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“I don’t know. Part of me feels like I owe her a lot. She adopted me when I was a little kid, barely two years old, and that’s something not a lot of people would have done. I’ve always felt like I owe her because of that, but I know she uses that against me sometimes. It’s just another thing for her to manipulate me with.” I stop picking at the table, tracing a swirl on the pocked surface with my finger instead. “I don’t know. It’s complicated.”
Ransom makes a quiet noise in the back of his throat.
“I know what it’s like to have a shitty parent,” he says. “Our mom was a fucking saint, but our dad? He was a complete piece of shit. He—” He breaks off, huffing a breath through his nose. “Let’s just say I know what it’s like to have someone who should be on your side treat you like shit and manipulate you.”
I stare at him from across the table, surprised he told me any of that. It reminds me a little of what Malice said to me in the car that day we went to my mom’s house. About how love can be weaponized against you.
I’m starting to get a clearer picture of these men, a better understanding of where they came from, and I’m surprised that I feel myself actually relating to them and understanding them.
The waitress comes back and drops off our food, and we both take a few bites of our burgers, sitting in a surprisingly comfortable silence for a moment before I set down my food and murmur, “That man you killed that night… he really killed your mom?”
I glance up in time to see something pass through Ransom’s eyes, a flash of pain seems to darken the bright blue-green of his irises. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, and he nods.
“Yeah. He did.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“Thanks.” He blows out a breath, puffing out his cheeks a little. “I’m sorry you had to see what we did to him, but he fucking deserved it. And if that’s the kind of clientele that brothel served, I’m not sorry it burned to the ground either. Had you worked there long?”
A flush creeps up my cheeks. “No. It… it was my first time. Not just my first time getting paid, but my first timeever. Or it would’ve been if you all hadn’t come in and…”
Ransom’s face darkens, his brows pulling together. “Well then, I’m even more glad we killed that son of a bitch. Your first time shouldn’t be with a man like that.”
My heart lurches. There was something almost… protective about the way he said those words, like he really means them. I’m not sure what to say in response, or even how to feel about the protective note in his voice, so I don’t say anything, and silence falls for a moment as we continue to eat.
Maybe Ransom can sense that the conversation has gotten too heavy for me, or maybe he wants to change the subject for himself, but when he speaks again, his tone is lighter, a grin tugging at his full lips.
“So, how did you like your first motorcycle ride?”
I smile, relieved by the change of topic. “I liked it. More than I thought I would.”
He chuckles, the sound deep and warm. “You’ve got a wild side, I see.”
I snort softly. “I don’t know about that. It was the first time I’ve ever done anything like that before.”
“Me, I’m an adrenaline junkie,” he admits. “I love going fast and riding the edge. There are some mountains north of here that have these crazy narrow roads, and you can go a hundred miles an hour easy.”
“That sounds terrifying.”
He grins wider, biting into a fry. “And fun as hell. Those are the rides that get your heart racing. But then you have the longer, smoother ones that are just you and a stretch of flat road, and that has its own kind of thrill.”
We spend the rest of the meal talking easily, and when we finally finish eating, Ransom pays the check. Then we head outside and climb back on his bike so he can take me home.
This time, it’s a little less terrifying than it was before.
A few minutes later, we roar up to my building, and when he cuts the engine, we both get off the bike. A look falls over Ransom’s face as we stand on the sidewalk under a streetlamp, and he takes a step closer to me.
“Hey, I gotta ask… what happened with you and Mal and Vic before I came back tonight?”
Oh my god.
This has been such a long night that it’s hard to believe how much has happened in the space of several hours. It feels like days ago that I was in the library finishing up my paper, and the parts of the evening where I was chased down the street, saw Malice fucking a woman, and then ate a late night burger with Ransom all seem like they exist in completely separate dimensions, as if they couldn’t possibly have all happened to the same person.
“Nothing,” I whisper, shrugging evasively. “I walked in and saw Malice with a woman, and then Victor came up behind me.”
Even as the words are coming out of my mouth, I know they’re not exactly true. It wasn’tnothing.
I clear my throat, my body seeming to flush all over at the memory of Victor speaking low in my ear. I’ll never forget the way he sounded, analyzing and describing the physiological response I was having to the sight of Malice brutally fucking that woman in the living room.
