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As if he wasn’t even brave enough to tell me that he was jumping ship.
Even if it hadn’t had anything to do with me, and he just wanted his other life more, which I would kind of understand in some very reasonable and too understanding part of me because this is all a shock, and both a baby and I weren’t exactly supposed to insert ourselves into his life—a life where he made a good living playing out the role of what other people would assume was a villain, but damn, he and his brothers are basically my heroes—it would have been dang hard to hate him.
Yeah, cheese doodles with a side of curds.
Ransom is a big human. He’s a powerfully built man who looks outright brutish, and that’s before the scars. Of course, to me, he’s always been handsome and truly beautiful, but I could see why some people might not want to pass him on the same side of the street. I can see how he’d get a lot of looks and whispers and people actively trying not to look and whisper, yet making it all worse. He’s intimidating, and he’s done things I can only guess at—mostly online, but I have no idea what his life was even like before his granny. Technically, what he does is against the law. Big time. I guess that would make him the thug criminal people probably assume he is just at first glance.
But right now? Those smoke-gray eyes of his meet mine, and his face softens. There is not one harsh line or sad wrinkle there, not a tick of annoyance or a trace of anger. If anything, those rugged features are so soft that it looks like he’s made of mud, not granite. Nice mud. Hot mud. The kind of mud you want to slather all over your body and roll in and…well, you get it.
“Ayana?” The way my name rolls off his tongue—a question with so much sadness—hits me like a forceful slap, pushing the air out of my lungs. “You thought that I…that I left? For good? That I would just leave you and our baby?” He’s so absolutely astounded that I feel foolish now. Now I feel guilty again and more than bad.
My lips wobble, but I refuse to give my emotions the upper hand and turn into a big softie. I’m all firm on that decision, but when my eyes, which have dropped down to my feet, shoot back up to Ransom’s face, and I see that his eyes are brimming with wetness, I guess I now know the meaning of being slayed.
“I would never leave…” He chokes on that last word. Hard. “I mean, not for good. I’m sorry. My phone was off because that’s the safest. I know how to cover my tracks. I went to talk to my brother. The one that is, uh, with someone. It happened fast for them, too—my brother. It was unexpected. He decided to get out and move somewhere secluded and enjoy retirement. Or do work that’s not…well, not our regular kind of work. Kind of like me. I wanted to make sure they were safe at all costs, so I kind of came and went like a ghost.”
“You…you went where? To another country?”
He shrugs, and I know he won’t tell me because of the whole safety thing: his brother’s and mine.
“I took Granny and my brothers to the airport, and it was harder than I thought it would ever be to watch them leave and be the one staying behind. That feeling had nothing to do with you—not in a negative way—and everything to do with my own demons and also my security blanket being taken away. My family left, and it sunk in hard that I was starting a brand new life, and I really had no idea how to do that. I wanted to go to my brother for advice on that, and…well, on how he met the love of his life and their journey through that. I basically wanted to ask him how in the cheese of cheese—if we’re going with cheese—he made it work. I’m so sorry. I should have told you somehow, called or texted just so you knew, but I truly did plan on being gone only overnight, and I thought you wouldn’t even know. I didn’t tell you simply because I wanted to keep you safe. I truly hope you believe that.”
There’s a part of me that is still pissed—I mean cheesed, or maybe I do mean pissed because pissed isn’t really so bad, is it?—and I do get a strong, childish impulse to tell him that keeping secrets isn’t great for any relationship, but right away, the rational, not cheesy, part of myself kicks in. He wasn’t keeping secrets from me to hurt me or trick me or try and damage us. He was trying to protect me the same way my dad or any of the brothers would because they cared about me. Plus, it’s not just me in this body anymore. My body is responsible for growing and caring for another life, and that started the second he or she was conceived. Ransom clearly gets that.
