She let go of me, then buttoned and zipped her jeans. She latched her eyes on mine in a way that said that I was her savior. It made me feel more than a touch uncomfortable because she was wrong; I wasn’t anyone’s hero.
It was then, that I heard the sirens approaching. Whatever I had planned on saying was lost in the high-pitched squeal that was coming way too fast toward us.
“I’ve got to bail… I can’t do the whole cop thing…I…”
I took a few steps away then stopped. As much as I needed to get off the streets and away from the cops prying questions, I couldn’t just leave the girl to fend for herself either.
“It’s not safe for you to be alone out here, are you staying close by?”
She nodded, then dug into her purse for something.
“I’m staying at a Howard Johnsons,” she said, shoving a card with the hotel address toward me.
“I think I know where that is,” I said.
She tossed the card back into her purse then pressed her lips together before grinning sheepishly.
“I could tell you that I’ll be fine on my own, but we both know that would be a lie.”
“Yeah,” I said.
My muscles were tense with anxiety as the sirens drew even closer.
“But we have to move,” I said.
I grabbed her hand in mine, eager to get her to move. She didn’t protest, oddly trusting me to lead her. All I could think was with that kind of blind trust, it was easy to see how she had ended up being attacked in the alley.
We hardly spoke as we put an increasing amount of distance between us and the police sirens. Every step we took forward seemed to allow more fresh air into my lungs and a layer of fear to peel away.
The bright lights of the Howard Johnsons hotel were a welcome sight. I sighed audibly. We stopped just outside the front lobby. I released my hold on her hand for the first time since we had started walking. I noticed a brief expression of regret pass across her face. I was surprised to see it since she didn’t know me. She opened her mouth then closed it, biting on the corner of her lip.
“I know this sounds lame, but do you think you could come inside my hotel room for a couple of minutes…”
She paused then exhaled loudly. “I don’t want to admit it, but I’m a little freaked out to be alone.”
I was just about to say no, when I looked into her eyes and saw the fear there. I had seen that kind of look before, on Ma. No matter how much I wanted to get back to the hospital to see Gab, I couldn’t abandon this girl after she had asked me for help.
“Before I go in, do you think we could exchange names?” I said with a half-grin. She blushed until her pale cheeks went rosy. I chuckled at her response that had seemed so genuine and innocent. She definitely wasn’t like the kind of girls that I was usually around.
“I’m Lexie,” she said, with a tentative smile. It seemed crazy that she had been in my arms telling me how good I smelled not long before; now she was shy just saying her name.
“I’m Ransom,” I said.
She nodded then turned and walked through the glass doors of the hotel. I followed, watching her bobbing ponytail move ahead of me. I wasn’t really sure what was going to happen next, only that I was off the streets and safe from the police for the time being.
16. LEXIE
My hand trembled as I slid the key card into the door of my hotel room. I was nervous for two reasons, the first being the obvious, almost getting raped in a back alley had a tendency to shake you up a smidge. The other reason was that I was just beginning to realize that I had asked a virtual stranger to come to my hotel room. Ransom seemed like a nice enough guy, but that didn’t mean that I could trust him. The guy at the bar had seemed okay too, and that hadn’t ended well.
But other then telling Ransom to take off, which seemed quite rude after what he had done for me, I had no idea how I could renege on inviting him in. I wasn’t exactly sure why I had practically begged him to come with me. The copious amounts of alcohol that I had consumed might have had a good part to play in my forthrightness.
I hadn’t been lying when I had said that I was afraid to be alone. After what had almost happened I needed someone there. If I had called Trinity and Aiden it would have meant fessing up to skulking around at night, so I guessed Ransom was it. I hoped I had judged him better than the jerk in the bar.
“Are you sure you’re cool with me coming in…” Ransom said, as if he had been privy to my silent reservations. I spun to face him. In the bright lights of the hotel I caught my first proper glimpse of him. What I saw made my mouth go dry. Ransom was like something from a Hunk of the Month calendar. Sure he was a little dusty and dirt-smudged, as if he had been working in a field all day, but it did nothing to mute his absolute hotness.
“You have blood on your shirt,” I said, noticing the spots of bright red spattered on his front. He glanced down at the bloodstains and shook his head. When he did I tried not to stare at his broad chest, framed delightfully in a too-snug white t-shirt. Or that the fabric of his shirt was flimsy enough that it showed off his washboard abs and hugged his tapered waist.
“It’s not mine,” he said simply.
He ran a calloused hand through his midnight black close-cut hair. I clued in that I was probably gawking a little longer than was polite when he cut his warm chocolate brown eyes my way and winged up an eyebrow.
“I can get you some ice, for your jaw,” I said rapidly, trying to recover my dignity after he had caught me shamelessly staring at him as if he was a steak in the meat counter. I motioned toward a dark purple smudge on his chiseled jawline that was sure to be a good sized bruise. He shrugged as if it didn’t matter, and remained standing in the doorframe like he wasn’t sure if he should come in or not.
“You can come in,” I said, stepping to the side so he could pass. Ransom stood at the doorway for another few seconds then stepped through, closing the door behind him.
“You could probably use a little ice yourself, you slammed that brick wall pretty good.”
He motioned to the back of my head. My gaze locked on his biceps, my all time favorite part of a guy. Matching the rest of his physique, his arms were toned and bulging even though he wasn’t trying to flex his muscles. He scanned the room until his gaze came to rest on the bathroom door.
“Do you mind if I use your…” He signaled toward the bathroom door.
“Be my guest,” I said with a faltering smile. “I’ll get some ice for the both of us.”
As soon as the bathroom door closed behind him, I retrieved the ice bucket from the kitchenette area and slipped out into the hallway to fill it. Only when I tried the door knob to the room after filling the ice bucket, did I realize that it had locked behind me automatically. I was locked out of my own hotel room. I cursed under my breath at being so ridiculously stupid. When I was just about to knock, Ransom opened the door. With his Clint Eastwood permanent squint, his dark eyebrows arched and his lips curved into a wicked smile, my heart did the only thing it could, beat like a drum in my chest.
“Good thing I was here to save your bacon again,” he said, moving out of my path. Though I knew he was making a joke, his words stung, making me feel like a complete needy ass. I brought my eyes to the carpet, moving past him silently. I placed the ice bucket on the counter next to the bar sink.
“That sounded so much better in my head than out loud,” he said as if sensing that he had hurt my feelings. I slowly tied knots on two bags of ice, taking the time I needed to compose myself. Determined that I wasn’t going to come off as a whiny kid who couldn’t take a joke, I painted a fake smile on my face before I turned toward him again.
“Here,” I said, shoving an ice bag toward him, a little rougher than I had planned.
“Are ice bags your idea of foreplay,” he said, tilting his head to the side.
This time my expression must have shown that I was less than impressed with his comment because his face went stony hard.
�
�Yet again I’ve made a dumb-ass comment,” he said with a huge sigh. “Maybe I should just get out of your space.”
“No.”
I practically shouted the word. He appeared startled, so was I. I had no idea why it suddenly mattered that he stayed with me, when not five seconds before I had wanted him gone.
He took a few steps closer to me, then seemed to think better of it and stopped dead. He tugged a hand through his hair then shook his head.
“Sorry, I’m not good with this kind of thing,” he said.
“What kind of thing?” I asked, unsure what he had meant.
He shrugged and looked a bit uncomfortable. “I guess talking to girls…”
His voice trailed off and he appeared almost embarrassed by the statement. If he had said he was a distant relative of George Washington, I wouldn’t have been as shocked as I was by his words. How could someone who looked like him not have talked to girls much, unless…
“So you’re gay?” I said, not sure why I felt so comfortable blurting out whatever came to my mind.
His expression turned thunderous, making me feel like a complete twit for questioning his sexuality. It wasn’t my business if he was gay or straight, and besides it had no bearing on anything.
“Hell no, I’m not gay,” he said aggressively. “Not that there’s anything wrong with being gay, but I’m not…”
He broke off again, as if lost for something else to say.
“Haven’t you ever been on a date? I mean you would have talked to girls on a date right?” I said, knowing I was only digging myself deeper into the hole I was already in. I chalked up my nervousness and stupid line of questions to having practically zero experience with guys.
His brows drew together in an expression that said he was more than a little pissed by my prodding.
“No really, ask me whatever you want. We’ve known each other for what, five minutes? I think it’s about time you know my whole life story,” he said sarcastically. And I couldn’t believe how rapidly he had gone from this avenging angel who had saved me, to a brooding asshole.
“Thanks for the ice,” he said, shaking the bag in my direction. With that he turned on his heel, threw the door wide, stomped out the door and down the hallway.
“Please don’t leave,” I said, surprised that I had actually chased after him, and was now shouting in the hallway of a hotel at 1:30 in the morning.
Ransom stopped dead in his tracks then slowly turned back to face me. His expression had softened a bit.
“I’m sorry if I offended you…I just don’t want you to leave, not yet at least,” I said. Even though we had exchanged only a couple dozen words, the thought of him leaving me felt all wrong. Oddly it mattered that I had upset him, and I wanted a chance to smooth away the effects of my idiotic comments.
“Stay for a drink, it’s the least I can offer you after all you’ve done for me.”
It sounded like something my mother would have said, but from the look in his eyes it had worked to undo the feathers I had ruffled.
“The ice is enough,” he said.
The few steps he took toward me belied his words. He seemed to be contemplating his choices. After a few minutes he shrugged.
“I guess I can come in for a little while more,” he said.
Quite unexpectedly a bloom of excitement swelled in my chest. The more the night unfolded the further I seemed to be drifting from the normalcy of what had always been my life. The long list of never befores were stacking up like a pile of firewood that had been corded for the winter. This latest never before, inviting a stranger, albeit hotter than hell guy, into my room for a drink was definitely not something I could have ever pictured myself doing in the past. The night was beginning to feel like a movie reel of someone else’s life; I half expected to wake up any minute and realize it had all been a dream.
Ransom’s move toward me snapped me back to the moment. He stepped across the threshold and was casually positioned in a solid green fabric lounge chair, before I had a chance to close the door after him. I couldn’t help but admire his complete ease at making himself comfortable in the hotel room. It made me wonder just how many hotel rooms he had been in before.
I moved to the bar fridge, rummaging through the multitude of bottles, trying to decide what my poison of choice would be. I still had a buzz on, but at least my stomach had settled. Having another drink seemed like the stupidest thing I could do, yet I couldn’t expect Ransom to drink without me. I promised my head and stomach, that I would nurse the alcohol as much as was possible without Ransom noticing.
“What would you like to have?” I threw over my shoulder.
“Um, I’ll have vodka and orange juice,” he said.
I startled, realizing that he was crouched right behind me, staring into the fridge with apt concentration. The spicy scent of his cologne drifted off him deliciously. Guys that smelled good were a weak spot for me, it was half the reason I had crushed on Mitch since he had always smelled amazing. But gauging by the way Ransom was eyeing the contents of the fridge, I could sniff him all I wanted because that was as close as I was going to get to…
I shook my head, confused at how whacked out my brain was. Ransom was here on a pity mission, not because we had hooked up in a bar and had come back to have passionate sex. Once again I was stunned at how Ransom was suddenly being featured in a sordid fantasy that was beyond unbelievable. Though it was hard to deny he was some pretty fine eye candy, he was a major league player, I was little league. I was beginning to wonder if I was in shock over what had almost happened in the alleyway, and if the trauma was making me have risqué thoughts about Ransom.
I grabbed two bottles of vodka and a small box of orange juice then closed the fridge. Ransom, who seemed to have the quiet grace of a tiger, was already back in his comfy chair. I strode over to the counter and grabbed two glass tumblers wrapped in sanitary paper. I had no idea how to mix the vodka and orange juice and rather than ask Ransom and show my hand and inexperience, I poured a full bottle into each glass then filled it to the brim with the orange juice.
I carried the drinks over. Ransom seemed lost in thought with the ice pack positioned against his jaw. I questioned what he was thinking about that left him with a far off expression. As well as distance there was undeniable grief in the depths of his soft brown eyes, as if he had seen a life time of pain. Then just like that, he snapped out of it. His face hardened into a stone visage. It was astounding to witness how different he looked in the space of a few seconds, as if all the emotions that made him vulnerable were kept under lock and key.
I passed him a drink, he took it with a nod of his head, letting the bag of ice rest on the arm of the chair. He brought the glass to his full lips, that unlike the rest of his face looked exceptionally soft. He swallowed a long drink of my concoction. The wince that followed told me I hadn’t exactly got it right.
“Too strong?” I asked, nervous tension in my tone.
He gave me a charming grin then shook his head.
“No, it’s perfect, if you’re going for the paint thinner cocktail flavor.”
I cringed, but relaxed when he broke into quiet laughter.
“I take it you’re not a vodka drinker,” he said.
Amusement played in his eyes. I couldn’t help but get lost in the depths of them for a few moments. I caught myself staring at him for the umpteenth time and rapidly averted my gaze. I swallowed a huge gulp of my drink. Ransom had been right, the vodka did taste like what I might have imagined paint thinner would have been like. As the bitter and sweet fluid cut a burning path down my throat, I shivered involuntarily .
“Now that’s a reaction,” Ransom said, laughing again.
His laughter was infectious and before I knew it was happening, I was laughing too. And it wasn’t like the phony giggle I had more times than not felt compelled to put on for Trinity, my dad or even my therapist, this was real. And the action had me feeling as if someone had opened a window of light in
to the darkness that had captured my soul a while back. When our laughter died away we just sat there, silence lengthening between us. I couldn’t deny there was something about him that made you want to be near him.
“So do you live around here?” I said, breaking the quiet. As was always the case, long pauses in conversations made me feel uncomfortable.
Ransom shook his head, but didn’t offer anymore than that.
Taking a clue from before and his obvious need for privacy, I moved on.
“Yeah I’m not from here either, I was coming to town to…”
My words trailed off because I didn’t want to get into talking about Gabriel Sanders, and the depressing details of all that had happened. The last thing I needed was to dredge up all the emotions that were always swirling in my psyche, waiting for an in to completely screw me over.
“With friends,” I amended.
Ransom seemed to perk up at this comment. He leaned sideways against the armrest, taking another swig of his drink. His face was more bland this time, clearly he was getting used to the gross taste. I followed his lead, swallowing another sip, unfortunately it tasted just as putrid as it had before.
“Why didn’t you go home with them, it would have saved you a lot of grief…” Ransom started to say.
“They’re camping,” I cut in.
He nodded. “You don’t like camping?”
I shook my head.
“Not in the least. As far as I’m concerned if there isn’t a shower and running water I’m out. Besides I’m like the third wheel in a bicycle, you know. Aiden and Trinity are totally into each other…”
I heard the sourness in my voice, and despised myself for being jealous of Trinity and Aiden’s relationship.
“That bad,” Ransom said. He arched an eyebrow.
I shook my head, needing to explain that it wasn’t bad at all, in fact, their love for one another made me believe that there were still good things in the world.
I shrugged. “They have it all you know. They adore each other and…” I paused trying to come up with the words to articulate what I was trying to say.
Ransom (Holding Ransom # 1) Page 17