by Rhavensfyre
Victoria wasn’t far behind her, despite trying to stay awake for as long as possible. Without wanting to wake Ransom, she tried to project calm, carefully brushing the hair away from her face so she could watch for any signs of another nightmare.
She had no idea how long Ransom had stayed with her. Had she left the bed as soon as she had fallen asleep? She would feel awful if Ransom had retreated to the couch because of her.
Victoria climbed out of bed and found her robe. It was time to find out. She couldn’t just stay in bed all day and hide. She had to find out how Ransom was doing after last night.
Surprisingly, Victoria located Ransom in the kitchen—not a place she would normally expect to find her.
Victoria noticed three things immediately. One. A laptop was open and running at the end of the table. Two. Whitman, that traitorous orange fur-ball, was sitting on the kitchen table. And, three?
Ransom was sitting cross legged at the kitchen table, but that wasn't what made her stop in her tracks and scratch her head. Nope. It was what she was wearing. Bright yellow Joe Boxer smiley face boxer shorts and a black form fitting tank top that accentuated just how easily she managed to pull off the Yoga like posture.
Victoria wasn’t sure she could pull off that position so casually and balance on a chair at the same time. What really made her eyes want to pop out of her head was what Ransom was doing at the kitchen table, because it wasn’t the standard fare you’d expect. The table was strewn with a medley of metal bits and pieces. They looked vaguely familiar but didn’t register completely until Ransom brought two of the larger parts together, then manipulated something under her thumb that joined them into a recognizable form.
Ransom was sitting at the table assembling a decidedly wicked looking rifle. With her blonde hair, skimpy outfit and the dull gray/black rifle resting in her hands, she looked like a center fold expose on hot women with guns for Soldier of Fortune magazine.
“Um?” Victoria managed to stutter a one syllable sentence. Sadly, that was all her brain could come up with at the moment. Her tongue felt stuck to the roof of her mouth as she tried to get words out that weren’t even coherent inside of her head.
“Morning,” Ransom said, not bothering to look up from what she was doing. There were a lot of little pins and springs involved in putting a gun together.
“Um…” Victoria tried again, but got just about as far as her first try. She licked her lips before trying to speak again, but that worked about as well as washing up with a piece of sandpaper. Her mouth was even dryer than her lips. Apparently eloquence wasn't going to happen right now.
“Don’t worry, I put a towel down.”
“Huh?” Victoria managed to switch words. Jesus, get it together. It wasn’t like she’d never seen the woman before. True, but not sitting in a kitchen cleaning and assembling guns in her boxer shorts.
Ransom finally twisted around to look back at Victoria. She took in the open mouth and shocked expression on her face.
“A towel, you know…to keep the table from getting gun oil on it,” Ransom spoke levelly, as if it made perfect sense to sit at her kitchen table and clean her weapons. She wasn’t even sure why she had to explain. It was her table and her kitchen, well, technically it was Samuel’s…but that didn’t mean she had to answer to Victoria.
“Okay.” Ransom seemed blissfully unaware of the effect she was having on her, and for a moment Victoria felt lost. What was going on? She was pretty sure she hadn’t imagined last night, her body surely hadn’t. She was still sensitive where Ransom had touched her, the nerves subtly charged with residual energy that hummed whenever her thoughts landed back on last night.
“Do you always clean your guns in boxer shorts?” Victoria mentally clapped herself on the back. Yay!! She had formed a complete sentence this time.
“Only when it’s raining outside,” Ransom quipped. She kept her eyes on the small towel in front of her while she assembled the AR’s bolt. Whitman kept trying to help, and she didn’t want to go hunting for a spring somewhere on the floor.
“So, this is a thing with you? It rains and you strip to your underwear and clean guns?” Victoria tried so very hard to sound casual as she asked the question. She finally made it to the safety of the kitchen counter and found a clean coffee cup for herself.
“Yep.” Ransom managed to keep a straight face as she slid the bolt home before snapping the rifle back together.
“Are you serious?” Victoria turned around and leaned against the counter.
“Maybe.” This time, Ransom looked up when she spoke, her smile widening into an amused grin.
“Would you like breakfast?” Victoria decided to change the subject. She knew she was being teased now.
“Sure, just give me a minute to finish up.” Ransom packed her supplies together quickly, her military training showing in the quick, efficient movements. The rifle went into a hallway closet, taking the acrid smell of metal and gun oil with it. The more familiar pistol stayed on the kitchen table. She didn’t have anywhere to tuck it.
“Um, Ransom?” Victoria couldn’t help herself, she had to ask.
“Yes?”
“What do you do when it snows?” Victoria took a sip of her coffee, then choked and spluttered on the hot liquid when Ransom answered her.
“I sharpen my knives.” Ransom looked up at Victoria, her face carefully blank.
“Are you serious?”
“Absolutely.” Ransom held Victoria’s incredulous scowl for so long that Victoria started to believe her. Then Ransom raised one pale eyebrow, her lips twitching just the slightest bit. Just that and nothing more, but it was enough to ruin the game.
Victoria burst into laughter. “You have one hell of a poker face, Ransom.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment. Here, you’re wearing some of your coffee,” Ransom said, tossing Victoria a dish towel before wandering into the laundry room.
“Speaking of what we’re wearing, what happened to your clothes?”
“I got soaked riding the trails this morning.” Ransom’s disembodied voice carried through the open door.
“Why didn’t you just find something else to wear?” Victoria asked, thinking that was a very reasonable question. Certainly more so than cleaning guns in your underwear.
“It was easier to throw everything in the dryer down here,” Ransom said, reappearing at her shoulder without a sound. She had pulled on a pair of jeans and was absently buttoning them up.
“Don’t do that!” Victoria scolded. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
“Nope.” Ransom refilled her mug and returned to the kitchen table, her bare feet moving as silently as a ghost across the wood floor.
Victoria shook her head, sure that Ransom made a point of moving as quietly as possible after her comment. It wasn’t right, being able to do that so easily, not when she was prone to falling over her own big toe. It might have been her imagination, but even the cat seemed a little jealous right then.
“So, you weren't avoiding me this morning?”
“No, why would I? It was raining, and you were sound asleep. There wasn’t any reason to wake you.” Ransom didn’t mention the rest of it, nor did she explain why she went out into a deluge without any raingear. “You’ll have to wait another day for our run, though. It’s pretty much a crapfest out there right now. I had to take the ATV this morning and from the look of it, this isn’t going to let up anytime soon.”
“No, that’s quite all right.” Victoria sighed. She didn’t have to look outside to know Ransom was right. The sound of the rain beating against the house came in waves, and somewhere in the back of the house a tree branch had started slapping out a secret message against the siding. The rain was turning into a full-blown storm and there was just her and Ransom and last night sharing the house together. How perfect is that? Victoria asked herself, not sure if she was being sarcastic or not. “I’m surprised you went out in all that, even with the ATV.”
&nb
sp; “Still have to check the cameras,” Ransom said, rolling her shoulders to work a few kinks out. This morning’s recon was a bit more exciting than she expected. Slick mud and wet roots made for a slippery ride that required all her skill, and most of her muscles, just to keep from skidding off the side of the mountain.
“Well, considering what it sounds like out there now, I guess I should thank you for letting me sleep in. I was pretty wiped out after last night.” Victoria slid a sideways glance at Ransom. What was up with her this morning? It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate seeing a more playful side of the woman, but after last night, it was just weird. Avoidance technique? Victoria worried her lower lip. This was going to get awkward.
“Yeah, I noticed. Did you know that you drool?” Ransom avoided the obvious gambit with another joke.
“I do not,” Victoria said, instantly indignant.
“Sure you do. You left a giant puddle of drool on my chest.”
“You’re teasing me again, right?” Victoria scrutinized Ransom’s face for the slightest tell.
“Yeah, I am.” Ransom let her smile touch her eyes this time. She might have been teasing the woman to misdirect her, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t fun to do.
“That’s just mean.”
“Sorry.” Ransom grinned. “I was just having fun.”
“I know. Me too,” Victoria admitted, dropping her gaze. Pretending to watch her coffee cool might hide what she was really thinking, but it did nothing to stop her growing frustration. I’m not fooled by this little comedy show, Ransom Greathouse.
“Ah, listen. There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.” Ransom pulled a small plastic box closer to her and unlatched it, then turned the box around.
Victoria peeked inside, then sank down into the seat closest to Ransom, her hands clasped together between her knees. She stared at the gun with the strangest expression on her face, then looked up at Ransom. “What is this?”
“It’s a .380 semiautomatic. Compact, easy to use and a good concealable weapon for a woman.” Ransom pulled out the gun and launched into a quick demonstration. After a few minutes she realized Victoria wasn’t really listening to her. “I thought it would be a good idea if I started training you to protect yourself.”
When Victoria still didn’t answer, Ransom leaned forward. “Is there a problem? I mean, I understand if you don’t like guns. A lot of people don’t. We can start on something else first.”
Victoria, calm, cool and oh, so therapeutic Victoria exploded. “A problem? Yes, there’s a problem. First, we spend all afternoon together for what felt very much like a date. That falls apart. Then I wake up to you screaming, caught up in some night terror that did almost give me a heart attack.” Victoria took Ransom’s hands and gazed directly into her eyes. Her pulse quickened. Part of her wanted to run away from this conversation, but the part that wanted to fight was stronger. She forced herself to smile past the jumbled mess of emotions making her want to cry. “I can’t even tell you what’s going on inside my head about last night. I’m not talking about us sleeping together, or me drooling on your chest. I’m talking about what happened before that. What happened between us. Don’t you think we should talk about that?”
Ransom winced and pulled away. “We don’t need to talk about everything, Victoria. I know that’s the way you roll, but I don’t. Can’t you just let things be?”
“No, I can’t.” Victoria took a deep breath and exhaled. Yelling wouldn’t solve anything between them. Neither would be pushing Ransom to the point of shutting down. “Okay, let’s table that for now.”
The relief flashing across Ransom’s face was short-lived.
“There is something going on. I know it. Your nightmares are getting worse. You’re obviously afraid of something. Now you want me to start carrying a gun? A gun, Ransom? What aren’t you telling me?”
Ransom stood up, very slowly. Victoria took a step back without meaning to. Ransom looked very dangerous in that moment. “I won’t lie. There’s a very good reason why I want you to know how to defend yourself.”
Victoria gasped, her thoughts going immediately to the only other person in her life that mattered. “Is Samuel?”
“He’s fine.” Ransom made a chopping motion with her hand. “It’s the PI he hired. She was involved in a hit and run the day before yesterday.”
Victoria felt the floor drop out beneath her. She licked her lips and had to try twice before she could get her voice to work. “Was it…was it the stalker?”
“We don’t know. Whoever it was covered their tracks too well. As far as the police are concerned it’s just a coincidence. It was late at night. She was wearing dark clothing, and the visibility was poor. Their chalking it up to a drunk driver.”
“Do you believe that?”
“No. But then, I’m paranoid as hell, or so some say.” A toothy grin as sharp and deadly as a sharks accompanied that statement, at total odds with the casual shrug that followed. “We’ll know more when, if she wakes up. Right now she’s in the ICU. Until then, I’m going to assume the stalker knows you aren’t going to be home anytime soon, and that means he might start widening his net. I want you to stay close to me as much as possible, but just in case we’re separated, I want to know you can protect yourself.”
“Oh.” Victoria’s mind spun with the news. Someone had been hurt. Someone had been hurt protecting her. She needed to do more than sit here and wait. Victoria frowned, narrowing her eyes as one idea after another came to her and was discarded. I’m wasting my talent, sitting here being the victim when I could be using my time trying to figure out why this person is doing this.
“Oh?” Ransom interrupted her thoughts. “Just oh?”
“No, not just oh.” Victoria was about to ask for the computer when another thought hit her. She grabbed Ransom’s sleeve. Her words tumbled over each other almost manically “Wait. You said the day before yesterday?”
“What?”
“You said Samuel told you about the PI yesterday. If you knew then why did you wait until today to tell me?”
Brilliant green eyes held Victoria’s gaze steadily before looking away again. “You seemed so stressed out. All you wanted was a few hours, one nice day, where you could forget about the stalker. I thought I could give that to you.”
“That was very sweet.”
“That was a mistake. My job is to keep you safe. I let my emotions get the better of me. It won’t happen again.” Ransom picked up her pistol and tucked it in her jeans. “I need to make a phone call. When you’re ready, we’ll start training.”
***
The problem with sending a hound out on a field hunt is making sure they remember there’s a leash waiting for them at home.
It’s a good thing they don’t know I’m counting on them being a bad dog.
Chapter Eighteen
Ransom spun around to face the window and tried not to let her frustration get the best of her. So far, Samuel hadn’t been able to tell her anything useful.
“That’s too bad, Samuel, any timeline on when they expect her to wake up?”
Ransom was back in her study, slouching in the heavy leather chair she was sure was a leftover from Samuel’s first office, as was the oversized desk that now served as a catch all for her personal papers.
“Not right now. She came through surgery just fine, so that’s good.”
“So, what we have right now is crap. The stalker has basically dropped off the face of the earth. The only person that might be able to identify him is attached to a machine in a hospital, and we still don’t have a clue who the hell this person is,” Ransom muttered. “That doesn’t bode well for a resolution any time soon.”
“Well, when you put it like that,” Samuel coughed into the phone. “No, it doesn’t.”
“Do you think…”
“Hold on.”
Ransom spun back to face the desk and started rummaging for a pad of paper. She could hear him speaking to someone in
the background, their voices muffled and distant, but the other was clearly female.
“I’m back,” he said, just as her fingers found the small packet of letters that had followed her to the Navy Hospital. She had saved them all this time, still unopened, all from Victoria.
“Who was that?” she asked, tapping the packet on the desk. Their contents distracted her. What would she find inside if she dared open them?
“Just Bridget, the receptionist. She had a question about a client.”
“Bridget? Do I know her?”
“No. She came on board right after you left.”
“Does she know about the stalker?” she asked sharply. It didn’t take much for paranoid Ransom to surface.
Samuel chuckled, dismissing her concern instantly. “I don’t think so. I certainly haven’t said a thing. As far as the office knows, Victoria is away on a family emergency.”
“Don’t laugh, Samuel. You know how I am.”
“I know, Ransom, I know. I’m sorry. But look, Bridget’s a good kid, sensitive, smart as a whip and good with the clients. She’s going to school at night to get her degree in psychology. I don’t think she would say anything even if she did know.”
“If you say so, Samuel,” Ransom said, rubbing her eyes to clear them. She was tired, more tired than she was willing to admit after last night. “I’m sorry, what?” She had missed Samuel’s next question.
“How did Victoria take the news?”
Ransom rewound the conversation and found the missed question.
“About the PI? I just told her.”