Page 15 of Ransom

Janey gapes up at me, and I grin, tapping my right incisor. "Don't worry. They fixed me up. But I'm not really up for round two."

"Maybe they'll just wind down?" Abby says through a mouthful of candy. Damn woman keeps picking our pockets for treats. She's dressed as a… I don't really know. A witch with a disco ball on the top of her hat. I guess that's the point of Halloween, isn't it? To let your freak flag fly.

"Possible, or more likely Colton is?—"

John rolls Colton, who lands in the middle of a rat army. The plastic rats bounce with the impact, making them seem like they're coming alive. And Colton, still screaming, does some sort of cartwheel and gets the hell out of there, running full tilt down the sidewalk, forcing any child in his way to dart to the side.

His big yellow minion head wobbles side to side as he goes.

None of us hold it together. I don't even try. I just let the laughter roll through me, touching every nerve and fiber.

God, I love my family.

Evie, Mia's mommy, steps forward and takes her hand. "I think Daddy needs a minute. Why don't you and I knock on the door?" Mia grins up at her, tugs her to the rats, and puts one in her bucket, then heads for the front door. Evie's leaning down, obviously trying to explain to her that she can't take people's stuff, even though I know, deep in her heart, Evie wants to see what Mia would do with that thing at home.

She loves Colton, but she's not above scaring the shit out of him.

They get to the door and ring the bell, and when the owner opens the door, Mia yanks the rat out of her bucket and proceeds to wave it around as she talks to him.

"She's coming home with that rat," Abby mutters.

"It's going in his bed," John says, wrapping his arms around her. They seem like such an odd couple. Abby's always been a little bit sunshine, and John's the sky just before a storm, all dark and grumbly.

Only around her, he's not so dark.

And around him, she shines even brighter.

"We're assholes," I mutter because, yeah, that rat is ending up in his bed, one way or another.

John chuckles darkly, and when Mia bounces down the steps, swinging the rat, we all move in a pack toward the next house. I hang a little further to the back since it's not my turn for a while. Nick and Maverick fall in beside me, and I brace myself for them to ask me about Blair again.

"This place is fucking weird," Nick mutters, looking around. "There's no fireworks. No people out barbecuing."

"Fireworks?" Mav asks, looking intrigued. I am too. We could easily set off some fireworks from the roof. I'm sure there are rules and permits to get, but that kind of thing hasn't ever really been a problem. With the kind of money we have, we can pay off anyone we need to.

"Yeah. It was a little fucked up, honestly. Kids would light them and chase each other with them. My Abuela wouldn't let me play with them, which looking back, seems like the responsible choice. But everyone would hang out in their front yards and cook, so we'd dress up, and there would be candy, but mostly we just ate our way through the block and had to roll ourselves home." He laughs and shakes his head. "She'd call all the kids littleGorditos."

"That sounds pretty great."

"It was. It's all so different now. I drove through there a few months ago. The whole neighborhood has changed. When we lived there, it was the kind of place hardworking families lived. It was a community. It isn't anymore." He smiles and waves at Mia as she dances up the steps with Declan. "Bree says the town she grew up in was a lot like that. All the neighbors looked out for each other. It sounds kind of nice."

Maverick hums and glances at me. "Was it like that when you lived in that town, Badger Falls? You did live there, right? I mean, I'm just guessing since you said Blair is your foster sister, and she seems like she's pretty damn rooted there, but maybe I'm jumping?—"

"I lived there," I say, stopping his babbling. "And yeah, when I was there, it was a lot like that. Everyone in everyone else's business, neighbors taking care of each other, and lots of reasons to get together and eat."

Maverick looks a little dreamy. "That would be really nice. To know everyone."

"Maybe," I say with a snort, "but it's also a pain in the fucking ass when you're a teenager. You can't go anywhere without someone reporting back to your parents on what you did. I couldn't get away with shit."

"Really? That actually sounds kind of…nice."

On the surface, living in a place with no privacy sounds awful, but some of the guys had parents that honestly didn't give a shit where they were. And a lot of our foster parents were worse. There were good ones, yeah, but it's no coincidence that most of the guys had crappy ones and all ended up in that group home. "It was," I admit grudgingly, "it was a pretty great place."

"How long were you there?"

"Three years. From twelve to fifteen."

Mav whistles. "Fuck. That's a long time. I think nine months in the same foster home was my record."

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