Authors: Marissa Carmel
Tags: #new adult romance, #stripper stories, #fictional relationships, #na contemporary romance
Holy shit, what?
As I put my hands behind my back, Ryan goes
nuts, flailing in Officer Vincent’s grip. “She had nothing to do
with it!” he yells. “She didn’t know it was there! It’s mine! It’s
mine! I take full responsibility!”
“Ryan shut the fuck up!” I snap. That idiot
just incriminated himself.
The officer pulls at my arm and I catch a
glimpse of his nametag. “Is this true? Did you know anything about
the drugs?” Officer O’Malley asks strictly.
“No, nothing,” I answer automatically,
suddenly realizing I just threw Ryan under the bus. I’m not
thinking very clearly.
Officer O’Malley lets go of my arm and Ryan
expels a ragged sigh as he’s dragged back to the parked cop
cars.
My mind is in hyperdrive. I want to scream, I
want to yell, I want them to know who the fuck my father is. Who
they’re messing with. But I can’t utter his name, because I know as
soon as I do, my whole life will get flushed away. I watch
helplessly as Ryan is shoved into the back of a Crown Vic, and I
can only hope that with all the commotion they’ll forget to
mirandize him.
“Ryan Pierce,” Officer Vincent says in a
detached tone, “you’re under arrest, you have the right to remain
silent…”
Fuck.
“Ma’am. Impound will be here shortly to tow
the car away. You’ll have to call for a ride or come to the station
with me.” Officer O’Malley says.
I look at him vacantly. How ironic, Ryan
bought his car at a police auction. Which is where it’s going to
end up again if we don’t fix this fast.
“Um, I’ll come with you,” I answer distracted
as I watch Officer Vincent’s cruiser pull away with Ryan cuffed in
the back seat. His head is pressed against the window, his eyes
looking downwards.
I slip into the cop car a shaking mess. “Can
I make a phone call?” I ask, shifting restlessly in the back seat.
The police radio talking and hissing as we start to drive off.
“Yes,” Officer O’Malley answers evenly as he
steers.
I quickly whip out my phone and dial the only
person’s number I know can help.
“Uncle John,” I say after he picks up on the
second ring. “I need you.”
By the time I get to Shrewsbury police
station, my uncle is there waiting, pacing the front steps. The
station is a small, brick building with black double doors and
police cars parked in front.
“Alana,” he says urgently when he sees me,
and I know there’s a reprimand coming by the tone of his voice.
“Uncle John, wait. Before you go all parental
on me, please hear me out.”
He huffs, “
Drugs?
”
“Yes. No,” I sit down on the cold concrete
step and drop my head into my hands, my uncle sitting next to
me.
I would give anything for a cigarette right
now and at the moment, I’m considering reinstating the habit.
Where the hell do I start?
“Seven years ago, I met Ryan-”
“Seven years?” he interrupts me
surprised.
“Yes,” I say dejectedly, “and we fell
ridiculously in love. Then one day he just disappeared, without a
trace. I never knew what happened, until I discovered him dancing
at Culture the night of Emily’s bachelorette party.”
“That must have been a shock.”
“To say the least,” I scoff, “but what
shocked me more was finding out what happened to him. Sean, his
twin, is pretty heavily involved in drugs.”
“I see,” he says speculatively.
“But that’s the thing, you don’t.” I turn to
him, “Sean used Ryan’s identity to get out of an arrest, and then
never showed up for the court date. Ryan got pulled over and was
detained on the spot for an outstanding warrant. He wouldn’t give
Sean up. And ended up serving time in Sean’s place. He did three
years.”
“What?” my uncle says outraged.
“Yes, and I never knew, but it gets better.”
I run my hands through my hair, “Daddy convicted him.”
“Oh Jesus Christ,” my uncle John rakes his
hands down his face. “So Ryan’s occupation had nothing to do with
why you didn’t want your father knowing about him?”
I nod somberly.
“And it was Sean’s drugs in Ryan’s car?”
“Yes.”
“You know Ryan is back in the same boat as
before. Shrewsbury is in Merrick’s district.”
“I know,” I say despairingly, wishing I could
cry, but I can’t. The only thing I can do is strangle my emotions,
restraining everything I feel.
“Where is Sean now?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Alana, you have to find him. He’s the only
person who can get Ryan out of this.”
“I know, but I don’t think Ryan’s mom will
tell me where he is. She’s part of the reason Ryan took the fall
for Sean the first time.”
“This situation just gets better and better.”
My uncle looks at me in disbelief. “Okay, this is what we’re going
to do,” he says like the bad ass lawyer that he is. “First, I’m
going to go find out when Ryan’s arraignment is, and then get him a
lawyer. Shelly, she practices in New York and New Jersey, and she’s
one of the best criminal attorneys on my payroll. Then, Ryan has to
find Sean.” He stipulates, “He can’t take the fall for him
again.”
No disagreement there.
“I’m going to put in a call to Judge
Reynolds, he’s a personal friend and owes me big for keeping his
son out of jail. If, worst case scenario, you can’t find Sean, I’ll
at least make sure Ryan doesn’t go in front of your father again.
Hopefully we can work a deal with the prosecutor. It’s going to be
tough though, this is his second offense. From what you told me on
the phone, with the amount of heroin they found, he’ll be charged
with not only possession but also intent to distribute. That’s
twenty years, Alana.”
“I know Uncle John,” my heart constricts at
the thought.
“Honey,” my uncle takes my hand, “this might
get messy. I know Ryan is a nice guy and you love him, but are you
sure he’s worth jeopardizing your entire future for?”
Anger strikes me like whiplash and I have to
keep myself from snapping at my uncle, because I know he’s just
trying to look out for me. Ryan has already been through hell once;
I’m not going to desert him if he ends up back there a second
time.
“Yes,” I answer as composed as possible.
Doing what I always do, internalizing my true feelings.
“Okay then, it’s time to come out
swinging.”
It’s what he always says when he has a tough
case ahead of him. Except this time, it’s not a court case he’s
referring to.
It’s life.
Sean has been MIA
ever since Ryan’s arrested.
It's 2 AM, Ryan’s court date is tomorrow and
I can’t sleep. We’re staying in the guest room of my aunt and
uncle’s house. It was easier than coming in early from the city,
since Ryan’s court appearance is at 8.
The tension between us has been as thick as
exhaust fumes in a tiny condominium garage. And tomorrow everything
is going to change. Somehow, my uncle jimmy rigged Ryan’s case to
end up on Judge Reynolds’ docket. Not like that’s illegal or
anything; Shelly was able to work a deal with the prosecutor to get
Ryan into drug court, which is like an intense probation. He’ll
have to move back to New Jersey and in with his mother. God help
me. He’ll be heavily monitored, frequently drug tested and mandated
to attend a substance abuse program. He may not be a drug addict,
but they’re sure as hell going to treat him like one.
The silver lining; he won’t be in jail.
I don’t know what the next three months are
going to be like for us. I start my last semester of law school in
a few weeks and I need to concentrate heavily on that, but I also
know the distance is going to kill me.
Ryan starts whimpering in his sleep again.
He’s been having nightmares ever since he was arrested. He avoids
the subject when I try to talk to him about it, but it doesn’t take
a genius to know what he’s dreaming about. Prison. It’s his
emotional response to the fear of the future and stress of the
past.
Ryan suddenly shoots up out of a dead sleep;
he’s panting, sweating and swearing all at the same time.
“Hey,” I say soothingly, rubbing his back,
“it’s okay.”
Ryan drops his head back, his bare chest
expanding and contracting, but he doesn’t speak. So I ask the
dumbest question imaginable, “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” his response is terse as he lies back
down.
“You know you can talk to me Ryan. If you’re
scared, tell me.”
I’m so sick of him pushing me away.
“I’m not scared, Alana. I’m pissed off.” He
rolls over.
“Is that why you’ve been so distant?”
He blows out a hot breath, reluctant to talk,
“Yes, but I don’t want to be.”
“Then don’t be.”
“I don’t know how else to be right now. I
don’t want to end up taking my anger out on you. It was enough you
saw me go after Sean.”
“He got what he deserved, I sort of wish you
hospitalized him,” I mumble.
We wouldn
’
t be in this mess if you
had.
“Alana don’t say that,” Ryan snaps at me.
“He’s my brother and he’s sick.”
“Is that why you didn’t push harder to find
him?”
“Excuse me?” Ryan rolls over forcefully, his
arm brushing across the satin of my camisole.
“Why didn’t you push harder to find him?”
It didn’t seem to matter how many times Ryan
badgered his mother about Sean’s whereabouts; she told him the same
thing every time. That she didn’t know where Sean was. Which is a
complete crock of shit and we both know it.
“Don’t be ridiculous. What did you want me to
do, send out a search party?”
“Yes. If you’re really so concerned about
what’s going to happen to you, I think you would have tried harder
to find him.”
“Oh really?” Now he’s straight up mad.
“You know what I think? I think this is
exactly what happened seven years ago. You’ve been put between a
rock and a hard place, and you don’t want be the cause of something
bad happening to Sean or your mother, so you suck it up and pay the
price for all of them.” Maybe that’s why he didn’t involve me the
first time. He knew I would have talked him out of going through
with it.
“Everything will be fine. Shelly spoke with
the prosecutor, I’m going to plead guilty, take the deal and be
done with it, then move on with my life.”
“What life?” I argue, “You’re not going to be
able to leave the state of New Jersey and Vegas is shot.”
“Pipedream.”
“I don’t accept that.”
“You don’t have to, it’s not your life.”
“No, but one day it might have been our
life.”
“What do you mean,
might have?
”
“We can’t have a future like this Ryan.
Always looking over our shoulders worrying about what Sean might do
next?”
Ryan pauses, I can’t see his face in the
darkness, but I can hear him breathe restively. “Am I going to lose
you over this, Alana?”
“This? No, but there are no guarantees down
the road.”
Ryan huffs, “Why does that statement not
surprise me?”
“What?” I retort.
“You want to know what’s really a pipedream?
The idea that someone like you could actually end up with someone
like me.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means I’m just the interim, the dirty
little secret in your past that your future will never know
about.”
That statement just stabbed me right in the
heart. But I know it isn’t him talking. It’s the anger and fear and
resentment and rage. And even though I recognize that, it doesn’t
mean it hurts any less.
“You know what,” I throw the covers off me,
“now you sound like Sean and your mother. If you want to believe
the pauper never ends up with the princess
bullshit, fine.
But don’t think I’m going to sit here and put up with you saying
hurtful things to me just so you can push me away. I’ll go freely.”
I get out of bed and stomp towards the door, “But let me leave you
with a little reminder before I go.” I grab the knob, “I distinctly
recall you telling me that you were never going to take the fall
for Sean again, yet here you are. Going in front of a judge
tomorrow, handing him several years of your life for something you
didn’t do.”