29. Ransom
29
RANSOM
" I t was real, wasn't it?" she asks, fingers tracing over the emblem on the steering wheel.
The realest thing I've ever known. "The last time I was in this truck, your dad was driving me out of town."
She scowls, gaze full of questions finally landing on me. It's time to give her all of it. It's the only way I can answer her question. "We had a plan, that I would meet up with him after, and he'd drive me out to meet my social worker. That's how I left town."
Her hands fall to her lap, eyes troubled. "I don't understand."
"That night, the night he caught us in your room? Do you remember the look on his face?"
Her brow furrows. "Not really. I was embarrassed, but also really annoyed that he was acting like we were committing some crime. We were just making out."
"I remember his face. It was fear, Blair. There was some anger and frustration mixed in, but mostly, it was fear."
"What? Why would he be afraid?"
Her face is filled with confusion, and I almost stop. She doesn't need to know Robert's part in us breaking up. But I know that if I do stop, if I keep that part of our story to myself, that I can kiss any hope of a future with her goodbye.
"He'd spoken to me a few weeks before that night. You were at some school thing, so it was just the two of us in the garage. He knew about us."
"I've seen the way you two look at each other. I'm not blind, son."
"It's not what you think," I blurt out, even though it's exactly what he thinks. "We're just ? —"
"Don't," Robert cuts me off. "Don't lie to me. I need you to understand something very important."
I clench my jaw, ready to defend myself, to prove I'm not some dumb kid. "I care about her. A lot."
"I know you do. But, Ransom, she's almost eighteen. You're fifteen. Do you understand what that means?"
"Age is just a number," I mutter, hating how childish it sounds even as I say it.
Robert , turns to face me. His eyes are filled with a fear I've never seen before. "It's not just a number to the law. When Blair turns eighteen, if you two... if anything happens between you, she could go to jail. Do you get that?"
The weight of his words hits me like a punch to the gut. I hadn't even thought about that. "But we wouldn't ? —"
"Blair doesn't always understand boundaries, Ransom. She might not realize the consequences of her actions. And I'm terrified she's going to end up in handcuffs because of it."
I think about Blair, about her gray eyes that see right through me, about how she makes me feel like I'm not broken. The thought of her in trouble because of me makes me sick.
"I'm not a kid anymore," I say, my voice shaking. "I've grown up. I can handle this."
Robert's face softens. "I know you have. But the law doesn't care about that. It doesn't care how mature you are or how deep your feelings run. All it sees are numbers."
I kick at a pebble on the sidewalk, frustration building in my chest. "So what, we're just supposed to pretend we don't feel anything?"
"I'm asking you to be careful. To think about Blair's future, not just your feelings right now."
His words sting, but I can't deny the truth in them. I think about Blair, about how much she's overcome, how hard she's worked to fit into this world that doesn't always understand her. The last thing I want is to mess that up for her.
"I don't want to hurt her," I whisper, my throat tight.
Robert puts a hand on my shoulder. "I know you don't, son. That's why we're having this conversation."
The silence is heavy between us. My mind's racing, trying to figure out how to protect Blair without losing her completely.
"What am I supposed to do?" I ask, hating how lost I sound.
Robert takes a deep breath. "For now, just be her friend. Be there for her, support her, but keep things...appropriate. When you're both adults, if these feelings are still there, then you can explore them safely."
It feels impossible, like asking me to stop breathing. But as I think about Blair, about her future, I know I have to try.
"I'll do my best," I promise, meaning it with every fiber of my being.
Robert nods, relief clear on his face. "That's all I can ask, Ransom. Thank you for listening."
Blair stares at me, then, with a muffled sound, shoves her door open and steps out of the truck. She moves to the front, her back to me, shoulders hunched. I climb out and stand next to her, wanting so badly to hold her that I have to shove my hands in my pockets to stop myself.
"Boundaries?" she repeats softly. "I don't understand boundaries? I was almost eighteen. He could have explained that to me. That it was wrong. I didn't know that. I didn't know any of that." She turns to me, devastation all over her face. "He didn't believe in me at all."
Fuck. This is exactly why I didn't want to do this. "He did, Blair. He loved you."
"But he didn't trust me. Yes, I had problems with boundaries, when I was a kid! I took food off other people's plates or said things that would be considered rude. But I wasn't stupid."
"No. You were the smartest person I knew."
Her jaw clenches, and she paces away from the truck. "So what, he talked to you, and you decided to leave town?"
"No. It didn't happen like that. I wasn't going anywhere. I thought if we just didn't let ourselves be alone together, we'd be okay. It seemed like we could do that. A few years, and I'd be old enough for it to be safe for us. I never doubted my feelings for you, Blair. Not for a second. But I didn't want to put you in danger. It didn't matter that I was bigger than you or that I'd lived more life than most fifteen-year-olds. The law is the law. But keeping my hands off you was..."
"Impossible," she says, wincing. "Everything felt so...frantic when we were together."
"Exactly. I thought I could keep my hands off you. I kept it PG for weeks. But that night—" I inhale deeply, all the feelings from that night racing through my body like it just happened. "That night, I was out of control. All I could think about was you. All I could feel is you. And if he hadn't woken up, I don't think I would have stopped."
She winces, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I had condoms in my drawer. Maggie bought them for me."
"Fuck," I groan, dropping my hands to my knees, ass pressing into the grill of the Ford. "There was no way we could live in that house together and not end up having sex. I loved you too much."
"You loved me so much you broke up with me?" she asks. But it comes out a little less like a question and more like a statement of fact. Like she's starting to see how it all played out.
"The next morning, Robert came and talked to me again."
"Ransom, I'm begging you. If you really care about Blair, you need to end this. For her sake."
I want to argue, to fight for what Blair and I have. But as I look at Robert, at the fear and desperation in his eyes, I know he's right.
"What do I do?" I ask, hating how small my voice sounds.
Robert sighs. "You need to break up with her. And it needs to be real, Ransom. Blair won't accept anything less."
The thought of hurting Blair, of pushing her away, makes me feel sick. But the alternative—Blair in handcuffs, her future ruined because of me—is even worse.
"Okay," I say, my heart breaking with each word. "I'll do it. For Blair."
Robert nods, relief evident on his face. "Thank you, Ransom. I know this isn't easy, but it's the right thing to do."
I stand in the garage, the weight of Robert's words crushing me. The realization hits me like a freight train—I can't do this. I can't break Blair's heart and then live under the same roof, watching her every day, knowing what we could have had. It's going to destroy us both.
"I knew I wasn't strong enough to live in the bedroom next to yours for years without touching you. I just couldn't picture it. Sitting across from you at breakfast, working in the garage together. It would be bad enough breaking up with you, seeing the hurt on your face. I couldn't do it."
Cupping her elbow, I turn her to face me. "I told him I had to leave. And he didn't really try to talk me out of it. He knew our feelings were real. He also knew what it was like to be a teenage boy." I can't stop myself from rubbing her arm with my thumb, imagining I'm touching her skin instead of her plaid shirt. "Robert loved me. I know he did. But not more than you. His priority was always you. And he knew that me leaving was safest for you."
The pain in her face kills me. I would do anything to take it away. But I know the only way past it is through it.
"Why didn't you just tell me the truth back then? Why didn't he?"
"Neither one of us wanted to hurt you. And I think he was afraid of damaging your relationship. Also, and I agree with him on this one, you were a stubborn ass sometimes."
She scowls at me but doesn't disagree. I can't even remember how many times they butted heads. Blair was always strong-willed, especially when she thought she was right. And Robert, calm, cool, collected Robert, would flip his lid. Even I couldn't drive him to lose his cool, and I fucking tried. But with Blair, he'd let loose. They both seemed to weirdly enjoy fighting with each other, but those fights were usually over the right way to fix a problem in the shop or over schoolwork. Never over anything serious.
"I don't know if it was right. I don't know that if we'd had sex, anything would have happened to you. Legally, I mean. But it seemed like too big a risk to take. It's a felony. You would have been labeled as a sex offender."
"No one here would have judged us." Her voice is small, smaller than I've ever heard it.
"I don't know about that. The sheriff always seemed to have his eyes on me. All it would take is one person saying something, and he'd have no choice but to act. The law is the law. There's no room for interpretation or judgment."
She pulls away, stalking to the edge of the small hill, looking at the field beyond, head bowed, looking so alone it fucking kills me. "The things you said that night were so awful. They played over and over in my mind. They made me doubt everything," she says, voice thready.
"That whole night plays over and over in my mind too, like a bad fucking dream. I said the most hurtful stuff I could think of. I had to make sure you never wanted to see me again."
"You're just a distraction, Blair. A way to pass the time until I could get out of this hellhole. I deserve more from life than you and this bumfuck town."
"You don't mean that," Blair whispers, her voice trembling. "Ransom, please. This isn't like you."
I clench my fists, fighting the urge to take it all back. "This is me, Blair. The real me. The one who's sick of playing house with you and your dad."
Blair reaches for me, but I step back. "Don't touch me," I snarl.
"Why are you doing this?" Blair asks, tears welling in her eyes. "I thought... I thought you loved me."
I force a harsh laugh. "Love you? You're so fucking stupid. You were just convenient. Only shit is getting complicated now. So I'm done."
The words hit her like a physical blow. She stumbles back, her face crumpling. I've never seen her look like this. I've never seen her broken. "No," she chokes out. "No, you're lying. You have to be lying."
"Face it, Blair," I say, my voice cold. "You're nothing to me. Just a stupid girl who fell for the first guy who paid her any attention."
Blair's tears are flowing freely now, her face turning blank. "Stop it," she pleads. "Please, Ransom, stop."
But I can't stop. I have to make sure she never follows me, never tries to find me. I have to break her heart so completely that she'll hate me forever.
"You want to know the truth, Blair?" I say, leaning in close. "I've been laughing at you this whole time. You and your pathetic little life in this pathetic little town. You're a joke."
Blair's face crumples, her eyes filled with a pain so deep it makes me want to scream. But I force myself to continue, to twist the knife.
"I never loved you," I say, each word tearing me apart inside. "I never even liked you. You were just a way to pass the time. And now I'm done with you."
As I walk away, I hear Blair's sobs echoing through the square. It takes everything I have not to turn back, not to run to her and beg for forgiveness. But I keep walking, each step taking me further from the only real happiness I've known since my family died.
"You did a fucking bang-up job making me hate you," Blair says, finally looking at me, eyes filled with pain as fresh as it was that night. "I felt like a zombie in a black-and-white movie, just moving through the world with no feelings or emotion. It was all survival. I ate, slept, and worked. And I did everything I could to forget about you and the horrible things you said. But I couldn't. I'd lay in bed at night and play it over and over in my mind. I didn't understand how I'd been so stupid."
The defeat in her voice guts me. Every muscle in my body screams to reach for her, to pull her close like I used to. But I lost that right. Lost it the moment I walked away and left her standing in that park, tears streaming down her face while I fed her lies about not loving her anymore.
"I'm so fucking sorry."
She flinches, then crosses her arms over her chest again, nearly hugging herself. "Finish it. What happened when you left that bench?"
I duck behind a building, my legs giving out as I slide down the rough brick wall. The mask I wore for Blair shatters, and I'm left gasping, choking on sobs that tear through my chest. My fingers claw at the ground, desperate for something to hold onto as wave after wave of pain crashes over me.
I don't know how long I sit there, drowning in my own misery. But eventually, the sobs subside, leaving me hollow and numb. I check my watch, knowing Robert's waiting for me. The thought of facing him after what I've just done makes me want to curl up and disappear.
But I can't. I have to finish this.
I spot a loose brick in a nearby wall and yank it free. The weight of it in my hand feels wrong, but I force myself to my feet. I stumble up the street, my eyes scanning for a target. There—the grocery store. Mr. Harding is just locking up.
I wait until he's halfway down the block, then hurl the brick with all my might. The crash of breaking glass shatters the quiet night. I wait under the streetlight just long enough for him to recognize me; then I turn and run.
Guilt gnaws at my insides as I sprint towards Robert's truck. These people took me in, cared for me. And this is how I repay them? I'm exactly what all those foster families labeled me as: a lost cause. But it's necessary. I need a reason to vanish. I have to make sure everyone is happy to see me gone, and a big broken window should do the trick.
Robert's waiting in his truck, his face grim in the dim light. As I climb in, he reaches out and squeezes my shoulder. The gesture nearly breaks me all over again.
We drive in silence, the darkness of the countryside swallowing us up. I can feel Robert's eyes on me, full of concern and something else—a deep, aching sadness that mirrors my own. This would be easier if I could hate him, but I can't. He's looking out for Blair, and I'm so glad she has someone who will—someone who is always on her side.
Finally, we pull up beside another car. Jerry, my social worker, steps out to meet us. Robert turns to me, his eyes shining with unshed tears.
"Ransom," he says, his voice rough. "Son, thank you. Thank you. I'm sorry. I wish—." His lips press together in a line, unable to continue. But I know what he wishes: that he didn't have to choose between us. That I wouldn't have to go back into the system.
I wish the same things, but there's no point in continuing to wish for something that's never going to happen, so I just nod, not trusting myself to speak. Robert pulls me into a fierce hug, and for a moment, I let myself cling to him, inhaling the familiar scent of his aftershave.
"I'm proud of you, son," he whispers. "And I love you. Don't you ever forget that."
A sob rips from her chest. Just one. Then she pulls it back, forcing herself under control. "He drove you right out of my life. Literally drove you." She moves to the tall oak tree and leans against it. I follow because I can't not follow her. She's always been it for me. Doesn't matter how much I tried to deny it or rationalize it; deep in my gut, I knew.
Blair's my everything.
"He did. And I'm grateful for it. Because he was right, Blair. We were playing a dangerous game, and I didn't understand that then. Not like I do now. I wasn't a man yet. And as mature as I thought I was, I had a lot of growing up to do."
"You were more mature than most of the guys at school. And I was young for my age. We matched." She's not wrong. Blair was older, but she lacked the experience and maturity of the rest of her peers. She spent more time with her dad than other girls. I think her only true friend was Maggie. She was innocent in a way seventeen-year-olds aren't now.
"I know. If I were a few years older, or you were a few years younger, our lives would look very different right now."
Her exhale is as heavy and exhausted as I feel. "Do you think about it? What might have been?"
"I used to. It's pretty easy to imagine. Prom, working at the garage. I would have proposed to you. You would have cried and?—"
She snorts and mutters, "Not likely."
"Shut up. This is my dream. You would have cried, and I would have slid a teeny tiny engagement ring on your finger. We would have gotten married in the square with everyone there. Then we would’ve had a big barbecue." If I close my eyes, I can picture the party. Blair in a white dress, shoulders bare, little tendrils of hair curling around her face as we danced. There is so much we never did together. So much we missed. We never fucking danced. "There would have been babies, I think. A little girl that looked like you, with the most beautiful grey eyes. And a little boy that looked like me, and watched over his sister."
"It's a nice dream."
"Yeah, it is."
She sighs and leans her head back against the rough bark. "I don't know what to say or think about any of this."
Thankfully, I have a fuck of a lot to say. "For years, I told myself I was making it up. That what we had wasn't as special as I remembered. That I was a fucking kid romanticizing a teenage romance. And I tried so hard to forget you. There were other women..." I run a hand through my hair. "But they were just... physical. Nothing real. Nothing that touched my heart."
"So you're saying you've been pining for me for twenty-five years?" Her skepticism cuts deep.
"Pining? Really? Have you gotten into those historical romance movies?" She glares at me, but there's a hint of a smile in her eyes. It's enough to keep me going. "I had my family. My brothers sure as fuck kept me busy. Building something with them felt like enough.At least I told myself it was." I take a step closer, and thankfully she doesn't move. "But then they started finding partners. Real love. I watched how it changed them. How it made them better men."
"And suddenly you remembered me?"
"No, Baby. You are always there. In the back of my mind. In my dreams. Every time I pick up a fucking wrench, I think of you. Every time I make my morning coffee, I think about you. Every time I crawl into fucking bed, I think about you." My hands are shaking. "For a long time, I was just really good at ignoring it. I shut that shit down. And when my family needed me more, it was easier. They're a lot. A lot of energy. A lot of drama. So it worked for a while."
Blair uncrosses her arms, confusion replacing the disbelief in her eyes. "Ransom..."
"I know this sounds crazy. Trust me, I know. But I've never stopped loving you, Blair. Not for a single day."