1. Ransom
1
RANSOM
" J esus, this place is depressing," I mutter, running my hand along a wall pocked with nail holes.
This is supposed to be our new headquarters, but I can't see it. The fluorescent lights flicker overhead, casting shadows over the empty space, lighting up spots where posters used to hang. There's even a pile of trashed desks in the corner. It looks like someone piled them up to stop a horde of zombies from coming in the windows.
That's not a bad idea, actually. I could rent this place out to film productions. Maybe create a killer haunted house for Halloween. Anything but actually move into it.
Cara snorts beside me, her stilettos clicking against the scuffed linoleum. "Where's your vision, Boss? It's nothing a little paint and some decent lighting can't fix."
I fucking hate when she calls me Boss. In theory, it should be respectful and appropriate. In reality, she makes it sound like she's talking to a child. Admittedly, I'm pouting, so I don't call her on it. "And every penny I have. Fuck, why did I think this was a good idea?"
Cara strolls through the space in her four-inch stilettos, looking all business in a sleek pantsuit, lacy red peeking out at her neckline. "Because it is a good idea. Suck it up, Buttercup. It's going to be great."
"Buttercup?" I mutter under my breath, unrolling the architect's plans. Did her attitude get bigger when she fell in love with Declan? I don’t really know. But I’ll take the attitude over withdrawn, broken Cara. That version of her scared the fuck out of me. She killed a man to save her sister, and it scarred her permanently, but thankfully, she’s come out on the other side.
And I’m so grateful for her being whole and happy, I’ll live with the attitude.
Truthfully, I love the attitude. She’s always challenging me, forcing me to be a little bit better, a little bit faster, to stay ahead of her. I could see her taking the whole company over one day.
I could also see her being a full-time mom or pretty much anything in between. The sky’s the limit for her, and whatever dream she has going forward, I’ll make sure she gets it.
”Let’s see what we're working with here."
We move through the space, Cara pointing out where walls will be knocked down and new ones erected. I try to picture it, but I keep thinking about sitting here in the middle of a meeting when zombies attack from all sides.
"Hey," Cara says softly, touching my arm, nearly making me scream. "You okay?"
I force a smile. "Yeah, just..." thinking about zombies. "Thinking about how fast everything is changing. Sometimes I wonder if this is the right choice."
Cara's eyes soften. "Ransom Kyle, you listen to me. This move? It's exactly what we need. Room to grow, to build something even bigger and better."
She's right. I know she is. I'm just acting like a butthurt kid. "Do you ever get tired of being right?"
"Hasn't happened yet." She grins and taps the plans. "Now, about those bids..."
Plans spread over an old grey desk, we pore over the bids, discussing the merits of each contractor. Something nags at me, though.
"Hey, didn't you mention a friend of yours does this kind of work? I don't see her bid here." It stuck out because it's not every day you hear about a massive construction company completely run by women.
Cara's smile falters. "Oh, yeah. Jess and her crew. They, uh... they didn't put in a bid. Some trouble with the business, I guess."
"Everything okay?"
"I'm not sure," Cara admits, wincing. "Jess has been pretty tight-lipped about it. I'm worried, but..."
I squeeze her shoulder, not liking the look on her face. "Hey, if there's anything I can do to help, just say the word."
Cara nods but doesn't say anything more, and I wish she would. Partly because I'm curious but mostly because I don't like it when Cara's upset. Yeah, it was just a wince, but for Cara, that's the equivalent of an emotional breakdown. The woman is absolute ice at work.
But I don't push —for now— letting the silence between us grow while my eyes wander around the space again, trying to overlay the architect's vision onto the bland corporate-horror canvas. It's hard to imagine this place as our work home, but I know it will be. It has to be. I need to keep everyone close. We need to stay together.
"You know," Cara says, breaking the silence, "I think this room would make a killer boardroom. We could put in those fancy glass walls, maybe a bar in the corner for when meetings run long."
"You just want an excuse to drink on the job."
"Please," she scoffs. "Like I need an excuse. You boys would drive anyone to drink."
"Fair." More than one school administrator poured themselves a drink during a meeting. Jonas's principal drank straight out of the bottle once. Just stopped mid-sentence, pulled it out of a drawer and took a swig.
Pretty sure that was after the explosion.
I can't blame him. I've hit the bottle more than once after a conversation with Jonas. The man's mind works in mysterious ways, and it's an effort to keep up a lot of the time. I would never change him, but it would be nice if he'd let me get a coffee or two in me before he starts with some big idea of his.
Cara laughs, wandering to the bank of windows that overlooks a cracked parking lot, with industrial buildings past that.
This place isn't what I imagined. When I first dreamed up a new building for all of us, I had this vision of a campus. Lots of trees, a little park for the kids, and everything brand new. Not that I really give a shit about new, but I do care about comfort, and building something from the ground up means I can do whatever the hell I want. Instead, the timeline’s accelerated, and we’re settling. I don’t like it.
"It'll be great, Ran, really."
"I know," I say simply. Cara's mouth twists, obviously not buying it. "I just pictured something different. And I'm used to getting what I want."
She crosses her arms and leans against the window, the late morning light making it hard to read her expression. "You rarely get what you want. You are the king of compromise, Ransom. When it comes to your brothers, anything they want and need, you're all give."
She's not wrong. "In the end, as long as everyone's happy, it doesn't matter."
"Do you even hear yourself? As long as everyone's happy doesn't seem to include you. You want the new space. But because the rest of the guys don't, it's not happening. You're scrapping the plans."
"It's a compromise I'm willing to make, Cara. Don't make the mistake of thinking that I'm not getting what I want. Because in the end, all I care about is my family staying together. And if this place is going to help me do that, then I'm jumping for fucking joy."
"Yeah," she says dryly, "you look thrilled."
Very deliberately, I stretch my mouth into the widest grin I can. The kind of grin that makes your cheeks ache and looks completely fake. As expected, she groans and laughs.
"Fine. Fine. Let's get down to it then." She moves back to the desk and taps the piles of bids. "Let's narrow this shit down."
I stride into the Brash headquarters, Cara at my heels. The familiar buzz of activity washes over me, and my shoulders relax. This is home.
One of them, anyway.
"I'm gonna make my rounds," I tell Cara. She nods, already distracted by a text on her phone, and heads straight for the elevator.
I move to the corner of the lobby, aware that there are a bunch of eyes on me, but not bothered. I don't give a fuck if people look. They do it all the time. Because I'm the boss, because I'm rich…doesn't really matter why. They don't matter right now.
I quickly scan the lobby, then lock on Colton, deep in conversation with one of our new hires. His brow is furrowed in concentration, and there's a warmth in his eyes that puts the nervous-looking kid at ease. I don't recognize the kid, but that's not unusual anymore. The days of making every hiring decision, vetting every employee are long gone. We're too fucking big for that now.
Colton's suit jacket is long gone too, and the sleeves of his blue shirt are rolled up. He looks nothing like what he is: a giant teddy bear, admittedly one that could punch through a brick wall.
Getting him in a suit the first time was a fucking struggle. Thank fuck he's given up fighting me on it. Not that I really care what he wears, but there's something about putting that suit on that makes people look at him differently. And as the head of our security, he deserves to be treated with respect.
I wait patiently until he's done with the employee. Then he meets my gaze, and we give each other a little head tilt. It's enough to settle me. He's good. We're good. Time to find the rest of them.
Moving through the cubicles on the executive floor, I pass Jonas's office. The door's wide open, and I catch a glimpse of him scribbling furiously on his whiteboard. Numbers and symbols dance across the surface. Shit that I could figure out if I had a gallon of coffee and a week, but I don't have the patience to. I'm smart. Jonas is smarter. A lot smarter. Whatever he's working on is going to make us millions, I'm sure, so I don't bother knocking. I'll see him later.
Declan's lair is next, the darkness broken only by the glow of multiple screens. He's hunched over his keyboard, black beanie pulled low, fingers flying. I resist the urge to tell him to sit up straight - he'd just ignore me anyway. I have no idea what he's up to. He could be hacking a competitor or playing video games. Either is equally likely. I've learned it's better not to ask questions unless absolutely necessary.
A little further down, Kade's booming voice carries through his closed door. "Listen, you cocksucker, if you don't have those fucking contracts signed by lunch tomorrow, I'll personally come down there and shove them so far up your fucking ass you'll be tasting ink for a week." There's a pause, then a bark of laughter. "That's what I fucking thought. See you next week."
He's so charming. No wonder Becca fell for him.
Just across from my office, Zach's perched on Maya's desk, his ten-thousand-dollar suit wrinkling as he leans in, a teasing smile on his lips. Maya's rolling her eyes, but she's grinning. Jealousy clenches tightly in my gut. Not jealousy of him specifically, just that he has that. He has Maya, and they are so perfect for each other. I couldn't have handmade a better woman for him. She pushes him out of his comfort zone, and he does the same for her. And they always look so fucking happy.
I sometimes wonder if I could have had that. Maybe if I hadn't left all those years ago, I could have icy gray eyes looking at me with that kind of love.
Some days, I wonder what would happen if I went back for her. Just parked my ass in front of her place and didn't leave until she loved me again. But could I really do that? Just pick up and go to her, leaving everything behind?
The idea that I would burn down the world for another chance with her scares the fuck out of me. Fire took everything from me once, and I won't let it happen again. I have to protect what I built.
Bumping my fist against Zach's as I pass, I move on to Nick and Maverick's offices, both empty. It's not unusual for them to be gone, but I've gotten used to Mav being around more often now that he's only working the pro bono cases a couple of times a month. The stacks of overstuffed folders on his desk are getting smaller and smaller, and the stress lines around his mouth are disappearing. He could be taking the afternoon off.
As I log into the security cameras at our Knight Street location to check on Micah, a little tendril of unease unfurls in my chest. I'm always a little unsettled when I don't know where one of my brothers is. But this feeling is different.
Where the fuck are Mav and Nick?