Ready or Not (The Love Game Book 4) by Elizabeth Hayley (i wanna iguana read aloud txt) 📗

before Kari’s parental rights had been terminated and the Holts had gotten the opportunity to make me their son officially. But that didn’t mean they weren’t a million times better than the “parents” who’d created me.

“Yeah, well, that doesn’t mean a whole lot to me.”

“I feel like this time is different. I can’t really explain it.”

“You don’t have to.”

Melissa sighed heavily. “Look, you’re a grown man, so I’m not going to tell you what to do or how to live your life. Your decisions are yours to make. But just remember you have to live with those decisions. I’m not saying to do this for Kari. She doesn’t deserve that. I’m just saying maybe you should consider that talking to her might offer some closure for you.”

I doubted it, but I understood what Melissa was saying. It wasn’t in them to shut someone out because of their mistakes, especially if that person had found their way and was on a good path. And while I liked to think I could offer the same forgiveness, I knew it wasn’t true. Some damage was irreparable.

“I’ll think about it,” was all I could offer her.

“That’s all I’m asking. You know one day there’ll be a time when you don’t have this chance, and I wouldn’t want you to have any regrets when that day comes. You don’t want to leave anything left unsaid, you know?”

“Yeah.”

Emily had said something similar too once. That life was too short to cut people out of it, and that time wasn’t promised to anyone. It had been more of a general observation toward the end; she hadn’t been talking about Kari when she’d said it. But that didn’t stop me from drawing the connection myself.

“If she calls again, I’ll try to answer.”

“Okay. I’ll let you go. Love you.”

“Love you guys too.”

Neither of us spoke nor hung up.

After a moment, Melissa said, “And Rans, don’t be a stranger, okay?”

“Okay. You guys neither.”

The words we always said to each other at the end of our conversations were more of a closing than an actual promise. As much as we all wanted to be close again, we knew the memories we shared would never let that happen.

Chapter Eight

R A N S O M

I pulled up to the three-story colonial and double-checked the address before putting my truck in park and getting out. It was ten o’clock at night, and the last thing I wanted was to show up at the wrong house dressed as a police officer. You could really scare the shit out of people like that. I wouldn’t make that mistake twice.

I could hear music as I approached the stone pathway to the entrance. It was a nice neighborhood, which always made me feel more comfortable. Not that I was afraid to go to bad ones. I’d been in enough of them throughout my life to hold my own, but there was something that made me feel slightly uneasy about stripping in one.

It was like taking my clothes off increased my vulnerability. Maybe a group of women would hold me hostage, bound and naked until someone agreed to pay…well, the ransom. The ridiculousness of it all was too much to think about, let alone actually live.

It didn’t take long for a woman to answer the door, and she had a group of ladies behind her. I’d been told it was a surprise forty-fifth birthday party, so I hadn’t expected it to be as rowdy as it seemed to be. I was aware that forty-five wasn’t technically old, but I figured it would be tame compared to most of the twenty-something parties I typically worked.

“Someone called about a neighborhood disturbance,” I said. “I think you ladies better keep it down in here.”

The music blared so loudly, I wasn’t sure they could hear me.

A desperate housewife in leopard print approached me, curling her red hair with a finger. “Who called? Was it that bitch across the street?”

“I’m not at liberty to say,” I said, guessing she wanted me to play along, before taking a few steps inside and closing the door behind me. “This your house?” I put my thumbs in my belt and leaned back casually, broadening my shoulders and chest.

“It’s mine,” said a brunette who’d approached from behind her.

“And it’s her birthday,” said another, “so don’t be too hard on her.”

“What seems to be the problem, Officer?” the birthday girl asked, her voice low like she was the one trying to be seductive.

It always struck me as odd that women were so turned on by men in uniform, especially when I took it off so quickly.

“The problem,” I said, stepping a bit closer to her, “is that this party is getting out of hand, and if you don’t settle down, I’m going to have to take matters into my own hands.” I removed my handcuffs and let them dangle seductively from my finger.

All the women screamed, and a few came running in from where they’d been pouring drinks in the kitchen.

“Take it off!” one yelled as she held up a red Solo cup that had the name Sleazy Samantha written on it in marker.

It made me ask to see the other cups: Dirty Denise, Raunchy Rachel, and Erotic Eve—which seemed oddly worse than the others, given the biblical allusion—were some of them, along with the birthday girl, Wild Willow.

I took Willow’s hand and put one half of the cuffs around her wrist.

She squealed happily while the rest of her friends hollered excitedly.

“Are you married, Officer?” she asked as I took her other hand and brought it behind her so I could cuff it to the other.

“I don’t think that’s an appropriate question to ask the person arresting you.”

Women loved when I played along and became a figure in their fantasy. I could understand it in theory, but it always felt a little weird to actually participate in the role play even though that was what I was there for. Well, that and to take off my clothes.

I