Ransom (Courting Chaos Book 2)

by Heather Young-Nichols

  “Ransom.” I bit my bottom lip as I waited for what he might say. I didn’t need declarations, but I had been the one to mention it first. It’d been an accident to begin with and I didn’t want our entire relationship, if that was what it was, to be started by an accident.

  Ransom responded after a moment. “Look, when you said… well, what you said, I got the impression that one, you didn’t say it on purpose, and two, that once you said it, you were embarrassed. Am I wrong?”

  It took me far longer than it should have to answer him. “You’re not wrong.”

  “OK, well, the picture, the name change… it’s so you weren’t embarrassed by accidentally calling me your boyfriend. This way it wasn’t an accident.”

  Still, I said nothing because I loved that he wanted to help, yet it didn’t actually help.

  “Would it help if I told you something that would embarrass most people?” he asked. “I can’t help that it doesn’t embarrass me.”

  “I think that would help immensely.”

  “OK.” He cleared his throat. “I started falling for you long before you even gave me the time of day. Back when you first got here and acted like you didn’t know I existed.”

  I giggled. “I knew you existed before I met you.”

  He sighed as if I was purposely being difficult. “You’re killing me.”

  Now I had to laugh louder. “Sorry.”

  “So we do need to talk about our situation, though.”

  “I know.”

  “I’ll go first,” he said. “I want to be with you, but…”

  I groaned internally. There was always a but.

  “I want to get this thing with Hope settled without drawing you into it further,” he finished.

  “I don’t know what that means,” I said honestly.

  “It means… I want to spend time with you. I want to spend nights with you, if you’re up for that. I don’t want either of us to be seeing anyone else. I just don’t necessarily want to do it publically until the press over Hope dies down. And I swear we’re working on that. I don’t want you to think I’m hiding you.”

  Thinking over every single word he said twice made sense so I could understand exactly what he was asking for. I didn’t want to be talked about in public. Didn’t want people taking my pictures because I was with him… if I was with him.

  “I agree to this proposal,” I finally said.

  Someone called his name in the background. Who, I couldn’t tell. “I guess I have to go.”

  “I guess you do.”

  We said goodbye and while I’d hate to admit it to anyone out loud, I waited until he ended the call before pulling the phone away from my ear and returning to the kitchenette where Indie now was.

  “How’d that go?” she asked, as if she knew who’d called and what he’d wanted.

  “Good enough.”

  “Good enough is good enough,” she said back before we both burst into a fit of laughter.

  We were on the bus another couple of hours before pulling into a large parking lot at the hotel. The buses would drop us off there and go to the venue until after the show tomorrow night. It took time, but I’d started to learn the process. In that time, Indie had finished packing her overnight bag and had talked to her dad. I packed up anything I thought I’d need for a single night in a random hotel.

  “Oh my god,” I said as I stretched. “It feels so good to be off the bus.”

  Indie laughed at me. “Wait until we go out west. Such long stretches of highway.”

  “But better ways to pass the time,” Ransom said, coming up behind me.

  I turned quickly with a big cheesy grin on my face. We’d been on the bus for almost twelve hours with all the stops for gas and hadn’t left Myrtle Beach until after midnight. I had no idea what the holdup had been and I didn’t care once I stepped out into the warm Miami sun. We were going to have an epic girls’ night out. But first, hanging at the pool, soaking up the rays, then dinner and a shower. If we were lucky, dinner would be poolside. I’d never dreamed I’d be traveling the way I was with Indie. This was a magical summer.

  He leaned in and dropped a kiss softly to my lips before pulling away. “Cross’ll be out in a minute.” Indie gave him a thumbs-up so he’d know she’d heard him.

  “What’re you guys doing today?” she asked while he clasped my hand in his. “Bellamy and I are hanging at the pool all afternoon before going out tonight. Tiny bikinis will be worn.”

  I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. As if she needed a tiny bikini to entice the guys.

  “We have to meet later when Booker gets back, but I think we can squeeze a few hours out this afternoon.”

  “If you’re wearing a tiny bikini, I’m staying inside today,” Cross said as he slapped Ransom on the shoulder.

  “Please,” Ransom said with an eye roll. “You wouldn’t be able to keep your eyes off me.”

  “Probably not, but we’ve got work to do,” Cross told him to both Indie’s and my disappointment.

  Another quick kiss later, and the guys left us to do whatever it was they did when we weren’t around and we went to find our rooms. We both dropped our bags in her room and changed. Then it was off for a lazy afternoon in the Miami sun. Though given my paleness, I completely covered every inch of exposed skin with the highest SPF sunscreen I could get my hands on. Indie had brought her own because she’d said that mine was so strong, it’d actually make her paler.

  She’d insisted we reserve a spot by the pool that included a canopy. We’d still get to enjoy the warm air without the sun poisoning, she said.

  “Did you register for classes?” Indie asked me as we rested on these very comfortable Adirondack chairs under the canopy.

  “Yup. Ordered my books online.”

  “Me, too.” Indie turned to face the fun and took a deep breath before facing me again. I watched from behind dark sunglasses and wondered how long it would take her to speak her mind. “Are you… staying and going back with me right before classes start?” she finally asked.

  I pushed myself up in the chair and pulled my glasses off. “Is that what you want?”

  “What I want?” She repeated my movements of sitting up and glasses off. “Are you insane? I’ve been trying to get you here for… well, forever. Of course I want you to stay, so I’ll plan on the two of us flying back the week before school.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” I said with both thumbs in the air.

  She dropped back in her chair and stretched her legs out. “Plus, more time with the boyfriend.”

  “I don’t want to spend time with your boyfriend,” I said back.

  Indie snorted and raised a middle finger my way. I chuckled quietly as I shut my eyes to continue to soak up the beautiful afternoon. I’d never been to Miami before and I wasn’t about to miss out on it.

  “Plus, now that you and Ransom are a thing—” she said.

  I cut her off. “We’re not a thing… exactly.”

  “Who’s not a thing?” Ransom asked suddenly under our canopy with Cross.

  Cross kneeled on Indie’s chair, then crawled up until he rested between her legs, his arms around her body, and his head on her stomach like he was holding on to the most precious thing in his life. Hell, he probably was. He did it so naturally that I’d admit I got a little jealous at how comfortable those two were with each other.

  Ransom sat near the bottom of my chair. I pulled my legs into a pretzel to give him more room, which made him furrow his brows at me. As if I’d done it to move away from him when in reality, that hadn’t been the case at all.

  “So… who’s not a thing?” he asked again.

  “Apparently, you and her,” Indie answered before I had the chance.

  I turned my head slowly toward her with my best wide-eyed glare. How dare she out me like that? She should’ve been terrified that I was going to murder her because that was a real possibility. Instead, she gave me a sweet smile.

 
“You suck,” I muttered. They still heard me. Ransom raised an eyebrow at me and heat rose in my cheeks. “I added exactly at the end,” I pointed out. He didn’t flinch and continued to stare. “Ugh, I just meant… ”

  He smiled widely. “I’m fucking with you.”

  Cross chuckled from against Indie’s stomach. Assholes. The both of them. They only stayed a few minutes before mumbling something about getting back to work. Cross gave Indie a quick kiss and I figured Ransom would do the same with me, but when he went to kiss me, his lips lingered. I wasn’t about to complain.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Ransom

  It’d been a long time since the entire band had shared a bus. With the money we were making on this tour and how big it was, we could afford to split up into two buses. A fact that I’d been incredibly grateful for when everything had come out about Eric. Though I had to wonder how Dixon had made it through having to share with him, but we hadn’t talked about that.

  When we finally arrived in Miami, I already had my bag packed and ready to go. This was something we were used to, but really, I wanted to see Bellamy for a few minutes. Indie talking about tiny bikinis didn’t help me get Bellamy off my mind or help my focus on what we were supposed to be doing today.

  “That’s awful,” Dixon said, pulling me from my thoughts of Bellamy at the pool. “A crime against music lovers everywhere.”

  “It’s not that bad,” Cross countered.

  “It might be a crime against humanity.”

  I snorted, which only reminded the two of them I was still there.

  “Listen, if either of you would like to write some songs, I’d be happy to lend you a pen,” Cross continued.

  “I think we’d both rather be able to blame you for our shitty songs,” I said.

  Cross raised a middle finger at me. Dixon chuckled as he pulled his guitar from its case. Meaning I needed to do the same. When I played through a couple of random practice cords, my hard was a little stiff but not horribly painful from the fight. I could play. A little at least. Cross wrote the vast majority of our songs, but we worked together to get the music down. Not exactly how I wanted to spend the day, but without new music, we wouldn’t get our next album together in time.

  “Besides,” Dixon said after we’d situated ourselves in a crude circle facing each other, “do you really think his songs would be any better?” He pointed at me.

  “What?” I asked back.

  “You’re as lovesick as he is.” He nodded his head toward Cross.

  “The fuck I am.”

  “It’s disgusting, really.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Cross countered, his arms folded over his chest. “I love Indie, but I don’t think that’s made my songs bad.”

  “I have to agree that the last one we worked on was bullshit, but other than that, I think they’re still fine.” It took a lot of work for me to keep from smiling as I said that.

  “Fine?” he countered. “Fuck you both.”

  “At the same time or separately?” Dixon quipped back. And with that, the three of us lost it. “All right,” Dixon said loudly once our laughter had quieted. “I suppose we should actually work.”

  The three of us settled in and I couldn’t help but think that Booker should’ve been there for this. And he would’ve been had he not gone off to deal with my problems. But alas, we’d have a good start when he got back.

  Hours later, my fingers were numb from playing my guitar and my knuckles had started protesting a while ago. I needed a break. Everyone needed a break. Cross had the fantastic idea to pop in on the girls at the pool. We wouldn’t be able to join, not really, because we had to be back there for when Booker got back. I tried to play it cool on the outside, but his trip to New York was all I could think about, even while playing my music.

  Even with all of that, I never didn’t want to see Bellamy.

  We only spent about five minutes down there with them, but I didn’t care. I still got to see her. So much jealousy ran through me, though, when Cross cuddled right up to Indie. I couldn’t do that and it was my fault. I was the one who’d told Bellamy that we should keep our distance publically. The hotel pool was as public as anywhere and if I wanted to protect her from the ugliness in my life, I had to keep at least a little bit of distance. Yet even with wanting to keep her insulated from my world for a while, I couldn’t help but drop a kiss on her lips before we left. It wasn’t nearly as quick as Cross’, and yet the kiss still didn’t last nearly long enough.

  Lawson had some food sent up to the room because that was exactly where he expected us to wait for Booker. And wait we did. So long that I thought he’d never actually come back, as if he decided Courting Chaos stayed too true to their name and he’d bolted for another band.

  Finally, Booker walked into the room and all thoughts about him absconding were gone.

  “Oh, thank god,” he said as soon as the door closed behind him. “Pizza. I’m starving.” He dropped into a chair at the small table while the rest of us watched him, waiting for some kind of bomb to go off.

  He inhaled the first slice, then drained half a bottle of water before taking a second piece. Growing impatient, I took a deep breath so I wouldn’t snap at him. He’d spent a lot of time on airplanes to do me a favor.

  “OK,” he said and he swallowed again. “Last night after we talked, I sent some messages to some people my dad knows.”

  “Because… ” I drew the word out so that he’d explain himself.

  “They could get some work done before I got up there.”

  “You’re fucking killing me,” I said.

  “OK, OK.” He dropped his third slice of pizza and turned to us.

  Lawson hadn’t come back yet, which may have been for the better. He didn’t need the details and honestly would probably have tried to talk us out of whatever we decided to do.

  “So I went up to meet with this doctor, but I wanted one of my dad’s friends to do some digging for me first. Pre-digging, as it were.” He took another drink.

  “What’d you find?” Dixon asked.

  “That doctor is bullshit.”

  “What’d you mean?” Cross asked before I had the chance to.

  “I mean that if someone actually wanted some prenatal care, they wouldn’t go to that guy. He’s the guy people go to when they want a fake excuse for work or to file for disability or medical marijuana. I’m not even completely sure he still has a medical license. At the very least he’s about to lose it. Offer him a little cash and he’d help you fake a pregnancy. Wouldn’t even care why.”

  “Yeah, but do you have any proof of that?” I asked because that was what I needed.

  “Oh, I’ve got all kinds of proof.” Booker pulled a file folder out of his bag and handed it to me. “Everything’s in there. The guy might be shady as all hell, but he keeps records. My guess is to cover his own ass. Everything’s available for the right price, though.”

  The room went silent. It took me a full minute before I opened the folder and began reading. There were original test results inside, the one that said her pregnancy test was negative, then the doctored one that said she was. What surprised me the most was the doctor included, I assumed faked, medical records of a miscarriage. No date on it, though, so I guess it would’ve been up to Hope to decide.

  So that was her plan. Get me on board with trying to be together for the baby, then fake a miscarriage. I’d be an even bigger asshole than I already was if I left her after she’d lost my baby. She’d have me backed into a corner.

  “So what’re you going to do about it?” Cross asked as if I had any idea what I should or would do about it.

  Instead of answering, I blinked at him. A whole bunch of times. Until I finally said, “I have no idea.”

  “I have an idea.” Dixon swung his legs over the side of the bed he’d been lying on and sat up. “You call that bitch out. In public.”

  “And how exactly do I do that?”


  “Take her out. Confront her. Let her hang herself with her lies.”

  “And how will that help?” Cross asked.

  “Easy. If Ransom takes her out in public, you know that she’s going to tell people to ensure there are photographers around. After Drink, any controversy involving us is being followed pretty damn closely. If there are others around, she can’t get out of it.”

  Booker snapped his fingers and pointed at Dixon. “That’s pretty good,” he said.

  “I agree with it being around other people at least,” Cross said.

  I took and deep breath, then sighed. “Yeah. OK. I can do that.”

  I pulled my phone out of my pocket and chose her name from the list. Removing her information would be a good day for me. Unfortunately, she answered.

  “Come to your senses?” she asked instead of saying hello like a normal person.

  “You in Miami?” She’d been hanging around enough that I figured she was. Like a fan following their favorite band on tour though she wasn’t really a fan.

  “Maybe. Why?”

  “Hope,” I said with a sigh.

  “Yeah. I’m here. Now why?”

  The words I was about to say burned my throat before I even said anything, but there wasn’t really a choice. “Are you free for lunch tomorrow? One o’clock?”

  “I think I can squeeze you in,” she said, but I could hear the fucking smile in her voice. “Does this mean you’re willing to give us another go?”

  “Let’s talk tomorrow.” I swallowed back the feeling growing in my stomach. The tight one that happened when I had to do something I didn’t want to. “We can talk about the appointment next week.” Booker slid me a piece of paper with the name of a restaurant, so I told her, “Ritchie’s at one, then?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  I ended the call, then looked around at each of them. “Well, that makes me a little nauseous.”

  “Maybe next time you’ll be more careful who you hook up with,” Dixson said with a laugh.

  “Or there could just not be a next time,” Cross countered. “Stick with Bellamy. She’s the real deal.”