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“I don’t think my balls have recovered yet, and it’s been over a decade,” Ransom quips, happy as can be, grinning as he stuffs forkfuls of eggs into his mouth. He’s shoveling in food faster than an industrial machine and already going for seconds.
“The twins I met when they thought they were hotshot hackers. Turns out that using a public computer to do nefarious deeds isn’t so smart, especially not when the public library had surveillance. Of course, that’s also how I found Alden—through a friend of mine in the justice system who keeps an eye out for exceptionally and potentially gifted youth who would do better in a real home instead of getting eaten alive by the justice system.”
Atlas and Orion—and I have to admit I really like their names—nod affectionately at Scarlet before giving each other wry looks.
“And Lennox—”
Lennox sets his fork down loudly. It seems he’s happy to tell his own story. “I thought that I was real good at carjacking. I heard about this old lady who had some classics stored in her garage. Well, I jacked one, alright. Not even half an hour later, there’s this old biddy standing on my doorstep, demanding her car back. I was sixteen at the time and not smart enough to cover my tracks. She just about gave my parents a heart attack when instead of calling the cops, she offered them an opportunity to send me to an expensive private school and then a full ride to college after that. She said talents like mine could be honed into something more worthy than petty theft. I have no doubt that if Scarlet hadn’t come round and made that offer, I’d be in jail by now.”
“She’s looked after us, all of us,” Orion says.
“Like her own kids,” Atlas adds.
Ransom lifts his glass of OJ. “Here’s to the best woman I know. She’s the sweetest granny on the outside, but she’s all hard steel surrounding the most beautiful heart on the inside.” He turns to me and, getting a full-on load of those piercing blues, pins me to my chair. “She really does want to make the world a better place. That’s why we’ve all been shoveling with her, tunneling through the dunghill. We’re still going. One day, maybe we’ll get through to the other side. We’re only six, plus all the men who contribute their time and efforts to help us, of course,” he quickly amends when one of the goons—I can’t keep them all straight—clears his throat. “Anyway, we’re just a few against a world of people who like to do bad things as if it’s going out of style. It’s way easier to do bad things than good, and righting that, or even offering a small correction, is a lifelong process.”
There’s a round of mumbled agreement to that, a clink of glasses which I don’t participate in, then everyone pounces like wolves on their plates, shoveling up food like crime isn’t the only thing going out of style.
I could say that it’s not proof enough. They’re stories, and while they were told with real feelings, the stories could have easily been rehearsed. I could say that I still don’t believe a word, but instead, I just eat my breakfast. It’s surprisingly good.
Even though I’m exhausted from last night, afraid for my family, and unnerved by the giant wrench thrown into the cogs of my life, I still have an appetite. I couldn’t shut my mind off long enough last night to fall asleep. It kept churning over what few options I had now, which made me think about the money and the good I myself could do with it. Good in the form of scholarships, help for people, charities, books, and providing my adoptive parents with the means to retire. They gave me the world, and I could be in a position to return the favor.
Thinking about that only made me think about my real parents. People I didn’t know. It’s hard for me to believe they were who Alden says they were. Hardened criminals—at least when it came to my birth father. He did horrible things, no doubt, and if Alden is correct, it means I have that blood running through my veins. It means the money I’d be signing off on is money that is dirty. Dirty, bloodstained, tear-stained—how could I justify that?
I don’t want to start getting into the dark cycle of my thoughts again, so instead, I focus on something else. Unfortunately, the first thing that comes to mind is Alden. He is sitting right beside me. Given that he’s the size of a small mountain, he’s hard to miss. He’s so visceral, so real, so big and manly and macho. And also incredibly annoying. His ego is the size of an iceberg. It’s already massive, and that’s just the ten percent I can see. I can’t imagine how much more obnoxious he can be. Plus, he’s a dirty rotten scoundrel of a kidnapper who fakes drowning so he can trick me into kissing him. That was a cheap shot, and his dingleberries got what they deserved.
