Lucky Strike Page 2

  I will give it to Jackson he was a changed man for the first few months we were back together. But once a cheat always a cheat.

  I met Jackson ten years ago when I moved to San Francisco to attend art school. He was volunteering as a nude model for the sculpting class I was attending. His confidence was what drew me in at first. Most of the models you could tell were nervous about being naked in front of a room full of strange prying eyes, but not Jackson. He proudly shed his robe revealing one of the most insane bodies I’d ever seen. Strong muscular legs, chiseled eight-pack abs, and those traps along his shoulders looked like the perfect handles to hold onto while he fucked you into submission. He had every woman in that class drooling all over themselves with his killer smile and equally killer big dick. But at the end of the week, I was the one he was bending over the hood of his car making scream.

  We moved in together two months after meeting and at first everything seemed to be going great. We had this undeniable fire that burned between us. But that all seemed to cool off about six months after we moved in together. It started with Jackson flirting with other girls while we were out at the clubs. The flirting quickly turning to hookups and late night booty calls. When I first caught him cheating, I left his ass on the spot, but a week later he showed up on my doorstep begging me to come back, that he would change. I foolishly believed him and took him back, just like my weak mother did every time my father cheated on her. I guess the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree.

  Jackson was good for a while, but like I said before once a cheat always a cheat.

  The back and forth went on for a year and a half before Jackson just stopped coming home. He left me high and dry with an apartment I could barely afford on my own and a pile of overdue bills. Determined not to go back to Seattle to my parents’ house—where they could rub it in my face that they were right that I couldn’t make it on my own—I took on odd jobs delivering sandwiches, teaching pottery and working at night as a bartender at a strip club. When I realized how much some of the dancers made in a night, I took the leap and started stripping. All the yoga and Pilates classes I took came in handy. I was able to do tricks on stage that none of the other dancers could perform, and quickly became a favorite at the club. I felt so free and in control on stage. For those three songs I held the crowd in the palm of my hand, and it made me feel alive to have that kind of control for once. After that, I made a vow I would never trust a man to take care of me ever again.

  I was making it on my own proving my parents wrong. I was doing what I loved and I was happy. But then tragedy struck when my childhood best friend Lucy’s husband was killed during his tour of duty in Iraq. She’s always been like a sister to me and had been there for me during the whole Jackson mess, so I knew I needed to be there for her. So I jumped the first flight to West Virginia to be by her side and even moved back to Seattle with her.

  At first, it felt strange being back in Seattle, it felt like a foreign land to me. It took some getting used to, but I found peace there again thanks to Lucy, Brian, and Ryder.

  God, just the mere thought of Ryder’s name is like fucking hot knife to the chest. Just as I’m about to go to my dark place, Jackson stumbles through the door of our tiny studio apartment reeking of booze and perfume. He kicks off his boots and climbs into bed trying to climb on top of me but I push him away.

  “What the fuck, Nadine?”

  God, I hate the way he says my real name. It’s like nails on a chalkboard. Just for that, I push him off the bed when he lunges at me again. “Fuck you, Jackson. No way in hell am I letting you put your dick in me after you just fucked some piece of trash from the bar.” I pull the blankets back and climb out of bed ready to fight, only to find Jackson passed out on the floor. Fucking asshat.

  I grab my phone off the nightstand then open the sliding door out to the balcony. Stepping out, I lean against the railing. The cool night air blowing up from the ocean soothes my overheated body. Being in Mexico with Jackson again is the last place I imagined I’d end up, but it was the furthest I could get away from Seattle after what happened between Ryder and me.

  When I close my eyes, I can still see the pain reflected in his face when I walked out leaving him broken-hearted. I wanted so desperately to stay with him, to let him love me, but deep down I know Ryder deserves someone who knows how to love and knows how to accept love.

  I didn’t grow up with parents that knew how to be affectionate with a child. They rarely ever told me they loved me. To them, I was just a status symbol. A beautiful daughter they could parade out during their fancy parties to make their rich asshole friends jealous. The only affection I got in that house was from my nanny, Doreen. My parents didn’t want a child they wanted a puppet.

  The only real friends I had growing up were Brian, Lucy and Ryder—especially Ryder. He lived two blocks from my house and became my escape when my parents were fighting over my dad’s most recent affair with one of his bimbo secretaries. Ryder was the only stable person in my life, and I just threw him away like he was a piece of garbage. And it’s slowly eating away at me.

  I slide open my phone and flip through my pictures, stopping at the one of Ryder and me making goofy faces at the camera. My heart begins to ache, wishing I could go back to that night at the club and take back everything I said after Ryder and I made love. Just tell him I still love him. But I know I can’t take back what happened, now I just have to live with the guilt of throwing all the people that meant the most to me in this world away.

  I bring my hands to my face quietly sobbing and slowly dying a little more inside.

  The bar is oddly quiet for a Saturday night, just a few regulars and me drowning our sorrows with cheap beer and even cheaper whiskey. My day didn’t quite go as I had planned. Brian called me earlier saying he was dealing with a big case and wouldn’t be able to go fishing. It’s still hard adjusting to Brian being a detective now and having a new partner watching his back. That has always been my job, but maybe it was for the best since I no longer know what that means to be his partner anymore. I knew it was inevitable, Brian had big dreams of becoming a detective and I thought I would be ready for that day, but now that it’s here it just feels like he’s abandoned me. He has a new job, a wife and is starting his family, his life is finally on a good path and I’m just stuck going neither forward nor backward. And without Lucky here, I feel even more lost and empty.

  I needed the distraction of fishing with Brian today. Being that today is Lucky’s birthday. Since she’s been gone this day has been especially hard. Lucky hated celebrating her birthday. She would come to my place to hide out from Lucy, who would always want to throw her some big party. We would add to our sleeves of tattoos, then get drunk and watch The Goonies on repeat, quoting every line from the movie.

  Beneath the tough girl exterior, Lucky is as vulnerable and caring as the rest of us. I was the only one privileged enough to get to see it. She trusted me more than anyone in this world. And that’s why today is especially hard for me, and Brian not showing up, only makes my feelings of abandonment even worse.

  I grab my phone out of my pocket and scroll through my contacts needing a distraction in the form of a tight, wet pussy. I find Courtney’s number and send her a quick text.

  Me: Hey gorgeous, feel like joining me for a drink?

  I hit send and not a minute later she replies back with a yes. I text her the address then order another beer. Between Britney and Courtney, I was more drawn to Courtney. I think it’s because she reminded me a little of Lucky. From her dark green eyes to the way she would bite her lip when she was nervous. I guess if I can’t have the real Lucky why not have her double?

  “What if someone sees us, Ryder?” Courtney’s voice is shaky and nervous as I bend her over the hood of my car.

  “Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ve patrolled this section of the waterfront before and no one comes down here this late at night,” I reassure her as I roll the condom down my cock.

 
Courtney met me at the bar twenty minutes after I texted her. We shared a few drinks and I taught her how to play pool. On our way back to my apartment Courtney leaned over to my lap and impatiently unzipped my pants and whipped my dick out, then proceeded to give me road head. Her mouth felt so damn good, I couldn’t wait to get her back to my place to fuck her. So I pulled off the road to an area by the water where I knew no one would see us.

  Once fully seated inside Courtney, I look up spying the flashing blue and red lights pulling up behind my car.

  You gotta be fucking kidding me.

  What the fuck is a black and white doing down here?

  The bars are closing, all patrols are supposed to be patrolling the main roadways. Courtney pushes me away and rushes to grab her clothes off the ground trying to cover herself up before Officer Cockblock gets out of his car.

  As soon as the officer steps out of his vehicle I know immediately who it is—the biggest ass kisser at the precinct, Officer James Street. He flashes his light on me letting the whole world see that I’m wearing nothing but a condom and a smug grin.

  “Well, well, well, Officer Callahan caught with your pants down. Captain is sure gonna love to hear about this.” The smug asshole laughs.

  “Street, that might be a little difficult with your head being so far up the cap’s ass and all.” Fucking prick is well known around the Second as the captain’s little errand boy. His lips are permanently attached to the captain’s ass.

  “Big words coming from a guy who’s gonna have half the inmates in lockup eyeing his pretty ass tonight. Put your fucking clothes on. I’m taking you and your little friend down to the station.”

  “On what fucking grounds?” I snarl, staring him down.

  “Drunk in public, public nudity, and driving while intoxicated.”

  “I can’t go to jail. My parents will kill me if they find out,” Courtney calls out, her voice full of panic.

  Street flashes his light on Courtney, and I notice him eyeing her up and down. Licking his lips at the sight of her still half-naked body. He steps past me and walks over to Courtney. I have to do something, he can take my ass to jail, but I won’t let him take Courtney in for my fuck up. I sneak over to his patrol car and open the door sliding into the leather seat and yell, “Gonna be hard to arrest us without your car.” I crank it into reverse and speed off with the sirens blaring and Street chasing after me on foot.

  Good luck catching up to me asshat.

  Two hours after stealing Street’s car I find myself in an orange jumpsuit sitting alone in lock up. Never been on this side of the bars before. There’s a mixture of piss and ass looming in the air. Gonna be hard to shower that smell out after I get out of here.

  Just about every cop in the building has been by to see if what they had heard over the scanners was true. I’m not sorry for what I did, I needed to do something to keep Street from taking Courtney in. The prick deserved it and everyone seems to agree with me. Even though I have the backing of every officer here, I know my ass is in some pretty deep shit once the captain catches wind of it. At this point, I don’t really give a shit if I get fired. I’ve lost everything else important to me, just a matter of time before I lost this too.

  I hear the faint sounds of footsteps coming down the corridor. I think it’s another on-looker when I look up and spot Brooke walking toward my cell. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Darlene from dispatch called me after she heard the call that they were bringing you in. She thought it would be better me than Brian to come down here and bail you out.” I can hear the disappointment in her voice.

  “I’m a little surprised you even showed up.” That’s putting it mildly, I’m utterly shocked. I would expect her to let me rot in here.

  “Of course, I’d come. I still care about you, Ryder. I’m not a fan of this version of you, but I will always be here for you. You’re family.” She looks at me with sadness and concern in her eyes. “What’s going on with you, Ryder? This isn’t you. This isn’t the sweet Ryder I know.”

  “Nothing’s going on with me, Brooke. Can you please just take me home?”

  Brooke calls over Officer Brinks to open my cell. I get up and start walking for the door, but Brooke steps inside and tells Brinks to lock the cell behind her.

  “Brooke what are you doing?”

  “We’re not leaving this cell until you tell me what’s going on with you?” She walks over to the small wooden bench and takes a seat.

  “We could be in here for a while because I’m not talking about this with you.”

  “Ella is with Lucy and Brian is working, so I have all the time in the world.” She pats the bench next to her.

  I slump down on the seat next to her and fold my arms in front of me. If she thinks she’s gonna get me to crack, she’s got another think coming.

  “She’s gone, Ryder.”

  What the fuck?

  “She’s gone and she’s never coming back.”

  “God damn it, Brooke. Why are you saying this shit?” I squirm around on the bench, fighting back the tears I can feel welling up in my eyes.

  “Lucky is gone.” Her soft voice like nails to my heart.

  Fuck, Brian was right. She does know how to get under your skin and find exactly what it takes to make you fucking crack. And crack I do.

  “That night at the club, I told Lucky I loved her and she fucking bolted. I poured my heart out to her and she just left.” I begin to sob uncontrollably as every of emotion I had built a wall around comes tumbling free. All I wanted to do was to keep Lucky from running off with that douchebag Jackson. We got into a fight then the next thing I know she’s kissing me and pushing me against the wall tearing me from my clothes. After we had sex, I told her I loved her and she panicked and ran.

  “I miss her so damn much. I feel so empty without her, and I don’t know how to make this feeling go away. I’m fucking losing it, Brooke.” Brooke pulls me into her arms and just lets me cry it out. Let’s me get everything that I’d built up for so long come flooding out. Every painful memory of that night pouring free. The last thing I saw was her walking out the door, turning to me and mouthing ‘I’m sorry.’ Lucky has been etched into my soul since the day we met. Without her, I’m an empty shell of a man. She has my heart and I need to get her back.

  I slump over into Brooke’s lap and she gently strokes my hair. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to come stay with us for a while.”

  “Brooke, I can’t do that.”

  “I’m sorry, but you don’t have a choice in the matter. Right now, what you need is to be with family and we are your family.”

  So damn bossy. But maybe her form of tough love is what I need right now. I mean she was able to get Brian out of the dark hole he was in, so why not me too. She’s right, I’m not doing well on my own. I need to be around people who care about me.

  “Okay,” I relent.

  “Good. Now it’s time we go find your girl.”

  I sit back up on the bench my sadness turning to curiosity by her statement. “Brooke, I’ve used every last resource I have to try and find Lucky and nothing has come up. She’s completely disappeared.”

  “That’s because you didn’t have the FBI helping you out before. My dad can find anybody, and I know he can track Lucky down. If you really want her back, we will find her,” she says confidently. I hope she’s right because I would give my left arm to find Lucky and bring her home.

  “I’m sorry for being so cold to you Ryder. You’ve been going through hell, and I was being such a bitch to you. Can you ever forgive me?” She slides her hand over mine and gives me a warm smile.

  “As long as you can forgive me for being a jackass, and for putting you in my spank bank after seeing you naked earlier this week.”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Ryder.” Brooke rears her fist back and nails me hard in the arm.

  “Sorry, but for someone who’s had a kid and is pregnant with another, your b
ody is smoking hot,” I say rubbing my arm. Damn, she can pack a punch.

  Brooke gives me a sideways glance and a small smirk tugs at her lips. “Thank you. All right smart ass, let’s get you out of this pissed soaked hell hole.”

  I burst out the cantina doors, my knuckles throbbing in pain as I run down the dark street toward my apartment building. It’s one thing to know that Jackson is cheating on me, it’s a whole other story to catch him in the act, especially tonight of all nights.

  Jackson promised me a night out that would make me forget it was my birthday.

  Since I was thirteen, I’ve hated my birthday. That was the age I realized my birthday was just another excuse for my parents to throw a lavish party to impress their wealthy pretentious friends. I would be forced to dress up in some prissy frilly dress and pretend to be having a good time with their asshole kids. The only thing that got me through those awful parties was knowing that the second the party was over I could sneak over to Ryder’s house. We would spend the night watching movies cuddled up on his bed, and eating the birthday waffles that his mom would make just for me. It was pure bliss.

  I wish I could hit the rewind button and go back to the simpler times. When all I had to do was climb the ladder up to Ryder’s room and curl up in bed with him, just letting the bad shit fade away and be happy again.

  I make it back to my apartment. Closing and locking the deadbolt and sliding the chain in place. Knowing Jackson will be busting through the door at any moment, I run to the bathroom to clean my bloodied knuckles. The warm water and soap stinging the cuts from punching Jackson in the face after I found him in the ladies room balls deep in some random young tourist. He couldn’t even keep it in his pants even on my fucking birthday.

  Happy fucking birthday to me.

  After wrapping my hand in a bandage, I run over to my closet and grab the duffel bag I keep hidden in one of the ceiling panels. I started hiding money, my passport, and spare clothes in this bag the night Jackson first came home smelling like hooker pussy and tequila. Knowing one day, he would get bored with me again and leave. I sure as hell wasn’t going to be left penniless by that asshole again. I quickly change out of my bloody clothes then stuff a few more articles of clothing into my bag before grabbing my car keys.