The Games We Play

By Renea Porter

He taught me how to keep my emotions in check and how the outside world is a cruel place. He said there was no such thing as love, because love hurts people, and it makes people weak.

He said I wasn't weak.

My whole world changed when I met Ryan. He made me feel different, in a good way. As our friendship progressed so did my feelings. Feelings I wasn't supposed to have. And I wasn't sure they'd be reciprocated. After a stint in jail, it only made his heart harder.

But I was always the one there, to pick up the pieces. I just wasn't sure how long I'd keep doing it. I was just a dumb girl in love with a guy that I couldn't have

• Language: English
• Publisher: Renea Porter
• Release date: Feb 6, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386807346

Renea Porter

Renea Porter is best known for writing realistic stories with realistic characters. Her stories may even cause you to shed a tear or two. She mainly writes New Adult and Contemporary Romances. However, she's not afraid to venture into other genre's like Paranormal Romance. She enjoys spending time with her husband of fourteen years, and step son. She calls Pennsylvania home, but loves to travel and try new things. In her free time you can catch her reading books, watching reality tv, and baking.

Book preview

1

PRESENT

I think you should be the one to go pick Ryan up when he gets out, Sebastian tells me as he leans against the bar I’m currently cleaning off before my shift ends. He’s getting out at nine in the morning. I don’t think the guys should be the ones picking him up. After all, you grew up with him. And he’s your best friend.

I smile. Thanks, Sebastian. I appreciate it. It means a lot you told me. You know I’ll be there with bells on.

He taps the bar with his fingers. No problem, Corinne. I think it’s only fair it’s you. You know I’m always looking out for you. Let me pay my tab so you can close up. I’ll wait outside and make sure you make it to your car safely.

Okay. Thanks. I’ll meet you out front.

Sebastian nods.

Ever since Ryan went to prison five years ago, Sebastian stepped in and has made sure I was okay, getting to my car safely at night. It’s convenient since the Deathmatch Motorcycle Crew are practically next door. Sebastian is the best one of the crew. The rest are assholes and they hate my guts.

After making sure the bar is clean, I place the chairs upside down on the tables so the cleaning crew can clean.

In the back, I swipe my badge through the reader to clock out. Grabbing my purse from behind the bar, I head out where I find Sebastian waiting, leaning against my car, arms crossed, ankles locked, and a smirk on his face. Memories of our previous night’s sexcapades play in my mind and I smile back at him.

I move to pull the car door open when I meet Sebastian’s gray blues. Are you sure you don’t want to enjoy one more night before we call this quits? He flashes his panty melting dimples at me.

I’m sure. I think.

Last night I told Sebastian we had to stop our no strings attached sex. Ryan is getting out and I really don’t need him to know. Ryan has always been protective of me, like an older brother. Hell, he went to prison for me.

Well, you can’t blame me for trying.

I chuckle. I appreciate the effort. Good night.

Night. He watches as I pull away.

Fuck, it’s hard quitting a man who makes me feel good in bed. A man I shouldn’t give up for the sake of Ryan fucking Hensley. He’s like a drug I can’t say no to.

Within ten minutes, I arrive home, an apartment, I was lucky enough to land six months ago. It’s more than I can afford, but I make it work with all the extra shifts bartending at Saints Bar. It’s a two bedroom, one bath. I rented it with the implication of Ryan staying with me. He’s going to need a place to stay for sure. Plus, I can keep an eye on him.

In the bathroom, I shed my clothes and step into the hot shower, letting the hot water ease my tense muscles. Moving my neck from side to side, I let the water massage it and then soap up my body and rinse off. Once I’m done, I pull on my plush robe. My feet ache, my back hurts, and I’m so ready to slip into bed.

Thoughts of Ryan come flooding back to my brain. Has he missed me? I know I miss my best friend, if I can even still call him that. So much has changed in the past five years. The bigger question is will the feelings I’ve always had for him come rushing back?

I’m a different person than I used to be. At least I like to think I am. Yet he changed me in so many ways it was hard to see where one of us started and the other ended. We were one.

2

CORINNE – Age 10

He’s my religion because I worship every word he speaks. He’s like an old soul, wise beyond his years. I soak up his knowledge every time I’m in his presence. I follow every word he says. Sometimes it gets me in trouble. If he tells me to jump in the mud, I do it. Actually, I did do it.

With both feet.

Without question.

Because it’s fun. And what else would a ten-year-old be doing on a dreary day? Splashing the muddy water around makes me laugh. Something I haven’t done in a while is laugh.

Ryan then kicks up a huge splash and gets it all over my clothes. I do it right back at him and we chase each other around trying to get it on the other. I love those moments I share with him. It’s rare to see him smile or laugh, too.

Now look at you. A goddamn mess, my mom scolds me, before jerking me to the bathroom. She angrily pulls my clothes off me while tears stream down my cheeks. How many times do I have to tell you not to play in the mud?

When you’re ten there isn’t much to do. Plus, I was old enough to know to keep myself scarce from my mom and stepdad. All I ever did was make her angry at me.

After my bath, I step out of the room and feel a slap across my face, curtesy of my stepdad. Listen to your mother. Now go grab me a fucking beer. He shoves me.

I just want to curl up and die. It’s not like they’d miss me or anything. They’d probably be happy to get rid of me. Retrieving a beer from the fridge, I hurry to hand it to Trace. I always smell alcohol on his breath.

Now, get out of my sight, Mom says with a stern voice.

Gladly, I think to myself. I don’t want to go outside and get dirty again. But I go out to sit on the porch because my mom hates me. She doesn’t love me. I carefully sit on the porch swing, burying my face in my hands. It still stings from the hard slap. He hates the sight of me because I’m not his kid. When I hear footsteps approaching, I know it’s Ryan Hensley from across the street without even looking. We’ve only been friends for about a month.

Want to go for a walk? he asks, standing in front of me. His dark hair is styled into a low mohawk.

Shrugging, I say, I guess so, with my head bowing.

Once we get out of sight of the house we walk down to Haines pond, where I’m not allowed without an adult. But we go anyway.

Ryan picks up a handful of rocks and throws each one into the water and it makes a splash sound. Your dad hit you again?

Yeah. Tears threaten to stream, but I blink them back. I don’t want him to see me cry.

Do you cry every time he hits you? Ryan’s eyes squint against the sun.

Yeah. It’s hurts so bad. I try to touch my cheek but it stings. Tears eventually do fall. I can’t help it and wipe them away as they come down.

You know what you need to do?

I finally look up at him. What?

Stop crying. Shut off your emotions and he won’t feel so powerful.

That’s easier said than done. I hang my head, pulling my knees into my chest to bury my face.

Ryan is facing me now. If you have to cry, let it out where no one will see you. Come here to the pond and no one will bother you.

It’s worth a shot. Okay, I’ll try.

Once you have that down, then you don’t show fear. He thinks you’re weak. Men like him prey on the weak. And you’re not weak, are you?

Right.

Ryan shoves me. You’re weak.

I stand. I’m not weak.

Yes, you are. He shoves me again.

I’m not weak. I shove him back.

I can’t hear you, Corinne.

My fists ball at my sides. I’m not weak!

Exactly right. You’re not weak.

I know he’s only doing this to make me tougher. Even though I’m not old enough to stand against grown adults like my mom and stepdad. I know I have other mechanisms to use against them. Ry showed me, because this isn’t the first time he’s offering me one of his life lessons.

I’m not sure how Ryan knows as much as he does. I take Ryan’s words to heart. As I lie in bed later that night, I recite what he told me. Mom’s says he’s a troublemaker, but what does she know?

All I know is he’s my truest friend and he never sugarcoats anything. He’s real and says exactly what he thinks. We’ve become pretty close since he moved in. I was the first to welcome him to the neighborhood and offered him half of my cookie I got from the neighbor lady.

His mom and dad fight a lot, like mine. So, we have that in common. He’s also an only child like me, too. He’s like the older brother I’ve always wanted.

3

PRESENT

As I sip my coffee, there’s a knock on the door. Who is it? I ask, through the door since the peep hole is up too high for me to see through.

Open up, it’s Megan.

I swing the door open. Hey. It’s early. I hug her.

She walks in, her shoulder-length blond hair swinging over her shoulders. First, I need caffeine. She points to my mug.

I make her a mug while she leans against my counter. I just came over to see how you’re doing. Are you nervous? How long has it been since you saw Ryan?

A little over four years. And yes, I’m nervous. I don’t think he’s expecting me since Sebastian told me last night to go pick him up. He thought I should with everything we’ve been through.

You should. When are you going to pick him up?

I look at the clock hanging on the wall and then back at her. Like thirty minutes. Oh, God, my stomach is knotting up just thinking about it.

Megan sets her mug down and places both of her hands on my shoulders. You can do this. I know you think things will be different when you see him, but I bet things pick up right where you left off.

I blow out a deep breath. You’re right. It’s not like I’m going to fall in love with him when I see him.

She nods. Yeah. Sure. She doesn’t believe me.

I’m pathetic, aren’t I?

No. You’re just in love with a man you can’t have. He’s never been emotionally available. And I’d hate to see you get hurt.

I push the thoughts from my mind. I should go. I take the last sip of my coffee and grab my handbag.

Go, I’ll lock up. She hugs me again and practically pushes me out the door.

She doesn’t know how much I love her. I make a mental note to tell her soon. She’s been in my life for nearly four years. She’s been my rock since Ryan went away. I honestly don’t know where I’d be without her support. I step out into the pouring rain, pushing the lever of my umbrella up to race to my car.

After two hours of driving, the sign for the Maryland Penitentiary alerts me I need to make a left at the next exit from the highway. Nervousness settles in me. Entering the prison site, I park right outside the gate and get out of the car with the umbrella protecting me from the rain. I want to see his face when he sees me. And I want a silent moment to drink him in. Will he look the same?

Several minutes pass before the gates click and open. He comes into view and I stand a little taller, smiling as he greets me with a barely there grin. If you didn’t know him, you wouldn’t see it. But I’ve known Ryan forever. He’s a bit more muscular than I remember, his dark hair falls loosely to the side, and his beard and mustache are neatly trimmed. He does a light jog over to me.

Get in, out from the rain, he says, reaching for the passenger door of the car. God, I’ve missed him so much. The man is all muscle. I guess all you can do is sleep, eat, and work out in prison. Fuck, he looks so much hotter. My mouth is suddenly dry.

I slip inside the car, shoving the umbrella in the back.

Sup, girl? He wraps a heavily tattooed arm around my shoulders.

I close my eyes, allowing him to hold me for a second before pulling away. Even being apart for five years, my feelings remain the same. Feelings he’ll never know about. Feelings I was taught not to have. He was my teacher and I was his student, figuratively speaking.

Hey. I meet his chocolate brown eyes with amber flecks. My heart beats a little faster in his presence.

Hey. He brushes a strand of hair out of my face, sending a shiver down my spine.

I hope you don’t mind I came to pick you up.

No, it’s fine. I’m glad I got to see your face when I came out.

I curse the butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

Starting the car back up, I pull out of the parking lot and head back onto the highway. I notice Ryan looking around in the car. Let me guess. It’s an 89.

Yeah, I got her about four years ago. At least if she croaks I know who can work on it. I smirk, remembering he knows a thing or two about cars.

He watches the scenery as we head to my little apartment. So, what’s new?

Nothing’s changed since you’ve been gone. Nothing ever changes around here.

I know. But are you okay?

I swallow a hard lump. Am I? I mean, I have mixed feelings about him being out. Does it mean things will go back to the same ole? This town will suck on your soul. I don’t know why they call it Chance, Maryland. Population three hundred and seventy-seven. There are several towns that make up the Chesapeake Bay surrounding Deal Island, Dames Quarters with Chance sandwiched in between, as well as Wenona and Little Deal Island. It’s basically a beach haven, but it’s mostly hidden and doesn’t get many vacationers. It’s the best kept secret of Maryland.

I’ve been fine. I manage.

The boys giving you any trouble? he asks, referring to his motorcycle crew, Deathmatch.

Nah. We reach the apartment in two hours. Shutting the car off, we walk around to the side door and enter my first-floor apartment.

Yeah, I heard you got a new place, Ryan says. Inside he looks around. It’s nice and definitely you.

My face scrunches. What’s that supposed to mean? I drop my keys and my handbag on the counter and move to grab food out of the fridge.

It’s small, white, and clean, the way you like things.

He knows me well.

That’s me, I say with a little more bite than intended. You hungry?

I could eat. He hops up on a barstool to watch me work in the kitchen.

With the grease, hot and popping in the pan, I add the chicken in and get started on the mashed potatoes and a veggie. I pile his plate high, placing it in front of