Ryker (The Powers That Be Book 4) Read online

  Ryker

  The Powers That Be

  Book 4

  Harper Bentley

  Check out other titles by Harper Bentley:

  The Powers That Be series:

  Gable (The Powers That Be Book 1)

  Zeke (The Powers That Be Book 2)

  Loch (The Powers That Be Book 3)

  CEP series:

  Being Chased (CEP #1)

  Unbreakable Hearts (CEP #2)

  Under the Gun (CEP #3) coming March 2016!

  Serenity Point series:

  Bigger Than the Sky (Serenity Point Book 1)

  Always and Forever (Serenity Point Book 2)

  True Love series:

  Discovering Us (True Love #1)

  Finding Us (True Love #2)

  Finally Us (True Love Book 3)

  True Love: The Trilogy: The Complete Boxed Set

  http://harperbentleywrites.com/

  Copyright © 2015 Harper Bentley

  Digital Edition: December 2015

  Editors: Franca, Mel & Sam

  Cover image licensed by www.shutterstock.com

  Cover Photo design by Jada D’Lee Designs

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locations is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior express, written consent of the author

  Dedication

  To anyone who’s ever

  had their heart broken

  Hang in there, lovely

  You never know what’s

  just around the corner!

  Table of Contents

  1—Dual Meet

  2—Takedown

  3—Escape

  4—Near Fall

  5—Penalty

  6—Face Off

  7—Decision

  8—Reversal

  9—Exposure

  10—Major Decision

  11—Danger Position

  12—Predicament

  13—Flagrant Misconduct

  14—Neutral Position

  15—Stalemate

  16—Offensive

  17—Pinned

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  1—Dual Meet

  “I’m a whore.”

  Silence.

  “I’m a big, humongous slut,” I groaned into my phone.

  Finally an answer. “No, you’re not,” my best friend Sharee Leppart assured with a sleepy chuckle.

  “I am,” I said with conviction. “I’m also a skank.”

  “Frankie, it’s not that big a deal.”

  “I’m a total hussy. A floozy. An absolute bimbo. A whore!” I dropped my head against the steering wheel and closed my eyes.

  “Look, practically everyone’s had a one-night stand.”

  “Not me,” I whispered. I heard her sigh before I added, “And not with the man of their dreams and all the while thinking it was special.”

  God. What the hell had I been thinking? God!

  I’d waited two years for him. Two years.

  And it finally happened.

  I’d finally had him.

  And it had been everything I thought it’d be and more.

  He’d kissed me like I’d never been kissed before.

  Then he’d made love to me as if I’d been the most precious thing he’d ever held in his arms.

  He’d lain next to me afterward still holding me as we drifted off, his lips at my temple giving me sweet kisses.

  We’d awakened a few hours later and he’d fucked me. Hard.

  It was hot.

  It was dirty.

  He’d given me so many orgasms I lost count.

  And I loved it, every last minute of it.

  It was everything I knew it’d be.

  And I’d been completely and utterly happy.

  Afterward my bubble had burst.

  “Thanks, darlin’. That was great. Gonna get a beer then I’ve gotta get some sleep. Leave your number on the fridge. I’ll give you a call.”

  No temple kiss.

  No squeeze of his arms.

  Nothing.

  I’d been dismissed.

  Just… like… that.

  He’d gotten out of bed and I’d stared at him in all his naked glory. When he’d turned his back to me to pull a pair of boxer briefs from his dresser, I’d found myself gaping at the tattoo emblazoned across his back, the one I’d always wanted to get a closer look at. And what I’d seen was a very scary grinning Grim Reaper. I’d studied the art for a moment seeing that there were two dead gladiators lying at the Reaper’s feet, their faces skeletons like the Reaper’s (yeesh), and he was battling yet another warrior whose face was just as scary and skeletal and intense as his.

  I’d looked away and swallowed roughly, my throat hurting as I tried to keep the tears from coming. After he’d left, I’d gotten out of bed, dressed and slunk my way the hell out of his room, out of his house and into my car, not wanting to be noticed by anyone and not leaving my number.

  Now I was in my car at five-thirty a.m. talking to Sharee.

  “Where are you?” she asked.

  “Parked on the street in front of his house after having just taken the walk of shame.”

  She snorted. “It wasn’t a walk of shame. It was a walk of awesome, Frankie! You finally nailed Ryker Powers! You’ve wanted him forever!”

  I sat back staring out at the rainy almost-dawn watching the rain sliding in rivulets down my windshield.

  She just didn’t understand.

  I choked on a sob. “Ree, you don’t get it. That’s the father of my future children probably lying asleep in there right now after having fucked my brains out all night long! We’re supposed to get married, have three children—two boys and a girl, the boys older than the girl so they can protect their sister of course—and then we’re gonna grow old together!” My voice caught but I kept going. “And I’ve screwed it all up by jumping the gun! We were supposed to have a meet cute like in the old movies! Like, run into each other at a coffee shop and both grab for the sugar at the same time. After that we’d trade numbers and flirt for, like, a week. I’d lure him in with my womanly wiles and fabulous personality until he knew I was the one! After, we’d go on lots of amazing dates until he finally proposed at the top of the Great Wheel and I’d scream, ‘Yes!’ so loudly everyone on the ground would hear me and congratulate us when we got off it!” I sucked in several breaths before whispering, “Oh, my God. What have I done?” I dropped my head into my hand knowing I’d messed up royally.

  “Come home, Frankie.”

  She sounded a little put out which I’m sure she was. She was a realist. I was a dreamer. That’s why we were best friends, opposites attracting and all that. But I guess I’d pushed her too far this time.

  My head came up and I wiped away the tears that were the result of a dream lost. “All right,” I mumbled as I put my Camry in drive. “You want me to pick up pastries?” I sniffed.

  “Definitely.”

  Pulling away from the cute little house where inside my dream future
had died, I wiped away a few more tears that had somehow slipped by without my notice and drove off into the gray and dreary morning.

  ~*~*~*~

  After stopping by The Breakfast Nook to pick up the best pastries in all of Seattle, I headed back to Sharee and my apartment that was near Hallervan’s campus, the college I’d be starting second semester tomorrow. It was my last semester since I was set to graduate in May with a degree in secondary English education with a minor in PE.

  Last night’s party had been sort of a last hurrah for me before I got really serious about my career. When Ciara and Madison, friends from the basketball team, had called yesterday afternoon telling me I was going with them, that I had no choice and they’d be by at eight, I’d thought, what the hell. Sharee had had to go to her

  older sister’s wedding and I would’ve spent the evening alone, so I’d made myself

  up and followed the girls to the party.

  Once there, I’d had a blast, getting to hang out with friends I hadn’t seen in some time. And it was when I’d been in the backyard watching Ci and Mad own a couple football players at beer pong that I’d seen Ryker staring at me intensely from the patio and my breath had caught. He’d smiled at my wide-eyed look and headed my way. No, prowled was more like it, his long, powerful legs eating up the space between us like it’d been nothing, and, dear God, it’d been a sight to see.

  When he made it to me, he’d told me I was the most beautiful girl there, which had made me all melty inside that he’d think that (the alcohol hadn’t helped me see a pickup line when it’d been thrown right in my face). We’d talked for a bit about his wrestling and when he’d asked if I wanted to go somewhere quiet to talk, I’d jumped at the chance. Of course, we’d ended up in his room and all talking had ceased since our mouths had been perpetually fused from the moment we entered it, and I’d been thrilled, knowing my perfect future had been about to begin.

  Now as I pulled into the complex, I sighed knowing I’d screwed with fate last night. From the way he’d treated me just now, I knew that Ryker had probably thought I was a Ring Rat, girls that hung around wrestlers just wanting to sleep with them (and since there’d been tons of them at his party, why wouldn’t he?), and not someone he’d consider to be his future wife.

  And that hurt.

  “Hello, Francesca!” Mrs. Bertolini hollered from her patio which was above Sharee and my apartment. She came out every morning at seven in the dusty brown robe that had been her husband’s, to have her cup of coffee and smoke two Pall Malls before starting her day as the director of arts and crafts at the senior center downtown. She herself was eighty-two but still as spry as a spring chicken in all her five-foot-two, ninety-pound glory, and I guess she kept those seniors on their toes because I’d seen some of their artwork displayed at various restaurants in Seattle and even around campus. She’d been a fairly good artist and sculptor in her day, had even taught classes at UDub, but arthritis had gotten to her hands so she’d had to stop. She’d lived above us the three years we’d been there, having moved in after her husband had passed, and was as sweet as could be. She didn’t meddle but she did have an uncanny knack of knowing exactly what was going on with us. It was sometimes spooky how much she seemed to know, so much so that Sharee and I started thinking maybe she’d had a camera installed in our apartment and that’s where she got her information. But her advice was usually spot-on (whether we decided to take it or not) which still wasn’t any less eerie.

  “Hi, Mrs. Bertolini,” I said forcing a smile and giving her a small wave.

  She narrowed her always-alert electric blue eyes at me sensing something was wrong. “Bad night?”

  I shrugged as I shaded my eyes as I looked up at her. “Actually, great night. Bad morning.”

  She nodded like she understood which was ridiculous. “Aha.”

  “I’ve got some Breakfast Nook pastries. Would you like me to bring you any?” I called up.

  “No, dear. You and Sharee enjoy.”

  “All right. See you later,” I said as I started walking toward the hallway where my apartment and the elevator she used were.

  “Gotta play it smart if you want his eyes to open,” I heard her holler after me and I stopped for a beat before resuming my trek.

  “She’s eighty-two. How could she know?” I mumbled to myself with a frown thinking she was either psychic or just plain nuts. I decided I’d go with the latter for today and went inside to console myself with a few sugary pastries.

  ~*~*~*~

  “So, you gonna do it?” Sharee asked that night after we’d had dinner and were now watching some shitty reality TV show.

  I glanced at her from where I lay on the couch. “Why should I?”

  She threw her legs over the side of the chair and a half she was sitting in to face me. “Because he needs to know. And for your children’s future.”

  I gave her a pointed look. “He probably won’t remember me.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Frankie. It was just this morning. He so will.”

  I looked at the TV for a moment before cutting my eyes back to her. “What am I supposed to do? Show up there and be like, ‘Oh, hey, Ryker. I’m the chick you fucked all night long Saturday. Remember? So… wanna go out with me?’”

  “Yes! Exactly that! Go to his house tomorrow morning before class and talk to him. Invite him to coffee or something. He’ll see what a wonderful woman you are and fall madly in love with you. Then you can do the whole marriage, kids, future shit.” She threw a hand out flippantly and scrunched up her face as she looked back at the idiot family on TV fawning over the pregnant daughter as if she was the first woman in the history of mankind to ever carry a child. But that wasn’t why my roomie had gotten that look. No, it was that she’d just gone through a bad breakup and was a little down on love right now, so her giving me advice wasn’t her favorite thing to do right now, which made me appreciate it more that she had.

  “All right. I’ll do it. But if I get embarrassed in any way, you’re so taking me for drinks at O’Leary’s tomorrow night after my class.”

  “Done,” she mumbled, her focus back on the TV.

  I turned back also but my mind was on the next morning wondering if I should really go through with it. Oh, well, what could it hurt if I went by Ryker’s house? All he could say was no and my future with him would remain as bleak as it was now.

  No big deal.

  2—Takedown

  The next morning I was kind of a mess. I’d gotten up at six and since my first class wasn’t until ten I showered and shaved my legs… twice (shaved not showered). I exfoliated my entire body and after drying off, slathered my face in a mask. While it dried, I plucked my eyebrows and checked to see if I’d developed a mustache between last night and this morning. Hey, I was Italian. It was entirely possible. I next checked my legs for any hair I’d missed. There were no stragglers, so I next peeled, rinsed, dried and curled, dressed and made myself up. Thank goodness I’d beaten Sharee in Rock-Paper-Scissors when we first moved in and won the master bedroom with the en suite so I hadn’t wakened her with my raucous regimen. I took one last look in the mirror and was ready to go.

  I went to Sharee’s room and knocked lightly on her door. She was pre-law and didn’t have a class until tonight and even though I was risking her wrath at waking her up, I needed some assurance.

  “Pssst,” I summoned when I opened her door.

  “What,” she muttered into her pillow that she had her arms wrapped around as she lay on her stomach.

  “I just wanted to tell you I’m leaving. Wish me luck.”

  “Luck.” She shifted and pulled the pillow over her head. I chuckled because I knew that was my cue to leave since she was definitely not a morning person. As I closed the door, I heard her add, “Love you. It’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

  Sharee and I had been best friends since our sophomore year in high school. People often asked if we were sisters since we both had long brown hair and dark brown e
yes, and of course we always said we were because we were goofy that way. But I’d grown up in Texas and when my dad had been transferred to Seattle with the oil company he worked for, she and I had become fast friends since we both played basketball and ran track. She was nearly six feet tall and had excelled at both sports and I hadn’t done too poorly either. But where she’d played post in basketball and ran hurdles in track, I’d been a forward and had run the hundred meters since I was shorter. We’d made All-State in both sports and had been offered scholarships to play basketball at Hallervan where we were both All-Americans our first year. It’d been awesome until I’d blown out my knee our sophomore year and she’d broken her ankle our junior year which had ended both our athletic careers. Afterward, our teammates referred to us as the Gimp Sisters which we couldn’t dispute.

  I closed her door and blowing out a breath as I walked to the front door, decided to go find out if my dream future was to be.

  ~*~*~*~

  “What would you do?” I asked Gladys (yes, Gladys), Sharee and my other best friend from high school who was now in New York attending the Fashion Institute of Technology. She’d been an amazing designer even in high school, having made my prom dress our senior year which had been fabulous, and after three years at Hallervan, she’d been accepted to the Institute and was now following her dream hoping to become famous someday. We missed her but we talked so often, it was almost like she was here anyway.

  “I’d go for it, of course! Grow some fucking balls, Frankie!” she answered with a giggle. Where Sharee was the realist and I was the dreamer, Gladys had always been the crazy party girl up for anything and I’d known she’d say that.

  “Easy for you to say, Glad. You’re a blond bombshell packing a killer bod and fuck me eyes.”

  This made her giggle more. “Oh, Frankie. When will you realize how gorgeous you are? Sophia Loren’s got nothing on you, girl! This guy’d be a fool not to fall for you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “So you think Sharee was right? I should do this? Just go up, ring his doorbell and ask him out?”