Release: A Ransom Novel

by Rachel Schurig

  “You doing all right, man?” Lennon asks hesitantly. “You seem pretty worked up lately.”

  I sigh, glancing around to make sure we’re alone. Our security guards cleared out this part of the burger joint for us, and I’m grateful. Between the cameras and the fans, I’m starting to get sick of people looking at me all the time. “I’m just tired,” I tell Lennon. “The camera crew is actually a giant pain in my ass. So, it’s pretty awesome when you guys act like dicks about it.”

  They have the decency to look a little guilty. “Why’d you agree to it, man?” Cash asks. “Don’t tell me you’re honestly doing this because some dumb ass reporters wrote some nasty stories about me.”

  I look around at my brothers. For once they’re not teasing or being jerks—they all look genuinely curious about my decision. And maybe a little concerned.

  “Sienna’s pregnant.”

  You could hear a pin drop in our section of the restaurant. The three of them gape at me for so long I start to wonder if maybe they didn’t hear me. Lennon’s mouth is hanging wide open, his last bite of burger clearly visible.

  Cash finds his voice first. “Seriously?”

  I nod. For some reason their reaction makes me feel overwhelmingly sad. I guess whenever I’ve pictured us getting old and boring, I always thought we’d do it together. Like, maybe we’d have wives and families and live close by. Teaching each other’s kids how to play guitar. Maybe even drag a passel of kids around on tour, if we were still playing. That future seems to fade away with the looks on their faces—shock, disbelief, pity. Even sadness, maybe. They’re sad for me.

  I push my burger away, no longer hungry.

  “So, you agreed to stay with her for the baby,” Daltrey says slowly.

  I shrug. “I told her I would keep an open mind. For now we’re pretty much just playing to the cameras.”

  “Why?” Cash asks bluntly. “I mean, not to be a dick, man, but if you’re not actually together, why are you pretending?”

  “Sienna is terrified of appearing to be alone right now. I felt bad for her.”

  “Why would she care?” Lennon asks. “I mean, why does it matter to her what people think?”

  I laugh at his naivety. “You have no idea, man. Her entire life, her career, everything, revolves around what people think. For whatever reason, she’s completely overwhelmed about doing this show while pregnant and alone. Like, freaking out about it. So I said we could just play along for a while and see what happens.”

  “What could happen?” I look over at Cash—he, out of everyone, seems the most affected by my news. He still looks slightly horrified. “I mean, if you don’t love each other, what could happen?”

  “I don’t know.” I sigh again. “All I know is that she’s pregnant and she’s scared and I’d be a giant dick to not go along with a few camera crews if that’s what will make her feel better.”

  “What about the baby?” Daltrey asks, his voice low. “Jesus, dude. A baby.”

  “I know.” I grab a napkin and start shredding it so I won’t have to look at them. “I’m going to be there for it, of course. Whatever happens with Sienna.”

  “Are you scared?” Daltrey’s voice is practically a whisper now. The pity in it makes me want to punch him—or cry.

  “I’m terrified, kid.”

  “I’m sorry this is happening, man.”

  I shake my head at him. “Not your fault I was stupid.”

  “You’ll be good at this, Reed.” I look over at Lennon in surprise. “Really. You’ll be a great dad.”

  “I don’t know about that.”

  “Oh, come on. You’re like, ridiculously responsible.” He grins at me briefly before going on. “And you’ll be totally good at teaching it stuff.”

  “He has a point,” Daltrey says, meeting my eyes. Suddenly I have a memory of him, a little, gangly boy, learning to ride his bike. Mom wasn’t gone yet, but she may as well have been with the amount of time she was spending away. And Dad was still playing gigs with his band every night, sleeping most of the day. It had fallen to me to teach Daltrey to ride his bike. He learned quickly and soon was following Cash and me around all the time—a fact for which Cash claimed he had never forgiven me.

  “Thanks,” I mutter, slightly embarrassed. We’re not really a touchy-feely family and this conversation is skirting dangerously close to that territory.

  I realize that Cash is being uncharacteristically quiet. “What?” I ask, trying to catch his averted eye. “What are you thinking about?”

  He doesn’t meet my eyes. “I just think you should be careful, man.”

  “Careful about what?”

  “Getting more involved with her.”

  I stare at him, incredulous. “She’s having my kid, Cash. You think we won’t be involved?”

  “I think you can raise a kid with someone without being involved in each other’s personal lives.”

  “That worked out real good for us,” I mutter. “One of our parents being AWOL. I remember it being a blast.”

  He glares at me. “I didn’t say AWOL, man. Of course, you’re not going to do what Mom did. But that doesn’t mean you need to be with Sienna, and you know it. She treats you like shit.”

  “She does not—”

  “She does. You might have been too drunk to remember everything you told me that first night in Mexico, but I do remember. You were miserable with her, man. You think that’s going to be good for the kid?”

  “Shit, dude, it’s not like I’m going to marry her—”

  “Naw, you’re just going to pretend to date her. Let her cameras follow you around even when you hate it. Keep yourself from being with someone who might make you happy just to save her reputation.”

  There’s something about the way he says the word someone that hits me like a punch to the gut. He didn’t say her name, but I know without a doubt that he’s talking about Paige.

  Suddenly, I’m pissed. Does he really think I need a lecture? Does he really think I need reminding that the situation is fucked up? What does he expect me to do? Before I can go off, he raises his hands in submission.

  “Look. You’re my brother and my best goddamned friend in the world. I’m going to support you no matter what.” He grins a little. “And I’ll be the best uncle to that kid, you better believe that.”

  “Fuck, he’s going to be getting your child women before he turns thirteen,” Lennon mutters half under his breath but Cash ignores him.

  “All I’m saying is that you deserve more than some bullshit farce, okay?” He’s looking right at me, his expression about as serious as I’ve ever seen it. “You deserve to be happy, man. Honestly happy. Not just responsible. Not just the guy people can count on. You deserve to be happy.”

  I have to look away so he doesn’t see how hard his words hit me. To my eternal gratefulness, he picks up his burger as if nothing had just happened. “I’m not going to bring it up again,” he adds. “Just know that we want that for you, Reed. We all want you to be happy.”

  My other brothers murmur their agreement before reaching for their own food. I breathe a sigh of relief, hoping the conversation is over.

  But just before I take a bit of my own burger, Cash adds a final caveat. “And we’re here for you if you need us. No matter what.”

  I find Paige on the tour bus the next morning, her head bent over her laptop, tongue between her teeth as her face screws up in concentration. She looks so freaking adorable—but no, I can’t be thinking like that. I’m determined not to hurt her again, not for any reason.

  She must sense me standing in the doorway because she looks up suddenly and grins at the sight of me. In spite of my just finished lecture, her smile makes my chest feel warm. Rein it in, buddy.

  “You’re still working?” I ask. “I was hoping you might be finished.”

  “I am, actually,” she says, snapping the lid of her laptop closed. “I’m still trying to get that festival poster right, but it’s not due to Dan un
til next week.”

  I throw myself onto the couch across from her. “Does that mean you’re free? Because, we actually have some free time and I need to get the hell out of here.”

  She raises her eyebrows at me. “Long day?”

  “It’s the fucking cameras,” I groan, throwing a pillow over my head. “They follow me everywhere.”

  “Isn’t that kind of the point?”

  I remove the pillow so I can scowl at her. “Very funny, miss smarty pants.”

  “Smarty pants? Ooh, burn.”

  I throw the pillow at her head but she bats it aside with a laugh. “Sorry, Reed. I can’t imagine actually being on display like that.”

  “You’d think I’d be used to it, with performing and all the interviews we’ve done. But in those situations, I don’t have to try to be natural, you know? Like, it’s obviously an interview or a performance or a music video. It’s not someone just following me around, urging me to act natural.”

  She makes a face. “That sucks.”

  “They keep telling me that I look too rehearsed and I need to go about my day as I would normally. But I don’t normally have a freaking camera shoved in my damned face, do I?”

  She laughs and stands up, carrying her laptop back to her bunk. She stands on her tiptoes to place it on her mattress and I have to look away from the sight of her bare stomach when her tank top rides up. “It does sound like you need a break,” she says, rejoining me at the couch.

  “Tell me you have one of your silly Paige outings planned,” I beg. “There has to be some crazy road trip stuff in Detroit, right? So what’s on your list?”

  She crosses her arms. “I’m sorry, I’m still a little caught up in your use of the word silly back there.”

  I hang my head in mock shame. “I’m sorry, Paige. You know I meant amazing. Please forgive me and take me to go see the world’s largest tire, or whatever the hell they have here.”

  She laughs. “You know, they actually do—have the world’s largest tire, I mean. I think we’ll pass it on the highway tomorrow.”

  “But not today?”

  She shakes her head. “Not today. Today I have something a little more involved planed—if that’s not too silly for you, of course.”

  “What is it?” I ask immediately. I might tease her about her list of road-side oddities, but the truth is, they’ve become a highlight of our trip.

  “I thought we would go up to Frankenmuth, but it’s a few hour’s drive so if you don’t have the time today—”

  “I have the time,” I assure her. I put in my hours with the camera crew and I am determined to spend the rest of the day as I please.

  “Awesome. I think it will be really fun.”

  “One little problem—I have no idea what the hell a frankenmuth is.”

  She grabs her sweater from the back of the kitchen chair and pulls it on. “It’s not a what, it’s a where. A city north of Detroit. They call themselves Little Bavaria, apparently they have all kinds of kitschy, German shops.” She sits down to pull on her tall black leather boots and I silently curse them. They’re the sexiest fucking things I’ve ever seen and I can hardly handle myself when she wears them. It takes me a second to realize that she’s still talking. “But the kitschy shops are not our primary target.”

  “No?”

  Finished with her boots she straightens up and smiles at me. “Nope. Apparently they have—get this—the largest Christmas store in the entire world.”

  “The largest Christmas store? But Christmas is over, Paige.”

  She shakes her head. “Not up there it’s not. It’s always Christmas. Twenty-four-seven, fifty-two weeks a year. Actually, probably not the twenty-four seven part, I’m sure they close at night. But they are open year round.”

  “But why would anyone want to shop for Christmas stuff in March?”

  She looks at me like I’m dense. “Because you can?”

  I laugh. “Fair enough. Okay, so we’re going to drive two hours to check out the world’s largest supply of Christmas ornaments. Sounds totally rational.”

  “Not just ornaments. They have lights and trees and nativity sets and all kinds of stuff.”

  “Sounds like a totally rock and roll way to spend a free day. Let’s go for it.”

  She laughs. “I already asked Daisy and Daltrey. And Lennon, too. They were slightly more skeptical than you, but I think I sold it.”

  I have to snort at that. “I’m sure you did.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Paige

  The drive up to Frankenmuth takes an hour and a half. Because there is a much greater chance of recognition when there’re more than one of the boys out somewhere, we have to take security with us. This turns out to be a positive though, because they always insist on driving, which means the five of us can be obnoxious in the back seats.

  “I’m so excited for this,” Lennon says as we pull out onto the freeway. His voice is flat and about as far from excited as humanly possible.

  “Hey, no one made you come with us,” I point out. “You could have stayed back at the hotel with Cash.”

  Lennon affects a mock shudder. “No thanks. He’s been hitting on that girl at the hotel bar since we got to town. He literally has no shame.”

  “Well, we’re going to have a much better time, anyway,” Daisy says loyally.

  “Of course,” Daltrey agrees. “I can’t think of anything more fun than looking at Christmas bullshit in March.”

  “But, then we can say we’ve been there.” I don’t understand why I’m the only one who seems to get this. “You don’t get within a hundred miles of the World’s Largest Christmas store without stopping to go in.”

  “I agree,” Reed says and I shoot him a thankful look. “They also have fudge there, so I’m not complaining. Here, I brought some cards. I figure we can play poker to pass the time.”

  He deals out the cards and we spend most of the drive up playing, using sticks of gum from Daisy’s purse as chips. I win four out of the six hands and by the time we exit the highway near Frankenmuth, Lennon has vowed not to play with me anymore. “It’s freaky. You shouldn’t be that good.”

  I shrug. “I have good luck.”

  Reed, sitting next to me on the bench, leans in close, so only I can hear him. “Okay, so you’re a straight A student, an expert at sandcastle engineering, a pro at pulling off fire-emergency-roadside-midnight-birthday-picnic-parties, and now I see you’re an ace poker player. What other surprises are you hiding up your sleeves?”

  He’s sitting entirely too close to me. The heat from his body feels scalding to my overly-sensitive skin. What other surprises am I hiding? I think. How about the fact that I’m head over heels in love with you, Reed Ransome.

  Instead, I plaster a bright smile on my face. “Have I told you about my blue belt in taekwondo?”

  He throws his head back against the seat edge and laughs, the sound full-throated and so masculine it gives me shivers. “Of course, you’re a blue belt in taekwondo,” he says, wiping his eyes. “God, you kill me.”

  “What?” I’m slightly confused by his reaction. I don’t think Reed would make fun of me, but it almost feels like he is. “What’s wrong with being good at taekwondo?”

  “Nothing,” he says, still laughing. “Nothing at all. It’s just half the things out of your mouth are totally unexpected.” His eyes flicker up and down my outfit—tight dark wash jeans, knee high black boots, purple tank-top and black leather jacket—and an appreciative look comes over his face. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for someone who practices taekwondo, that’s all.”

  “It’s very good for focusing,” I tell him seriously.

  He nods, the appreciative look still on his face. “I’m sorry I laughed, but I meant it as a compliment, Paige. Talking to you is always unexpected—you keep me on my toes. And it’s very fun.”

  I feel my cheeks warm under his praise. I want to throw myself at him, promise him every day will be fun if he would j
ust give up that witchy actress and love me. Get a grip, Paige, I tell myself, turning to the window in an attempt to distract myself from the tempting nearness of his lips. He’s your friend. That’s it.

  “Why are there so many farms?” Lennon asks, and I could kiss him for the distraction. “You’ve taken us out into the middle of nowhere so you can murder us, haven’t you?”

  “Yes,” I tell him gravely. “Frank and Benny are in on it.”

  “There really are an excessive amount of farms,” Daltrey says.

  “Yeah, it feels like being back at home,” Daisy mutters.

  “Ooh, look!” I cry, pointing out the front window. “I think that’s it!”

  “What was your first clue?” Lennon asks. “The twelve foot high nutcracker statue or the plethora of decorated Christmas trees?”

  “This is going to be awesome,” I tell him happily.

  “Is there food in there?” Daltrey asks. “I’m starving.”

  “Maybe we should hit the town first,” I say. “There’s supposed to be an amazing fried chicken place.”

  I can’t help but feel slightly disappointed as Benny passes the massive parking lot and continues on to town. Reed must notice because he leans over to whisper, “you’ll be rolling around in tinsel in no time.”

  The fried chicken is every bit as good as the restaurant reviews state. Served family style with loads of mashed potatoes, stuffing, gravy, and bread, there’s enough food to satisfy even Lennon’s endless stomach.

  “This place kind of looks like our grandma’s house,” he says, looking around at the wood paneled walls and shelves of knick-knacks.

  “I think that’s the point,” Daisy says. “I have a feeling they’re going for the homey, rather than the modern.”

  Daltrey is sitting low in his chair, hat still on his forehead; as if afraid someone might whip out a camera and start snapping shots.

  “Dude, take your hat off at the table,” Reed tells him, whipping the cap off his head. “Have a few manners.”

  “What if someone sees us?”