23. Ransom
23
RANSOM
Declan: WHO ATE MY CAKE?!
Jonas: What cake?
Kade: There was cake?
Micah: Details, man. What kind of cake?
Declan: A WHOLE SHEET CAKE. FROM THE FRIDGE. GONE.
Zach: Wait, you had an entire sheet cake?
Nick: Grocery store or bakery?
Declan: Grocery store. But that's not the point! And don’t judge me, Zach. You ate your weight in donuts yesterday. I didn’t even get one!
Colton: Dude, why'd you have a whole sheet cake?
Maverick: Yeah, what's the occasion?
Janey: Did we forget someone’s birthday?
Maya: Oh no, did we miss something?
Declan: NO OCCASION. JUST WANTED CAKE.
Cara: Can confirm. He just wanted cake. All of it.
Jonas: I want cake.
Kade: Dec, you okay, man?
Micah: Stress eating?
Zach: Video game marathon fuel? And fuck you, I gave Maya a donut. I just didn’t want to share with you.
Nick: Did you lose another bet?
F uck, I love them. All of them.
Laughing, I toss my phone onto the bed, the flowered bedspread no longer as offensive as it was yesterday. Mrs. Winston looked at me funny when I walked back into her B she gets out. At least that's what he says. I suspect her gate gets left open every once in a while. Charlie's granddaughter's a bit forgetful. Harriet’s run about six people off the road now."
Of course she has. I can't decide if that makes me feel better.
"And what about your family? Do you have one of your own?"
I smile, thinking of Mia and Noah. "Not of my own, but I have a niece and nephew. Mia's almost five, smart as a whip. And Noah just turned a year."
Mrs. Winston's eyes sparkle. "Oh, how wonderful! Children are such a blessing."
We chat more as I finish breakfast. I find myself opening up, sharing stories about my brothers and the women. Mrs. Winston laughs, her whole face lighting up.
"Thank you for breakfast," I say, genuinely grateful. "It was delicious."
She beams at me. "You're welcome anytime, Ransom. Will you be staying another night?"
She asks hard questions. I don't know what the fuck I'm still doing here, so who the fuck knows? "I'm not sure yet. But I'll let you know."
The walk to the coffee shop feels different today. The boarded-up storefronts are still there, but I notice details I missed before—the carefully tended flowerbeds, the cheerful "Good morning!" from the man sweeping in front of the hardware store, the fresh paint on the shutters. This town is struggling, that's obvious, but the people who are still here obviously still care about this place. It still feels homey, like I remember.
I didn't appreciate any of that when I was a kid. I didn't like that people knew my name and got in my business. I especially hated it the first year I lived here. I'd gotten used to skipping school when I was at my foster homes. Nobody gave a shit. Not the parents, not the school. Not really.
Here, Robert's spy network would report back to him, and he'd come find me. The longest I ever managed to stay gone was an hour. Getting hauled back to school multiple times a day at first got old.
So I stayed. And I made friends and actually learned a few things.
The grief and anger of losing my entire family didn't disappear, but this town wore the sharp edges down.
Blair wore the edges down with her matter-of-fact attitude. She didn't treat me like some poor foster kid. It was more like I was a bug under a microscope, and she wanted to figure out what I was made of.
The way she looked at me pissed me off at first. Then, when I got to know her better, I started to love it. Blair didn't look at things that didn't interest her. Never. And I liked that she was interested in me.
The coffee shop comes into view, and I quicken my pace, suddenly craving one of those blueberry muffins. The place is packed, but I snag a place at the end of the line, my back pressed against the door.
Being tall has its advantages. Today, it's allowing me to see the display case over everyone's heads. The muffin selection looks fucking spectacular, and suddenly I'm starving again.
There's a bump against my back, and even before I turn around, I know it's her. I fucking feel her. I give myself a second, just one, to brace myself before I turn around.
I'm prepared for Blair. For the power of her. At least I tell myself I am.
I am not prepared for Maggie.
"Maggie," I breathe, reaching out for her. She looks nothing like the girl I remember. That girl was all curves, pink cheeks, and wild hair. This Maggie? She's all bone, her cheeks sunken in, hair short and close to her scalp.
And her eyes? They look ancient and so, so tired. And she's clinging to Blair's arm like it's the only thing holding her together.
Maggie's sick. Really sick.
And suddenly everything people have been saying about Blair, how she has so much on her plate, makes sense. It's Maggie. They've been friends forever. And I know she was sick when they were teenagers. It happened before I moved here, but it wasn't a secret. The way the girls talked about it, it was no big deal. As often as Blair and I spent time together, I also spent time with Maggie. It was the three of us, and sometimes four if Maggie brought any of the boyfriends she rotated through. The girl lived big.
I take her hand carefully and tuck it into my elbow. She leans in, and she weighs almost nothing. I catch Blair's eyes, and I see everything there. The devastation, the pain, the resignation.
Maggie tightens her grip and looks at me, a hint of the girl she used to be in her eyes. "Ransom. Fancy meeting you here. I thought you would have headed back to your life by now. Aren't you some sort of big shot? Aren't things falling apart without you?"
So we're doing this, huh? Just pretending that everything's fine? I want to confront her. To find out what the fuck is going on, but something in her gaze stops me. An almost pleading look. So I put on my most charming smile and play along.
For now.
But no fucking way am I letting her off the hook completely. I want answers. I want to know what's wrong. But for right now, we'll do it her way.
"Yeah, I'm a big fucking deal. But my assistant is really scary, so she's handling things. And my brothers can take care of anything she can't."
"Brothers? Really?" Her lips curve into a smile. "You have to tell me all about them. How many?"
We move forward in the line, and I'm very aware of Blair. Together, we've snugged Maggie between us, buffering her from the crowd. "I have nine brothers," I tell her, tucking her even closer.
"Nine! Holy Jesus, Ransom. How the hell did that happen? I need details, man."
"We all met in a group home. Well, not John. He wasn't there. But his brother Colton was. We formed a family in there."
She stares up at me. "And? You just decided to be a family, got the fuck out of there, and immediately became gajillionaires?"
"Not exactly."
She growls a little. It's tiny and cute. "You are so frustrating! I need details, man! How did you go from a group home to all of this?" She waves her arm up and down in front of me, making me smile despite the worry in the pit of my stomach.
"Things weren't easy back then. The group home was a shithole. The kids in there didn't have anywhere else to go. It was the literal bottom of the barrel. And when there's no hope, shit can spiral. There were fights, drugs, and all kinds of unsavory shit."
"But you didn't get sucked into it?"
"No, I didn't."
"How?"
I look at Blair, seeing the girl I remember. "Because I saw what life could be. And I knew that if I had any hope of finding that again, I would have to build it for myself. No one was going to hand it to me. They'd already written me off."
"I hate that," Maggie says, bringing my attention back to her. "You had a life here. And you blew it up. Stupid."
Necessary. "Maybe. But I couldn't change it. All I could do was look forward. So I found my brothers, and then I used my skills to get us the fuck out of there."
"What does that mean, used your skills?"
"I'm a bit older than my brothers, and I didn't wait to get out of there. They don't chase you when you take off, so I started playing in underground games. Poker games. I won. A lot."
Maggie's mouth drops open, then a bark of laughter escapes. "Oh my god!" She turns to Blair. "Did he ever beat you when we were kids?"
The corner of Blair's lips curve. "He came close. Once."
Maggie whistles and slaps Blair on the arm. "Jeez. You always said you were an excellent poker player, but when you're seventeen, that doesn't mean a damn thing. Only…I guess you were right?"
"She was right," I say, smiling down at Maggie. "Blair is a fucking poker genius. I didn't really realize it either, not at first. But when I found that first game, all I had was twenty bucks in my pocket. I figured it was worth a shot. And I won. More than won. I fucking destroyed them. So I took my winnings and rolled that into another game, then another. After a few months, I saw an opportunity, and I took it." I stop as the man in front of us finishes his order and moves to the side. Frannie looks up at me and grins.
"You're back! Hi, Maggie. Hi, Blair. The usual?" The women all trade smiles and small talk. I only interrupt to double the muffin order and ask for a large black coffee.
"Black coffee? Seriously? You're missing out, Ransom. Why don't you live a little and try something else?" Maggie says, nudging me.
A few minutes later, we're grabbing a small table outside, and I'm taking a sip of my mocha. It's fucking amazing.The muffin is still steaming, with chunks of apple and cinnamon hitting my tongue. "Holy fuck," I mutter, mouth full. Maggie laughs, and Blair smiles.
So, of course, I choke on my muffin.
Because that smile is even more powerful than I remember.
Shit. I am so stupid. Why the fuck did I stay? This is such a big mistake.
Maggie pats my back as I cough, and finally, I manage to clear my throat. "Jesus, I nearly died. I'm serious, I saw an angel." I wink at Maggie, and she rolls her eyes, and for a minute, I’m transported back to before. Before life got complicated. Before I blew everything. Back to when we were friends.
I missed her. I didn't realize how much.
"But what a way to go." Maggie breaks off a piece of her own muffin, "Frannie’s been experimenting lately. Last week she made these orange cranberry ones that were insane."
"How long has she owned the shop?"
"About five years now. As you can probably tell, Badger Falls isn't really a booming metropolis, and the building was a steal. And as you can tell by the lineup, whatever she puts in her muffins is addictive. If you sit here long enough, I swear most of the people in town will head through those doors."
"Good for her." I mean it. I respect anyone who has the guts to bet on themselves.
"So," Maggie leans forward, eyes sparkling with interest. "Tell me about this opportunity you took. What happened?"
I take another sip of the mocha. "There was this garage, not far from our neighborhood. I'd gone there looking for work a few times, but the owner was a piece of shit. Drunk most of the time."
"And a gambler?" Maggie guesses, eyes wide. She is fully invested in my story. Another thing I remember about her. She always threw herself into whatever we were doing. She lived big. And she had a way of looking at you like whatever you were saying was the most important thing to her in the moment. Blair needed a friend like her. Someone who would take the time to listen. Someone who cared enough to encourage her to talk.
"Yeah. He showed up at one of the games, already half in the bag. Started throwing money around, then ran out. That's when he put the deed to the shop in the pot."
"And he just gave it up when he lost? Just like that?"
"Not exactly. But he came around to the idea." Or more specifically, John and his gang made sure he came around. I didn't know him then, didn't know he was Colton's brother. All I knew was he had connections, and on the street, people listened to him. It was the start of an odd sort of friendship. One that continued the entire time he was in prison.
Blair hasn't said a word, just watches me with those gray eyes. What does she think of me now? Of the things I did to get where I am? I lived my life in the gray areas for a long time. Hell, even now I don't mind playing in the gray, especially when it comes to my family.
Honestly, I didn't try that hard. I did whatever I needed to to take care of my family. And I don't regret a fucking thing from those days.
"That was the start," I continue. "Once I took over the place, my brothers came to join me one by one. We lived over the shop in a one-room apartment. And we worked our fucking asses off." My eyes meet Blair's again. "If it weren't for Robert and Blair, and everything I learned from them, I wouldn't be where I am today."
Blair stands suddenly, looking pained, and I'm immediately on my feet too. I want to reach across the table and pull her to me. Something I said hit a nerve, and I want to soothe it, preferably with my lips.
"I need to get to work. I've got customers picking up this afternoon, and Matt can't finish by himself." She won't look at me. Her eyes are on Maggie. "I'll take you home."
Maggie's gaze is a little sad and a lot determined. "I'm going to stay and catch up with Ransom. He'll walk me home, right?"
I still can't take my eyes off Blair. "Absolutely. I'll take good care of her."
Blair hesitates, looking between us. Finally, she nods and heads across the square toward the garage.
She doesn't look back. She didn't last night either.
"Sit down, Ransom," Maggie says firmly. "And tell me why you're really here."