Read The Hurricane Online

Authors: Nicole Hart

The Hurricane (14 page)

BOOK: The Hurricane
13.1Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Ryker put his arms around me and kissed the side of my head before whispering in my ear, “I know this worries you, I’m sorry.”

I shook my head at him, dismissing his words, but aware that he knew exactly how I felt and he sympathized with me.

“Can I go for a ride on your motorcycle?” Brooklyn asked as she inspected his seat, running her hands over the leather.

“I think that might make your momma nervous, plus you don’t have a helmet,” Ryker said as he ran his hand along the small of my back before he took the two steps that put him next to Brooklyn.

“You don’t wear a helmet,” she said as she looked up at him with those big green eyes.

“Brooklyn, maybe some other time, ok?” I said.

“It’s really hot out here, how about we go play in the waves?” Ryker said, and held his hand out for Brooklyn to take, which she did without hesitation.

“You too, Nat,” he said as he held out his other hand for me to take, which I did without hesitation.

Once we got to the waterline, I let my eyes wander over to Ryker as Brooklyn stuck her toes in the water. He pulled his shirt over his head and then kicked his boots off. I continued to stare, he was so sexy, and I wasn’t stopping now. He unbuttoned his jeans and slid them down, revealing a pair of grey board shorts. How did someone go from looking like a sexy biker to a sexy tatted up surfer in a matter of seconds?

“Your turn,” Ryker said with that cocky grin of his as he pulled his aviators down the bridge of his nose, just a little, staring at me.

I gave him the side eyes as I pulled my strapless cover-up down in one quick motion. This revealed my modest one piece navy blue bathing suit with the tiny white bows on the sides. It was cute, but not too revealing, and just a little sexy, but not too much.

“Fucking sexy,” Ryker mumbled as he slapped my ass before walking towards the water, where Brooklyn had her back to us, digging her feet into the wet sand.

“You coming?” Ryker said as he stopped, and looked over his shoulder.

“In a minute.” I stalled. Even though it was hot outside, I always had to work my way slowly into the water. I watched Ryker whisper something in Brooklyn’s ear, which followed by her shaking her head quickly, covering her mouth. Before I had the chance to run, Ryker was right in front of me, grabbed me around the legs and threw me over his shoulder.

“Ryker!” I screamed through my giggles.

“You better put me down, right now,” I said, pinching his butt.

“Should I put her down?” Ryker asked Brooklyn.

“Nope!” she yelled, and then laughed hysterically.

“Sorry, baby, Brooklyn says no,” he said as he started taking long strides into the water, the salty waves splashing my face.

“Throw her in! Throw her in!” Brooklyn chanted in the distance.

“Are you really about to throw me into the water?” I asked, trying to put on a sweet front, but my laughter was taking over.

“I’m really about to throw you in the water,” he said, slapping my ass and launching me into the air before my body crashed into the salty water.

I raised myself to the surface, wiped my eyes and scanned the area. He was going down. I saw him walking towards Brooklyn, just a few feet away. I started running in his direction; he looked over his shoulder and gave me a smile before I threw myself on his back. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and started flinging myself back and forth, trying to force him to lose his balance. The only reaction I got was laughter as he grabbed onto the back of my knees. He was like a solid brick wall. The next minute he was flinging both of us to the left and into the water. When we both went under, he wrapped his arms and legs around my body for just a second before releasing me, allowing me to get air. When I surfaced, all I could hear was Brooklyn’s laughter.

“You think that’s funny little missy?” I asked as I headed in her direction with my arms out.

“Ryker help!” she squealed as she ran towards him.

Ryker lifted her above his head, both of his hands on her waist, and listened to her laughter, laughing right along with her, my heart about to explode out of my chest.

“Are you a good swimmer, Brooklyn?” Ryker yelled, but watched as I nodded my head.

“I think it’s your turn!” Ryker yelled, and let out a bellowing laugh.

“NO! I mean yes! I mean no!” she giggled, and wiggled her legs with excitement.

“Is that a yes or a no?” Ryker asked.

“I think that’s a yes!” I said as I walked closer to them.

“Mom says yes!” Ryker laughed as he started to swing her forward just a little.

“Ok yes! Wait! Let me hold my nose! Ok, go!” she said, and then held her nose, filled her mouth with air and closed her eyes, waiting. Ryker swung her over his head and dropped her in the water. She sprung up out of the water and giggled.

“Do it again! Do it again! But higher this time!” she yelled, climbed into Ryker’s arms again, whether he liked it or not. But the smile on his face let me know he didn’t mind a bit.

“Oh, little dare devil are ya?” he said as he lifted her above his head again.

Attached.

 

 

Keep Your Guard Up

 

 

I decided to cook dinner for Natalie and Brooklyn after our day at the beach. Neither one of them had ever been to my apartment. It wasn’t much, a typical bachelor pad, but it was enough for me. I had never had a woman at my place, let alone a kid. My house was always my spot. My solitude. The feelings I felt creeping up on me was so different from anything before. Suddenly being alone all the time didn’t feel like it used to. I didn’t seek the silence anymore. I didn’t crave the solitude. I craved Natalie, everything about her. And Brooklyn, that was even more unexpected. I seemed to bond with her instantly. She wasn’t an annoying little kid, which is the way I saw other kids. She was cool and had an awesome sense of humor. And I had this uncontrollable urge to protect both of them.

I didn’t cook often, and didn’t cook very well, but I wanted to do this for them. So I was making the only thing I knew how to make: spaghetti. I knew Brooklyn liked Lasagna and I figured this was close enough. Besides, what kid doesn’t like spaghetti? Just as I was putting the garlic bread in the oven, my phone buzzed. I grabbed it, sure that it was Nat. But it was Cain. I didn’t want to answer it; I didn’t want him to ruin my mood. But I also knew how fucking persistent he was.

“Hello,” I said, slamming the oven door closed.

“Hey, man,” Cain said, sounding somber, sparing me of his usual overbearing tone.

“What’s wrong with you? You sound pissy,” I said with a laugh as I searched for a fucking spoon. I really wasn’t good at this cooking shit.

“Just business shit. Crave was vandalized last night and the fucking contractors are dragging their asses,” he said, followed by a loud sigh.

“Vandalized? In that neighborhood?” I was surprised.

“Some fucker decided to spray paint the building last night after we closed.”

“Do you have cameras installed yet?”

“Of course,” he said with a grumble.

“Probably some stupid kids,” I said, trying to cook and talk at the same time. I don’t know how people did this shit all the time.

“It was Johnson,” Cain said, and then I heard what sounded like a door slamming.

“Are you sure? He’s kind of a fucking joke bro; you think he would tear your shit up?” I asked.

“I’m sure, Ryker,” he said flatly.

“Are you pressing charges against him?” I asked, although I knew better.

“You know it doesn’t work like that. I want you to punish him. Shut him down once and for all.”

“You’ll have to find someone else to shut him up dude, I’m out. How many fucking times do I need to tell you that?” I said, my neck getting stiff and my jaw starting to clench. I was sick of this fucking conversation.

“He’s crossing the line, Ryker. Just one fucking fight goddamn it!” he shouted into the phone.

I ended the call before I let myself argue with him. I wasn’t going to let him get in my head. I had to keep control. A text message came through a few seconds later.

Nat: We’re here, in the parking lot.

Me: Apartment 2018

Nat: I know. Ok, I’m probably being paranoid. But there’s a hummer parked next to me, and it’s giving me a weird feeling. Just some guy sitting in it, I can feel him staring at me.

I didn’t bother replying, I ran to the front door, jerking it open and bolting down the stairs, trying to find Nat’s SUV in the crowded parking lot. I spotted a black hummer pulling through faster than it should have and I scanned the parking lot, trying to find them, my nerves putting my stomach in knots. Every second felt like a lifetime. But then I saw them.

“Thank God,” I mumbled as I slowed my sprint to a jog, watching Natalie open the back door for Brooklyn.

Once I got to her car, I grabbed her face quickly and slammed my lips against hers, then kissed her nose, and her lips again, allowing my nerves to leave my body.

“Are you ok?” Nat asked as she rested her hand on my forearm that was still close to her face, then glanced down at Brooklyn who was standing there, staring at me, her eyes wide, with a huge grin on her face.

“Are you ok?” I whispered, and then looked in all directions.

“We’re fine,” she assured me.

“We’ve been here forever,” Brooklyn chimed in, “but momma was busy on her phone. I told her our dinner would get cold if we didn’t hurry, but she kept saying one minute Brookie, just one more minute,” she said, giving me the play by play.

As we started up the stairs, Brooklyn was a few steps ahead so I took the opportunity to talk to her without Brooklyn being in ear shot.

“Did something happen?” I asked, needing to know she was ok, that they were both ok.

“No, I’m sure I was just being paranoid. Being a cop’s daughter, I always assume the worst,” she said with a nervous laugh. “It’s kind of ingrained in me.”

“This one?” Brooklyn yelled ahead of us as she stood in front of my apartment door.

“That’s the one, go on in,” I said, and she opened the front door as we walked in behind her.

“I’m sure it was nothing,” she said with a genuine smile as she looped her arm through mine.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re right,” I lied. I knew better.

“Brookie, manners,” Natalie said with her stern mom voice as Brooklyn darted around my place, opening and closing doors.

“I’m just checking it out, momma,” she said as she opened the door to my spare room.

“What is that?” Brooklyn squealed as she ran inside.

“Brooklyn!” Natalie scolded.

“It’s ok,” I whispered, kissing her forehead and patting her ass before I followed Brooklyn into the room.

“That’s a punching bag.” I laughed as Brooklyn wrapped her arms and legs around the bag and tried to swing herself.

“You punch it?” she asked as she slapped it with both of her hands.

“Yes ma’am,” I said, and grinned at Natalie, who was standing in the doorway, watching, smiling.

“Will you show me how?” she asked, and I looked at Natalie for permission. She simply nodded her head.

“Ok. But we only punch for exercise, we don’t punch people,” I said.

“What if they hit me first?” she asked, and I looked at Natalie for an answer. Somehow I didn’t think ‘you beat their ass if they touch you’ was appropriate.

“If someone hits you first, you defend yourself, honey.” Oh, thank God. I was hoping she wasn’t going to give her that bull shit about walking away and find an adult. That shit didn’t work. You had to stick up for yourself.

“Got it,” Brooklyn said, giving her mom a thumbs up. “Ok, show me how to punch.”

“Ok, first you put your hands into fists, like this.” I crouched down to her level. I showed her, and she did exactly the same.

“But you have to keep your guard up, put your arms up like this, and then imagine the spot on the bag you want to hit, do you see it?”

“I see it,” she said with her fists guarding her face, looking at the bag with so much intensity.

“And then you punch, like this,” I said as I threw my fist slowly into the bag.

“Like this?” Brooklyn said as she threw her little fist into the bag.

BOOK: The Hurricane
13.1Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Manner of Amy's Death by Mackrodt, Carol
Three Stories by J. M. Coetzee
Repeat After Me by Rachel DeWoskin
Wolfsong by Klune, TJ
Slow Burn by Julie Garwood
Escorted by Claire Kent
Last Night by James Salter