Chapter Tuesday, December 20th
Ronan
“Hello?” My voice is raspy, like my vocal cords were raked over hot coals.
“Hey, Rony,” Miranda chokes out.
I sit up fast, immediately on high alert. “Randi?” Holy shit, I haven’t heard from her since she left Montana last March. “Are you alright?”
“No. I need your help,” she says, her voice cracking.
Is she crying?
I’m already getting out of bed. “What happened?”
She holds back a sob, but I hear the whimper. “I… Everything is gone. My money, my phone, my truck,” she says, choking on the last word. “He fucking took everything. I don’t know what to do. I have no one else to call.”
There’s something about the way she says that—no one else to call—that lands like a stone in my chest.
I don’t ask her who “he” is while I walk to my closet.
“Where are you right now?” I ask, switching my black sweatpants for jeans while I balance my phone—with Miranda on speaker—in my right hand.
“I’m at a motel in Pikeville, Tennessee,” she says, then sniffles. No fucking clue where that is.
“Is anyone there with you?” I try to button my jeans one-handed.
“No,” she says meekly. Miranda doesn’t get defeated, but that’s all I hear in her voice. Defeat. “I’m all alone. I don’t know what to do.”
I pull on a hoodie before I ask her for the name and address of the motel. I pull it up on my phone.
“Okay, listen, Randi, I’m going to head to you right now, but it’s going to take me a while to get to you. I probably won’t be there until tonight sometime. Can you stay where you are?” I grab my wallet and car keys from my nightstand.
“I have to check out in a few hours, Rony. I don’t have any money to pay for another night,” she says, clearly trying to keep her composure but failing. “He took everything. Everything.” A renewed cry follows her words.
I make a split-second decision. “Okay, let me talk to the front-desk person.”
Miranda must have handed off the phone, because only a second later an older woman’s voice comes through. I cut to the point, pay for another night, and make sure she confirms Miranda is all set. The woman passes the phone back.
“Thank you, Rony,” she says. Her voice is hoarse. Like she hasn’t slept in days. Like she hasn’t stopped crying in hours.
My heart squeezes uncomfortably in my chest. I’ve always had a lot of love for Miranda.
Not in the way she wants me to—at least based on what she told me the last time I saw her—but I care about her deeply.
I also know that Miranda isn’t one to ask for help.
She and I are so alike in that respect: way too damn independent for our own good, too afraid to ask for help because it makes us vulnerable and exposes us to pain.
So the fact that she called me after disappearing into thin air, after not speaking to me for over nine months, makes me think she’s in a bad place.
“Don’t even worry about it,” I say. “Randi, just do me a favor and stay where you are. I’m leaving now, but it’ll take me a while to get to you, okay?”
“Okay,” she sighs.
We end our conversation and I walk straight to Shane’s closed bedroom door across the hallway. I take a second to listen, making sure I’m not about to interrupt something. Not surprisingly, no sounds emanate from Shane’s room. I’m sure he’s still fast asleep.
I knock a couple of times before cracking the door slowly.
Oh god, please don’t be railing her right now…
I’m spared. As I suspected, Shane is still passed out, Tori in his arms, her back to his front as she sleeps soundly.
The two of them haven’t said anything, but at this point Tori has basically moved in with Shane and me; her stuff can be found all over our apartment.
It doesn’t bother me in the least. I’ve always liked Tori and I know that Shane feels about her exactly how I feel about Cat.
And much like Cat saved my life, Tori saved Shane’s.
“Shay,” I whisper, trying to wake him without rousing Tori, but she’s the first to blink her eyes open at me. “Sorry, Tor, can you wake your guy?”
She bumps her butt against him, causing him to open his eyes with a sleepy grunt. “Ran needs to talk to you,” she mutters before shutting her eyes again.
I walk into the kitchen to wait for Shane.
He shuffles in a minute later wearing gray sweatpants, his chest bare.
He and I sleep exactly the same way—window open, wearing only sweatpants, boxers if it’s too damn hot in the summer—which is something both Tori and Cat commented on once Shane and I started living together.
“What’s up, dude?” He looks exactly like someone who just got pulled out of deep sleep, his shoulder-long, undercut hair messy, eyes squinting against the kitchen lights. The sun is only just rising and it’s still dusky in the apartment.
I open the fridge to retrieve the ingredients for a turkey sandwich to take on the road with me. “Do you remember me telling you about Randi?”
“Randi, your ex?”
I nod. Shane’s my best friend—I’ve obviously told him about Miranda. He knows we were together a few years ago, knows she was my first.
“Yeah, what about her?” he asks.
“She just called me. She’s in some kind of trouble. I’m not completely sure what happened, but she isn’t usually one to ask for help, so the fact that she called me worries me.”
“Okay?” Shane leans against the doorframe, watching as I throw together my turkey sandwich. “Where is she?”
“Tennessee. Some place called Pikeville.”
“Never heard of it.”
“Me, neither. I looked it up. It’s about an hour north of Nashville.” I put some mustard on the slices of whole-grain bread on the counter.
Shane pushes off the doorframe and crosses his arms in front of his sturdy chest with a frown. “Wait, are you planning on heading there? Dude, that’s like a twelve-hour drive.”
“Thirteen,” I say with a nod. “And yeah, I am about to get on the road.”
“Ran, do you think that’s a good idea? I mean, why do you have to head down there?” Concern lines his brow and laces his tone.
“She’s stuck there; her truck was taken and so was all of her money. Randi doesn’t really have anyone else she can call. I have to do this.”
He studies me for a few seconds, his brow creased. “Okay.” Shane finally nods. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“I hate to do this to you, man, but are you okay covering for me at Murphy’s tomorrow?
I doubt I’ll be back in time for my shift.
” I feel shitty asking Shane to take on extra hours.
He’s been working like crazy these past few months and I hate asking him to work doubles.
“I have to see what I can do to help her.”
“No problem, Ran,” Shane says without hesitation. “You’re a great friend, you know? I don’t know many people who would just drop everything to help someone they haven’t seen in months and who’s hundreds of miles away.”
I face him. “You’d do it for me.”
He squares his shoulder. “Yeah, I would.”
“Randi isn’t lucky like me,” I say. “I wouldn’t know what to do without you, and Cat, and my brother. Vada, Zack, Summer…” I trail off. “Randi really only has… me.”
“She is lucky to have you.” A smile curves his lips. “Does Cat know about this?”
“Not yet,” I say hesitantly. “I’m going to call her from the road.”
“What do you think she’ll say?”
I pause. Not because I don’t know the answer, but because I’m afraid of it. “Hopefully she’ll understand that this is something I have to do.”
Things have been slightly tense between us ever since my grandmother showed up, and it’s completely my fault.
All of it. I still haven’t opened up to Cat about it, still haven’t told her about the nightmares.
And yes, Cat deserves to know what goes on in my head, but I can’t.
I can’t tell her about the dreams, can’t tell her that I fear losing control, that I’m terrified of repeating history.
Saying it out loud… it’s like speaking it into existence.
Maybe if the thoughts stay locked away in my head, I can keep destiny from fulfilling itself.
And I haven’t told her about Rashana, either.
Just last week, Rashana hunted me down in the library at Columbia.
I was studying for my econ final when she slid into a chair right across the table from me.
I threw her a look that should have properly conveyed my unwillingness to talk to her, but she didn’t budge.
She just sat there, quiet, occasionally looking up at me, while I tried to focus on whatever the fuck I was reading, then rereading and rereading again.
It got so uncomfortable, I slammed my laptop shut, shoved my shit into my backpack, and marched out to the courtyard.
I was counting on Rashana to follow me, and when she did, I rounded on her.
“You need to stay the fuck away from me,” I barked at her, and immediately felt guilty when she jumped back.
“Ronan, I promise, I’m not the enemy. I’m just trying to write a good story. And I think I could give y—”
I chuffed at her. “This story you’re hounding me about?
That’s my damn life. It’s not fucking entertainment.
It’s not a piece you get to use to get an A in your damn class or find a sweet fucking job after graduation.
” I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself.
“Please, I’m begging you, leave me alone.
Write a different story, find a different subject. I don’t care. Just… leave me alone.”
We stared at each other a moment longer. When she didn’t respond, I turned to leave.
Cat doesn’t know about any of this.
Cat
I don’t think I ever truly realized that romance doesn’t always mean bunches of roses, chocolate-covered strawberries, and big declarations. And then I met Ronan who, even with the smallest gestures, makes clear to me how much of his thoughts I occupy, even when we’re not in the same room.