Page 28 of Ransom

But because he did, because I ended up in that group home, I have the life I'm living now. I have incredible brothers, a niece and nephew. Anyone would call my life fucking blessed.

And I still ache for her. Every single day.

Obsessing isn't getting me anywhere. I have to put an end to this, once and for all

‘Set her free, please’he wrote.

"I've been fucking trying. You couldn't have raised a nice, easygoing daughter?"

I slap the folder down and push to my feet. I have to end this. It's time.

Rapping my knuckles on Mav's door to announce myself, I drop into the chair in front of his desk.

"Five million. Offer her five million."

"Holy fuck," Mav breathes, knowing immediately what I'm talking about. "Are you sure? It didn't seem like she was going to go under any circumstances. She was pretty fucking clear."

"She needs to accept it. It's insane money for that place. She's got to consider it. She's been in that town for almost forty years. She has to want something more."

He winces. "She seemed pretty settled, Ran. Why can't we just let this go?"

"Because she deserves a big life. She deserves everything."

"And five million dollars will buy her that?"

"I sure as fuck hope so."

10

BLAIR

I'm elbow-deep in an engine when Matt calls out that there's mail. I grunt, not really caring. I run a business. We get mail. It's probably just another bill or junk flyer. But when he brings over a thick envelope, my stomach drops. I know exactly who it's from before I even see the return address.

I thought we were done with this shit. It's been over six months since those guys came around. I thought I finally got through to them.

I thought it was done.

Wiping my hands on a rag, I tear it open. The fancy letterhead of Brash Group stares back at me, along with a number that makes my vision blur: five million dollars. For my garage. My life's work.

Rage boils up inside me, hot and familiar. I storm into my office and slam the papers down on my desk. That motherfucker. The nerve of him. Why can't he just stay gone?

I march back out to the Chevy I was working on, determined to lose myself in the familiar rhythm of repairs. But my hands shake as I reach for a wrench. My mind keeps drifting back to that number: five million dollars. It's more money than I've everseen in my life. More than enough to set Max up for college, to pay off Maggie's medical bills, to...

No. I can't think like that. This isn't about the money. It's about Ransom Kyle thinking he can control my life again.

I try to focus on the car, but after dropping the same bolt for the third time, I know it's useless. The rage is consuming me, clouding my thoughts. I can't work like this. Can't think straight with Ransom's offer hanging over me.

"Screw it," I mutter, grabbing the paperwork from my office. "Matt, I'll be back later!"

I don't wait for a response as I storm out of the garage. I need to clear my head, need to get away from the temptation of that offer. But even as I walk, Ransom's face floats in my mind. The memory of his smile, of his promises, of the future we once dreamed of together. It doesn't matter how often I tell myself we were just kids, that it's all in my head; I can't truly believe it.

God, I hate him. I hate that he still has this power over me. That after all these years, he can still make me feel like this—angry, confused, torn. Part of me wants to march right up to him and tell him exactly where he can shove his offer. But another part...the small broken part, isn't ready to see him. Not now, maybe not ever.

I take the front steps of the house two at a time, then throw the door open,my blood boiling. Maggie's sitting at her desk in the corner of the living room, focused on her computer screen, but she looks up as I slam the door.

"Whoa, what's got you all fired up?" she asks, pushing her glasses up her nose. She's still gaunt. Still frail. But since stopping chemo, there's a little bit of color in her cheeks. There's even a fuzz of new hair growing on the top of her head. Looking at her, if you didn't know her, you'd think she's getting better.

You'd be dead fucking wrong.

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