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All three of their heads snap my way and I laugh.
“What? I’m curious.”
Ransom pins me with a fixed expression. “Why?”
“Why not? I’ve played your game three times now. Do I not have the right to ask?”
“Do you need an excuse to ask what you want to know?”
“Do you need to sound so condescending when you ask such a question?”
“Do we need to put you two in time-out, alone, in the dark?”
I glare at Beretta, but when Ransom simply laughs, I relax, even though I’m positive I’ve missed an inside joke.
A smirk covers my lips. “I don’t think he could hang with me that long.”
“Why, you all about girly, crybaby shit?” Beretta teases.
I look away, my eyes widening in mockery of my own damn self. “Yeah, that’s me.”
“Is it not?” Ransom wonders.
I shake my head.
“So, you’re stone-cold then?” A hint of disbelief, or maybe it’s disgust, deepens his voice. “No fire, no soul?”
“Sure, you can say that.” I shrug carelessly. “Being all deep and devoted is senseless.”
“I’m not buying it.” Ransom frowns.
“It’s true. It messes with your head, and it’s all downhill from there.”
“You’ve been fucked over then.” A shadow of annoyance slips over him. “Loved and let go?”
“Hell no.” I laugh. “And I never will.”
“So you’re scared?”
My gaze slices to his, narrowing.
He gets in my face, so I hop off of the truck and stand before him. His eyes search mine and a low huff leaves him. “Yeah, you’re terrified of what would happen if you opened your pretty little eyes to more, aren’t you?”
“I’m not scared, I’m smart.”
“You think so, huh?” he scoffs. “What, mommy and daddy not love you enough?”
“Spoken like a scorned asshole.” I tip my head. “What, desperate for something you don’t have at home?”
His eyes turn to slate, hard and impenetrable.
I think I struck a nerve.
“Okay, yeah.” He nods, detached. “I’ve got mommy, daddy, fucked-up sibling issues like the next blue-collar bastard, but tell me, Jameson, what’s the point of this fucked-up world if you have no one in it?” His words drip of cold disdain, but something deeper strains beyond the surface. “Someone to lean on, to depend on, who can depend on you?”
I’m already shaking my head before he’s done speaking. “What a fairy-tale world you speak of. You’re setting yourself up for failure, thinking like that.”
“And you’re running straight to misery by not.”
“I won’t waste my life bleeding for someone else when I don’t even bleed for my damn self.”
His laugh is as cold as his eyes. “So, you cut yourself off from all that makes you human, like a true ice princess?” He slips closer, his tone lower. “How pathetic.”
“Pathetic is to love someone so much that when they’re no longer yours, you buy a one-way ticket to the bottom of the fucking ocean,” I seethe. “That is pathetic.”
He blanches, his face falling as he takes me in.
I hold back a swallow and straighten my shoulders.
Fuck him.
He licks his lips, creases forming along his forehead as the pieces fall into place. “Jameson...”
“Like I said.” I purse my lips. “Love makes you weak.”
A heavy sense of uncertainty clouds his features. “That’s an unfair judgment.”
“Yeah, well.” I grab my bag off the ground and step toward Arsen’s Camaro. “Me and my sister were the ones screwed in the end, so... kind of feels like I’m allowed to be a bitch about it.”
I climb inside and slam the door.
Ransom is a dumbass.
Everything he said is what’s wrong with this world.
People allow themselves to fall for such feeble ideals so carelessly that when they’re hit with the unexpected and uncontrollable feelings that come hand in hand, their deepest regrets follow.
Unruly emotion always leads to irrational actions.
It’s why I’m perfectly apathetic, agreeable to an arranged marriage, and looking forward to a contractual future rather than a precarious one.
When no one is looking, I slip a Xanax under my tongue and savor the chalky taste as it slips down my throat.
Feelings can go fuck themselves and so can the boys who shouldn’t be able to bring them out of me.
This time, when they take me to my car, it’s in the school parking lot, a note stuck under the windshield, one Ransom takes it upon himself to read, tear in half, and toss through my open window once I’ve climbed inside.
He pauses there beside me, waiting for me to pick up its pieces, but I don’t.
I wait to read it when they are as good as gone.
Come by for a nightcap.
~ Scott
I take a deep breath... and head his way.
He’s on his balcony when I pull in, so I start up the spiral staircase at the edge of the garden that leads to the entrance of his room. The place is basically a New York-style flat with a living room, kitchen and all.
It’s a singular, large, and wide-open space with glossy gray flooring and matching beams running up the walls every four feet or so, the entire thing made up of black glass windows you can see out, but not in. It’s extremely modern and screams bachelor. And his parents added it just for him.
