Ransom's Redemption

by Rhavensfyre

  “Yes.”

  “Well, with all due respect for his position, Roy is an asshole.” Victoria took a deep breath and exhaled. “And I’m not far behind.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve been sitting here all this time, expecting something from you that you couldn’t give me, all because someone convinced you that I was going to leave as soon as I got the chance.” Victoria bit her lip before she said something she couldn’t take back. Damn, and I fell right into that trap by threatening to leave today. But Roy? Roy had seriously thrown a monkey wrench in their relationship by butting in like that, and she really wanted to know why. Poor Ransom had been put into an untenable position where she was bound to lose either way, no wonder she suffered so badly these last two weeks. “I can’t excuse myself for my part in this, but I need you to know…I would never have let things get this far if I had known about this.”

  Victoria kissed her, just a quick brush of lips along her cheek, then smiled, almost sadly. “We are a pair, you and I. I’m supposed to be so good at talking to people, yet I keep tripping things up with you left and right. The only right thing I’ve said today is that I’m done. I am done, Ransom. I’m done with fighting. I’m done with us screwing up because we’re not communicating. I’m done with trying to be the careful one. I’m going to be you for a second. Blunt, direct and straight forward. It’s juvenile, and doesn’t even begin to define how I feel about you, but I want you to be my girlfriend. I want us to be together, not because I have a stalker, or just until my stalker is caught, and not when or if you ever deal with your past and all the nightmares that come along with it. I want us to explore what we have now, until there’s nothing else left to explore, then I want us to sit back and grow old together so we can enjoy what we discovered. Is that clear enough for you?”

  Ransom’s body tingled with unseen potential, the raised skin sort of feeling you get when you stand outside in a storm and lightning flashes so close to you that static electricity caresses every nerve ending in your body. The sensation curled in on itself, coiling low in her belly and sending tendrils of liquid fire snaking through her to embrace her heart, melting the fear away. Energy surged through her, the potential demanding action and she vibrated with the need to taste life on the lips of the woman watching her so closely.

  “You are a very persuasive woman, counselor,” Ransom murmured, kissing her soundly before abandoning the sweet taste of her lips for the tender flesh at her neck.

  “It is what I do best,” Victoria managed to gasp.

  “Is it?” Ransom asked, reclaiming the fiery mouth with her lips and tongue.

  ***

  He might think it was his idea to go off on his own but it wasn’t. I’m the one in charge of this game not him.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Ransom plunked a clunky looking plastic box down on the kitchen table and cleared her throat.

  “What is that?” Victoria asked, barely tearing her gaze away from the laptop to spare the box more than a glance. After staring at the screen for so long her eyes protested the lateral movement. She groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose to relieve the pressure, then blinked rapidly to clear her vision. “Argh, I need to find something soon, this is driving me crazy.”

  The likelihood of her finding anything in her files seemed to move farther and farther away with each passing day. There were just too many possibilities.

  “Nothing in your older files either? The one’s from before you started your private practice?” Ransom asked, pushing aside the box for the moment. If Victoria was willing to talk about her cases now, the box could wait.

  “No, nothing.” Victoria shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I’ll be honest with you. I don’t like going through those files.”

  “Why?” Ransom asked, perking up considerably. Now this was interesting.

  Victoria closed the laptop and ran her hand over the smooth surface before leaning back in her chair. “I guess it’s my turn to talk about the past, eh? It’s okay. I don’t mind, not really, because you already know a part of it…you are a part of it. That night we met in the bar, do you remember how screwed up I was? That was the night I made the decision to leave DSS and go to work with Samuel. That was the night I left what little bit of idealism I had behind me, along with my resignation letter.”

  “What happened?”

  “What didn’t happen?” Victoria asked, then shrugged. She had opened up this can of worms, she might as well lay her own cards out on the table. It was only fair, considering how far she’d pushed Ransom.

  “I was tired, Ransom. Tired and sick and wore out from dealing with the bureaucracy and politics. It was all a money game. Cut as much funding as possible, focus on the cases that got air-time that might make us look bad if they weren’t handled right, while families who really needed help were left behind, forgotten or put on hold for so long they might as well have been.” Victoria ran her hand across the laptop again. So many lives inside there, so many lives ruined that could have been saved with the right help. “These cases. It’s painful to revisit them. Joan S. She’s one I remember well. Three trips to the Emergency Room, begged for help to get away from her abusive husband. We tried to get her into a shelter. The last time they called me into the Emergency Room, it wasn’t for her, it was to take her 2-year-old baby girl to a temporary foster home because she didn’t survive the last beating. He was arrested, finally, but it was too late for her.”

  Victoria was on a roll now. “Erica B? She was only 13 when complaints of abuse were somehow ignored or lost. She was subsequently adopted by her mother’s new husband. It was only after he was arrested, again, for drug charges and sexual assault, that DSS discovered he was a known sex offender with prior arrests and convictions in another state. That should have never happened.”

  Victoria blinked away the tears that still tried to fall when she thought of all the pain and suffering she had witnessed over the years. “The list goes on and on.”

  “But that’s not your fault,” Ransom said, she understood politics and bureaucracy. It was a horrible joke in the military that you had to remember that all your equipment, including your weapons, were manufactured by the lowest bidder. That made everything a potential clusterfuck.

  “No, but it still feels like it,” Victoria muttered.

  “I get that.”

  Ransom’s dry, mocking tone got Victoria’s attention. Her head shot up, eyes wide and with such a mortified expression on her face Ransom almost chuckled at her overreaction. “Geez, Ransom, I’m so sorry.”

  “Nothing to be sorry about. We all have our demons to deal with. I’m actually sort of glad you have a few of your own.” Ransom shook her head. “Believe me, I’m the last one to make any judgement calls. I used to be just as idealistic…young and stupid and willing to believe I could make a difference. It didn’t take me long to figure out that life was way dirtier and not quite as clear cut as I had believed.”

  People killing people, that’s what it came down to in the end. In war, that was something humans managed to do pretty efficiently on an insane scale…but it needed individuals willing to play the game to make it work. Ransom had met some downright terrifying people, ones who could kill without remorse or contemplation. The sad thing was, they weren’t even the worst of the bunch. There were truly sadistic bastards out there who weren’t interested in killing their victims…they wanted them to suffer. She had seen those victims first hand, mostly woman and children. A slow shudder rolled across Ransom’s spine and neck, like someone had just walked across her grave.

  It was always the woman and children that suffered the most in any war, as if whatever made men go insane and start killing each other also made them destroy the most innocent among them. That’s what Victoria is talking about, innocent lives damaged and betrayed by those who were supposed to protect them.

  “You’ve gone quiet,” Victoria observed, stroking Ransom’s arm to bring her back from wherever she had
gone off to. “Can you tell me what you’re thinking?”

  “I just realized that we aren’t that different, you and I, despite the paths we’ve taken. We have more in common than I ever imagined.” The two of them might have fought different wars, but they both fought for the same thing, and they both carried the scars to prove it…the good counselor was just too busy trying to help everyone else with their wounds to tend to her own. From what Victoria just told her, she had spent just as much time playing in a war zone as Ransom had. Only her combat time wasn’t spent in some third world country, she had found plenty of cruelty right here at home.

  “Would you care to explain that to me?”

  “Maybe, but not today.” Ransom’s eyes gleamed with secrets she obviously meant to keep. “Today we do something different. Today you learn how to use this.”

  Ransom pushed the plastic box back in between them.

  “Ransom.” Victoria’s voice trembled a bit. Guns scared her. “I’m not sure I need a gun.”

  “Maybe not. I don’t expect you to become an expert, but you should become familiar with it…”

  Victoria held up her hands. “Yes, I know. Just in case, right?”

  “You got it.” Ransom’s grin was fleeting. “But, seriously. This isn’t a joke. You need to become comfortable with this weapon. If I don’t think you can be safe with it, I won’t push you about it, okay?”

  Victoria stared down at the dull gray/black pistol. For something so small, it still looked deadly, and probably was. She shuddered and shifted her gaze back to Ransom’s face. “I don’t know how you’re so comfortable around these things.”

  “Training, necessity.” Ransom’s expression was carefully neutral. “Respect for what it can do is important. It’s designed to kill, Victoria. That’s something you need to realize when you put it in your hand. Never point it at someone unless you’re willing to pull the trigger. That’s lesson number one.”

  “What’s lesson two?” Victoria asked, feeling slightly short of breath. Maybe if she could push her heart back down where it belonged she wouldn’t have to work so hard to breathe.

  “Never give up your weapon. They’re lying if they say they won’t hurt you if you surrender.”

  “Okay.” Victoria took a deep breath. “What now?”

  “Now I’m going to teach you all about this particular weapon.” Ransom picked up the .380 auto and pointed it towards the wall. A tiny red dot appeared in the center of a small painting hanging there. “Laser light. It’s activated by your hand gripping the pistol. It lets you draw and aim in less than a second. At the distances you would need to shoot someone this is all you need to defend yourself. I’m talking maybe 8 to 15 feet at the most.”

  Ransom watched Victoria’s reaction to her speech. She blanched instantly, turning a sickly green when Ransom mentioned shooting someone at close range.

  “Problem?” Ransom asked, laying the pistol back down on the table. Victoria’s eyes followed the path the gun took. She wasn’t fascinated with the weapon; she just couldn’t stop staring at it. This won’t do at all.

  “I don’t think I could do it, shoot someone like that.” Victoria’s voice wavered.

  “Not even to save your own life?” Ransom pressed her. “What about someone else? Someone you cared for?”

  This was a cruel way to do it, but Ransom didn’t have the time to coddle her. This was life or death, and if it came down to it, she needed to know that Victoria was prepared to defend herself.

  “I don’t know.” Victoria’s voice went up several octaves, she was close to panicking.

  “Come with me for a minute.” Ransom stood up and held out her hand. “We’ll leave this here for now.”

  Victoria looked confused, which was just as well. Ransom ran her tongue along the sharp edge of her eye teeth to keep herself from grimacing. She hated playing this game.

  “Sit, relax for a minute. I’ll be right back.” Ransom left Victoria sitting on the couch while she headed for her office.

  The clink of ice on expensive crystal shook Victoria out of her fugue. Ransom stood above her, holding a glass of amber liquid out for her. “Here, take it.”

  Victoria didn’t freak out until she realized that Ransom held a similar glass in her own hand. She didn’t drink. She never drank hard liquor…that’s what she claimed. So why now?

  “Ransom? What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

  Ransom took a sip of her cognac and signaled Victoria to do the same, noting how badly Victoria’s hand trembled when she raised the glass. She didn’t need to lay a hand on her to know her pulse was thumping away like a runaway train.

  “Samuel called me today,” Ransom said, choosing her opening line very carefully.

  “When?” Fear flared in Victoria’s eyes.

  “Right before I joined you in the kitchen.” Ransom put her glass down. She really didn’t drink. The first sip still burned all the way down to her stomach. She didn’t want the alcohol; she had poured a second glass so Victoria wouldn’t feel odd drinking alone. That, and for some reason it comforted her. The reminder of that night in the bar was an isolated spot in time for her, neither past nor present. It stood alone, a moment of perfection she had clung to in her darkest hours.

  “He didn’t want to call me until the police were done with everything.” Ransom smiled grimly. Samuel knew she would question him mercilessly about every detail and wisely waited until he had as much data as possible to give her before clueing her in on the day’s events.

  “Is he okay?”

  “He’s fine.” Ransom watched Victoria sag in relief, then hit her with the rest of the story. “It seems that someone, more than likely your stalker, decided to visit your office early this morning and tear the place apart. Fortunately, it was well before the office was due to open so there were no clients there. Unfortunately, your assistant had come in early to get some extra work done and surprised him. He wasn’t happy to find her there.”

  “Oh, my God! Bridget? What did he do to her?” Victoria’s thoughts immediately ran to that poor PI in the hospital, barely out of the ICU and still unable to give any details on her attacker.

  “She’s bruised up a bit, but nothing’s broken. He was looking for you and when she said you weren’t there, he lost it.”

  Victoria stood up suddenly, almost spilling her drink on Ransom. “I’ve got to go…I need to make sure she’s okay.”

  Ransom pulled her back down on the couch. “No. You don’t. I don’t know if this guy found what he was looking for, but now we know what he looks like. I need you to keep your head on straight and go back through your files. Find out if anyone matches his description. That information will help me protect you.”

  “But!” Victoria protested, still wild-eyed and half listening to what Ransom was saying.

  “Meanwhile.” Ransom inhaled deeply and let it out slowly. She had to be the calm one to balance Victoria’s frenzied response. She raised her voice and repeated herself, more firmly this time. “Meanwhile, I have to ask you again. Can you see yourself using a gun to defend yourself, or someone you love?”

  Ransom sat perfectly still, waiting for Victoria to process everything that had just happened. This would be the deciding moment. If Victoria couldn’t find that part of herself, that hard core inside her soul that could pull the trigger on a human being, even one that deserved it, she never would.

  She wasn’t trying to force Victoria to say yes, she needed to know if there was a yes inside her. If there wasn’t, she would put the .380 away and cling to the woman like Saran Wrap. That was just the way it would have to be.

  ***

  Closer, so much closer.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  A bright light flooded through the window and lit up the living room with a harsh glow that could never be mistaken for anything natural. It was just after sunset, which meant the security lights weren’t even active until a few moments ago when Ransom could honestly say the last bit of daylight had
left the southern sky.

  Ransom rolled off the couch to land silently onto the thick rug insulating the wooden floor beneath her. She crouched there a second, resting on the balls of her feet, the fingertips of her right hand sinking into the thick weave. Her left hand found the 9mm hidden between the cushions, the grip finding her palm in a practiced movement as she drew the weapon from its hiding place.

  “Get down,” Ransom growled, grabbing Victoria’s wrist and dragging her off the couch. Her glass fell to the floor and rolled under the sofa, filling the air with the sweet, burnt toffee flavor of good cognac. “Hush, wait.”

  Scanning the room and the hallway through the open door, she didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. Still, something had to have set off the motion detector—which meant something or someone was outside.

  Looking back over her shoulder, Ransom spoke to Victoria in an urgent tone that held hard iron within it.

  “Stay close, don’t make a sound.”

  Ransom slipped through the house, choosing her steps carefully to avoid the creaks and groans that old wood was prone to protest with as she peered into the darkened rooms around her. She held her gun at the ready and stayed in the shadows as they went, checking to make sure that the doors were still locked and the windows were all still intact.

  Her goal was the laundry room off of the kitchen. It was darkest there, on the opposite side of the house from where the security light had been triggered.

  She stayed low, testing the doorknob to make sure the door was still locked, then peered cautiously out the window before falling back. As far as she could tell, no one was in the house.

  She scuttled closer to Victoria.

  “You’re doing great. Now I need you to do one more thing.” Ransom slipped open the catch to the hidden cellar. “Get inside the safe room. Close the door and slide the bar. Do not open it until I come back and tell you to. Do you understand?”