.”

I let the dogs out in Brian’s backyard and head inside. Dropping my bags from the pet supply store down in the laundry room, I then head to the kitchen to fill Spike’s new water dish. Turning the corner, I notice Brooke sitting at the kitchen island feeding Ella her dinner. She looks up at me with a polite smile.

“So how did it go with the captain?”

“Better than I thought. I’m off active duty for the next six months and am on cage duty. I probably would have lost my job if it wasn’t for what you said in that letter you wrote to the captain. What did you say to him?” I ask leaning up against the counter.

She feeds Ella her last spoonful of what looks to be mashed up peas, then collects the dishes and joins me over by the sink.

“I just told him what’s been going on with you lately.”

“Why would you help me out like that?”

She sets the dishes in the sink then turns to face me. “I did it because I know what it’s like to have your world ripped out from under you. And I know how easy it is to go completely off the rails. You’ve lost enough over the past two years to lose your job too. Right now, you need the stability of your family and your job if you’re going to get through this.” She runs a comforting hand along my back. I turn and pull her into my arms.

“Thank you so much for everything you’ve done for me. You didn’t have to do any of this. You could have let me get fired.”

“I wanted to. You’re a good guy, Ryder, and you deserve to be happy.” As we stand there hugging Spike comes in through the dog door and goes straight for Brooke’s leg and starts licking her bare skin. “Ryder, why’s there a strange dog licking my leg.”

We both look down at Spike, who looks up at us with a big slobbery smile.

“Brooke, this is Spike. I found him wandering alone at the dog park. When no one claimed him, I decided to keep him. He seems to really like Lola.” We both look over just in time to see Spike mounting Lola for round three.

“Like father like son,” Brooke giggles. “Two lost souls finding each other. Maybe having this dog is what you need. Just make sure you keep him off Lola when Brian’s around.”

“I’ll do my best. Thank you again, Brooke.” If I weren't so in love with Lucky, I would have given Brian one hell of a fight for Brooke. He’s one lucky son of a bitch to have a woman like Brooke.

“It was my pleasure. Now, how about we order pizza for dinner. This baby is craving a greasy slice of pepperoni pizza.”

The music was vibrating through the walls of the Champagne Room. The smell of sex still hanging heavy in the air as Ryder and I laid sweat-laced in a tangled weave of limbs on the small leather couch. I could feel Ryder tracing his index finger along each petal of the clover tattoo on my left shoulder. The tattoo we both got when we were eighteen, as a way to always remember the special bond we’ve shared since we were little kids playing on the playground.

His head dips down placing a gentle kiss over the “R” etched onto the final leaf and whispers, “My lucky clover.”

His words like a hot knife to my heart. The searing pain bringing me back to reality. The reality that I’d just broken the only two rules I lived by. Never have sex in the Champagne Room and never, I repeat never, sleep with your best friend. In a stupid moment of weakness, I’d broken both those rules in one night.

My whole body went rigged and cold against his touch. His words, “I love you, Lucky,” ringing in my ears. I had to get out of there. I had to get as far away from Ryder, from this city as I could. As much as I did love Ryder back, he deserved someone better than me. He deserved to be with someone who could make him happy. Someone who knew how to love him back. Not some dead behind the eyes, soulless stripper.

“I can’t do this,” my harsh words finally broke the silence. I managed to wiggle free from Ryder’s grasp and quickly started collecting my clothes from the floor. My runner instincts on high alert as I got dressed.

“You can’t do what?” Ryder got up from the couch and grabbed my arm stopping me before I could bolt for the door.

“I can’t do this whole… I love you… you love me, stuff.” I pulled my arm free from his tight grip. “You deserve better, Ryder.” My voice cracked with the weight of my emotions.

“No, I do deserve you, and only you, Lucky. What do I have to do to convince you that we belong together?”

Each word that left his mouth was melting my cold black heart. The warmth of his love, a love I’d never experienced was excruciatingly painful. My heart wasn’t equipped for this. I wasn’t equipped to feel real love. I looked up into Ryder’s eyes, the pain and sadness burning behind them as he waited for me to reply was almost unbearable to watch. The truth was, there was nothing that he could ever do or say that could make me change my mind. He was better off without me.

I ran for the door, my hands fumbling with the locks. Just as the door flew open, I could hear Ryder call out behind me.

“I will always love you, Lucky.”

“Would you like to keep your same number?” The polite saleswoman asks from behind her computer.

“No, just give me a new one.”

I made it to San Diego just after sunset, needing to stop to gas up and pick up a new cell phone. I can’t take listening to Jackson blowing up my phone any longer. He’d left thirty voice messages ranging from him telling me how
‘he owned me,’
to
‘get my bitch ass back to Mexico.’
To his last desperate attempt begging me to come back. That is never going to happen, not anymore. I’m done with Jackson. I’m washing my hands and my soul of him.

I know Jackson is smart enough to know I’m going straight home to Seattle, but he’s a cheating asshat that I know all too well. He’ll spend a couple days getting a few last fucks under his belt before preparing his sob story to try and win me back. So I know I have a couple of weeks to get home to Seattle and make everything right with Ryder and the rest of my friends.

I just hope that by the time Jackson does come knocking on my door, I’ll be strong enough to cut the powerful hold he seems to have on me, and finally break this pattern that started with my mother.

Before stepping out of the cell phone store, I drop my old phone into the recycling bin. It feels a bit like throwing away my past. I make my way back to the parking lot and to my car. Slumping in behind the steering wheel I slide my finger across my new phone. The screen lighting up with a strange new image, not the one of me, Lucy and Brooke that I’m used to. It’s a clean slate.

As I stare at the screen, I feel the strong overwhelming urge to dial Ryder’s number. I need to hear his voice. I hesitate, my thumb hovering over the numbers. I take a deep breath and grow a pair of balls and dial his number, the only number that’s burned into my memory.

Bringing the phone to my ear and listening, I wait for him to answer. My heart is beating wildly in my chest, my palms beginning to sweat with each ring of Ryder’s phone. I don’t even know what I’m going to say if he even answers.

I pray he doesn’t.

Don’t answer. Please don’t answer,
I silently chant to myself.

On the fifth ring, he answers.

“Hello,” he says in a sleepy, groggy tone.

I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out but a breath of air.

“Is anybody there?” he asks.

I desperately want to reply. Tell him I’m fine and that I’m coming home, but I can’t form the words.

“Lucky, is that you?”

My heart stops when I hear him utter my name. A tear beginning to trickle down my cheek. I bring my hand to my mouth, muffling my sobs.

“Lucky, please come home. I love you, Clover.”

My heart leaps into my throat at his statement.
Clover
, he hasn’t called me that since we were teenagers.

“Clover, please come home.” I can hear the sadness in his voice as he waits for me to say something, but I’m too big of a pussy to open my mouth and tell him I’m coming home to him.

I can’t believe, even after all that I’ve put him through—throwing him away like a piece of trash—that he still loves me. Knowing that breaks my cold heart even more.

How can anyone as good as Ryder love someone like me?