Ransom's Redemption

by Rhavensfyre

  “I’m BORED!” Victoria exclaimed.

  “Ohhh…kay,” Ransom drawled, wondering what the hell Victoria expected her to do about it.

  “I can’t just sit here and do nothing.” Victoria practically threw herself into the padded corner of the couch. She was pouting, and she knew it, a grown woman practically throwing a tantrum at being stuck inside with nothing to do.

  Ransom sighed; her quiet time was evidently over.

  “You could always read a book,” Ransom suggested.

  “Well, what are you reading?” Victoria pounced, eager for any sort of interaction with another human after being stuck on the computer for so many hours.

  “Whitman,” Ransom answered, then looked down at the orange ball of fur taking over half of her lap. “Duh, Whitman…of course.”

  It was Victoria’s turn to grin at her. “You got me. I love Whitman. The poet…and the cat.”

  Whitman heard his name and started purring. Ransom grunted, then spent a few seconds digging happy claws out of her jean clad thigh.

  “Read something to me?” Victoria asked, catching Ransom off guard.

  “From this?” Ransom’s cheeks burned. The last few pages she had read were from Whitman’s Sing the Body Electric.

  This is the female form;

  A divine nimbus exhales from it from head to foot;

  It attracts with fierce undeniable attraction!

  I am drawn by its breath as if I were no more than a helpless vapor—all falls aside but myself and it.

  It didn’t help that it was Victoria’s face and form that flashed through her mind’s eye while she read. That it was the memory of how she smelled as she lay in her arms last night that drew her breath in and made her helpless. She sure as hell was not going to read those lines to the dark-eyed woman staring at her like a hawk sighting a field mouse in an open meadow.

  “No.”

  “Well, then you need to find something to entertain me.” She had meant it as a joke, but Ransom’s terse response had thrown her.

  “Do I look like the court jester, Your Majesty?” Ransom scowled, tossing the book down as she stood up from the couch, her long legs unfolding from under her gracefully before stalking away.

  Victoria winced; she had probably deserved the sarcasm. Still, she had just asked Ransom to read a poem, not talk dirty to her. There was a difference.

  “Well, there has to be something we can do.” Victoria followed Ransom into the kitchen. Ransom stood at the sink, washing out a coffee cup. She seemed tense, and as the words faded into the air between them, the cup slipped from Ransom’s soapy hands. The sound of porcelain shattering was followed by a creative string of curse words, half of which Victoria was sure she’d never heard before, let alone in those combinations.

  Ransom gripped the edge of the sink and tried to get her shit together. Her favorite mug lay in shards at the bottom of the steel sink. She could feel Victoria’s presence behind her, could count to the exact number how many steps it would take to travel from where she stood frozen and where Victoria waited for her.

  Have you ever loved the body of a woman?

  ...there has to be something we can do…

  The damn poem was stuck in her head; the question that had been left unanswered posing itself to her, Victoria’s voice echoing closely behind.

  “How about we go grab something for dinner? The rain’s let up enough to get out of here and I think we could both use some fresh air,” Ransom blurted out the first thing that came to mind, making a big production of cleaning up the mess in the sink to avoid making eye contact with Victoria.

  “That’s sounds wonderful. Just let me go change.”

  Ransom sighed in relief as Victoria practically bounded up the stairs to get ready to leave. She sagged against the kitchen counter and wiped her hands with a dish towel.

  “Oh, boy. This is going to be fun.”

  ***

  I made Victoria run. I need to remember that. She’s not on vacation somewhere, enjoying a Mai-Tai. That’s got to hurt, being away from everybody she knows, everything she loves. I did that. I made her hurt.

  Now I need to push, to keep her moving, to make sure she feels unsafe no matter where she is or what she is doing. Maybe then she’ll get the tiniest idea how it felt to be me.

  Chapter Twenty

  Like a lot of Ransom’s suggestions, they never panned out the way they originally sounded.

  In other words, Victoria was way overdressed for the hole-in-the-wall Pizza Parlor Ransom drove them to.

  “I thought Samuel said there was only one real restaurant in town?”

  “The Two Sisters? Yeah. It’s the only sit down restaurant worth going to, but I thought you might enjoy something a little different. I wouldn’t quite call Giovanni’s a real restaurant but they make the best pizza in three counties.”

  “Pizza?”

  “Sure!” Ransom grinned enthusiastically. “Just mind where you sit and expect the tables to be a little sticky.”

  Victoria looked down at her silk blouse, then over at Ransom’s flannel shirt. “Okay, give.”

  “You want my shirt?”

  “If you want me to go in there? Yes.” Victoria smiled sweetly. “Silk beats flannel any day, and I’m not ruining this one. You really don’t expect me to spend the entire night remembering to keep my elbows off the table do you?”

  “Fine.” Ransom climbed out of the plain white utility truck she used for maintenance and yanked off her flannel. It was still raining off and on and the Jeep was topless. Victoria slipped the worn fabric on over her shirt and buttoned it all the way up.

  “Uh, no. Not the top button.”

  “Why not?”

  “Just trust me on this.” Ransom reached over and neatly slipped the top button loose, then readjusted her collar. “Well, I have to say you certainly look interesting. You ready?”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be.” Victoria took a deep breath and started their zigzag trek towards the front door. The blacktop shone wetly, reflecting every streetlight and sign in slashes of neon color. She still managed to avoid most of the larger puddles, although Ransom’s penchant for just blowing through them made it difficult.

  Ransom held the door open for her, then politely waited for her to enter first. Victoria balked, craning her head to try and see as much as possible of the interior without actually committing to stepping inside.

  Ransom choked back her laughter. It was starting to pour again, and Victoria was acting like she was sending her into a biker bar. “Why don’t I go first?”

  “Thank you.” Victoria’s relief turned to embarrassment in three strides.

  She was expecting something a little rougher around the edges than the open brick walls and bohemian style atmosphere that greeted her. A few other patrons sat at small, round tables in what she had to admit was a dimly lit, yet cozy setup. They were all young, perhaps college age, but not the disaffected types that sometimes hung out at local joints. If they didn’t seem interested in the newcomers, it was because they were busy chatting amongst themselves or furiously scribbling notes.

  There were a few laptops up and running as well, but no giggling girls snapping selfies or half-drunk frat boys practicing bull calls after slamming shots. It reminded Victoria of a hip coffee bar, reimagined for late night insomniacs with a craving for carbs and good conversation. It was perfect.

  Ransom found them a table in a quiet corner, where she could people watch without being obvious. She didn’t know a single person in there, and that was exactly the way she liked it. That was one of the hallmarks of youth, that anyone a few years older than them simply did not seem to exist…which also meant they didn’t care to know who she was either.

  ***

  “So, just out of curiosity. In your strange little version of rock, paper, scissors…what beats silk?”

  Ransom’s question came out of the blue. With the impeccable timing of any good waitress, she had waited until Victoria was taking
a sip of her beer. Her throat closed, convulsing around the cold drink and creating enough back pressure to send beer spraying back up through the bottleneck. She slammed her foaming beer down and snatched up a pile of napkins, the last thing she needed was to smell like a brewery. And things had been going so well, she sighed.

  “Dammit, Ransom, that wasn’t funny.” Victoria applied the damp towels to the table, wiping up the spill there.

  Ransom shrugged, then stole a pepperoni from what was left of their pizza and popped it in her mouth. “Depends on what side of the table you’re sitting on. It would have been worth it to see you shoot beer out your nose. That would have shown real talent.”

  Victoria silently fumed while Ransom scanned the room around her. Both of them had stopped eating a while ago. What was left of the pizza carcass looked like a culinary crime scene, a rough landscape of pock-marked cheese, cherry-picked toppings and pizza sauce. An hour ago, the pie had looked a hell of a lot more appealing and, true to Ransom’s promise, was one of the better pizzas Victoria had tasted.

  “You know; I was thinking about what you asked. I think bare skin. Yes, bare skin definitely beats out silk. What do you think?” Victoria asked with an air of innocence.

  Ransom choked on her iced tea and almost fell off her chair. Since she had donated her flannel to Victoria, the ice cold liquid spilled down the front of her tank top instead.

  “Christ, that’s cold.” Ransom tried to fish an ice cube out of her bra, then gave up when she realized Victoria was just sitting back and enjoying the show. Ignoring the freezing sensation between her breasts, she tapped her forehead with a couple of fingers in a half-assed salute. “Touché, Victoria, touché.”

  The two women stared at each other, then Victoria bit her lip and Ransom tried to keep a straight face but couldn’t. Before they knew it, they were both giggling in that infectious, can’t stop until your stomach starts to hurt way. A few irritated glances their way let them know they were being too loud. That just made Ransom laugh even harder. What did they know? Part of her envied their carefree lives, but they had no idea how glorious it felt to be alive when you should be dead.

  “What now?” Victoria managed to catch her breath enough to squeak out. It had been a while since she had laughed like that. It felt good.

  Ransom fished out a couple of twenties and slapped them down on the table. “I think we should head back now.”

  ***

  “Huh.” Ransom pulled the truck to a full stop and stared at the house.

  “What’s wrong?” Victoria asked.

  Ransom pointed along the arc of the headlamps. The hazy light danced like smoke in front of the house, everything else was pitch black. “I have security lights right there and there. They should have gone off when we passed that last tree. They didn’t.”

  “Do you think?” Victoria swallowed. She didn’t even want to entertain the rest of the question.

  “I’m not going to assume anything.” Ransom leaned over and popped the glove compartment open, pulling out the familiar 9mm and checking the magazine.

  “I thought you were always armed?” Victoria blurted, surprised to see the weapon tucked somewhere other than on Ransom’s person.

  “I am.”

  “I so do not want to know where you’re hiding a gun,” Victoria chattered, letting her nervousness get the better of her.

  “Party pooper,” Ransom said, flashing a quick smile in her direction. Despite her humor, Victoria shivered at the wolfish grin. That was no cold smile cast in her direction, that was pure heat, one that eagerly welcomed the chase. Yet another mask Ransom hadn’t shown her, and one she would not want to face over the barrel of a gun.

  “Stay here. Lock the doors behind me and keep your eyes moving. I’m going to check the house. If you hear gunshots, you put this thing in drive and head straight back to town and the sheriff’s station, if it’s safe call 911. If you see or hear anything out here, anything at all…hit the horn, got it? But do not get out of the truck till I tell you to.”

  Not trusting her voice, Victoria nodded, sure she looked like a wide eyed extra in a horror movie. As soon as Ransom slipped away, she slid into the driver seat, taking refuge in the residual warmth she left behind. Ransom had disappeared. For some reason, she thought the woman would follow the headlight beams, then realized how foolish that would be. Eyes straining, she had to resist the urge to roll down the window so she could hear better. As it was, she was locked inside a vehicle with nothing but the sound of her heart tapping away like a hammer inside her chest and her breath steaming up the windshield, a rabbit caught in its den while the wolves roamed about outside.

  Angry tears formed at the corner of her eyes. No matter how hard she tried, reality had a bad habit of butting in and ruining a perfectly good evening. She had almost managed to forget about the damned stalker, if only for a few hours. Was that too much to ask?

  Blinding light answered her. Shielding her eyes against the bright glare, she didn’t hear or see Ransom until she knocked on the window. She jumped half out of her seat, hitting her elbow on the steering wheel. The horn blared, her heart jumped out of her chest, and she swore she almost died right then and there from fright.

  “Jesus, Ransom, you scared the crap out of me.” Victoria tumbled out of the truck, her legs not quite working right for some reason, and stumbled into Ransom’s arms. “Did you find anything? Is everything okay?”

  Ransom gazed down at Victoria with a bemused expression. “Yes. The storm took out the power at the house. For some reason, the battery backups in the security lights didn’t kick in. The house is clear.”

  Relief that nothing was truly amiss opened up a floodgate of emotions. Fear of course, followed by anger, both at herself and the situation, then more fear…terror really. The what if’s started rolling in. What if this had been the real thing? What if Ransom had been walking into a trap?

  She clung tighter to Ransom, hating her weakness even as much as she sought out the other woman’s strength.

  “Wait a minute. What’s going on?” Ransom pulled back, searching Victoria’s face and noting the tears staining her cheeks.

  “Nothing. I’m being stupid.” Victoria wiped her face. “I’m acting like some freaking weak kneed damsel in distress…”

  “But I’m no hero, Victoria,” Ransom interrupted her, “and this sure isn’t some crappy pulp novel you buy on a whim at the check-out counter. Although at least I don’t have to shave my chest to look good.”

  Victoria slapped her hand over her mouth, but not before something that sounded like a cross between a snicker and a snort escaped. “Oh, oh, one of those underdressed, hunky types that whisk’s the desperate woman away to his castle and saves the day.”

  “Exactly,” Ransom drawled. Victoria’s emotions were all over the place. She’d seen it before with newbie’s when the realization first hit them that the bullets they were using were real, but more importantly, so were the enemies.

  “It would be downright scandalous,” Victoria whispered, imagining the two of them like this, embracing boldly…perhaps even kissing.

  Imagination brought their lips together and reality followed. It didn’t take much to draw Ransom to her, a simple nudge…a push in the right direction. She was already that close to her. In the drizzling rain, cold, wet and shivering, it was the most imperfect setting for a perfect kiss, but she didn’t care.

  They moved together, finding their own refuge from the pouring rain with each other. Ransom’s kiss tasted like sunlight and honey, and she felt intoxicated just from inhaling her warm breath. Time stopped for her as she reveled in the feel of Ransom’s lips on hers, the universe shrinking until there was just the two of them. It was tempting to remain in that small world, one she wouldn’t have to share with anyone else, but the kiss had to end. Reality could be suspended for a time, but not forever, that was the way it was.

  “Ah, yes,” Victoria stuttered, resting her hand on Ransom’s chest. She backed way, n
ot from her feelings, but from the reasons behind the kiss. “I, um, I don’t know where that came from.”

  Being with Ransom felt so right, but this? Tonight would be for the wrong reasons.

  “Why don’t you go in? I’ll follow in a while. I have to replace those batteries just in case the power goes out again.”

  “Thank you.” Victoria made her way to the house alone. She looked back to find Ransom standing where she had left her, the shadows hiding her face from view as she peered out into the darkness and the night sky. Sighing, Victoria walked slowly through the quiet house, picking up the discarded book of poetry before heading upstairs. Her body sang with the need to feel Ransom’s arms around her again. It wasn’t even a sexual feeling, just an odd sensation that made her feel like she was leaving a part of herself outside with Ransom. She dressed for bed, hoping to find some warmth beneath the heavy coverlets, but she knew she wouldn’t sleep…not until she heard the front door squeak open again. Once Ransom was safely back inside the house she would rest, but not until then. Victoria pushed her pillows up against the headboards and opened up her book.

  “Until then, Whitman, it’s just me and you.” The orange tabby stopped chasing a dust bunny in the corner and meowed at her, then sauntered over and jumped onto the bed. Full of self-importance and demanding attention, she gave in and scratched his head. She hadn’t meant that Whitman, but she wouldn’t tell him that.

  ***

  Someone really ought to update their firewall. As close as I’m getting to her, she’s getting to me…if she can figure it out in time. The game is getting more interesting by the minute.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  About two miles into their morning run, Ransom signaled for Victoria to stop.

  “What’s going on?” Victoria asked.

  “Shh. Quiet.” Ransom scanned along the trail, doing a complete 360-degree spin before returning her attention to the ground in front of her.