Page 52 of Ransom

The sun's beating down as I cross the square, making it feel like summer already. My t-shirt is fucked, and I need to find somewhere to buy a clean one before I head back to the garage later.

Because I am going back.

Blair and I still need to talk, and now, thanks to working next to her all afternoon, I have a slight hope that she might not try to kill me.

At least not right away.

Badger Falls hasn't changed much in twenty years. Oh yeah, except for a bunch of boarded-up storefronts. Luckily, I spot a clothing store tucked between the pharmacy and the hair salon. Perfect.

As I push open the door, a little bell chimes overhead. The place is clean but cramped, with a distinct focus on plaid and work clothing. A whole rack of shirts costs less than one of my ties back home.

Everything I wear is expensive. Everything I wear serves a purpose. It's camouflage. It's armor. But here, I stick out. And while I normally don't mind that, I'm fighting an uphill battle here and could do with a bit of blending in.

"Can I help you find something?" A woman in her late twenties approaches, her eyes widening slightly as she looks me over.

"Just need a clean shirt," I say, gesturing to the grease stains. "Got a little carried away helping out at McKenna's."

Her expression softens at the mention of the garage. "Oh, you know Blair? I love her. She's been through so much lately."

I nod, not trusting myself to speak.What has Blair been through? What don't I know?Robert died, yeah, but it's been over a year. Is that what she's talking about? They were really close, so maybe, but it feels like there's more to it.

And the way everyone keeps saying it… maybe it is more.

"Well, let's get you fixed up," she says, leading me toward a rack of button-downs. "You're kind of… big." She clears her throat, cheeks pink. "But we do have a few options that should work for you. Any particular color in mind?"

"Why don't you pick? And while you're at it, any chance you have pants that would fit?"

She takes her glasses off and runs her eyes over my legs in a way that makes me feel flattered and a little violated at the same time. "You're tall, but I think I might have a few options." She hooks her arm through mine and grins up at me. "Let's go, handsome."

19

BLAIR

"You're awfully quiet," Matt says, glancing over his shoulder at me from the wash sink, the sound of running water echoing through the garage.

"Not much to say," I mutter, glaring down at the engine I've been working on for way too long. "Not like you and your buddy." My fingers tighten around the wrench I'm holding until my knuckles turn white. Ransom being here fucked up my whole morning. I couldn't concentrate, and I'm all kinds of pissed about it. I like pissed. Better than confused and sad.

"Hoo! I knew that was going to get under your skin."

I glare at him, wondering for the millionth time why I didn't fire him. I know why; he's great at his job, and I don't want to work sixteen-hour days, but sometimes he annoys the shit out of me. "Then why did you do it?"

"I didn't see you turning away free labor," he says, smirking. He turns and leans against the sink, wiping his hands on a clean shop rag and crossing his arms across his chest. "You have some pretty powerful friends. How come you never talked about him?"

"There wasn't anything to say. Before last night, I hadn't seen him in twenty-five years."

"Fuck. That's a long time. Sounds like there's a story there."

"Yeah, there is. But not one I'm interested in sharing."

He holds his hands up. "Fair enough. It just…" he trails off, shaking his head.

I'm not going to do it. I'm not going to— "It just what?"

He winces and steps closer, his boots scuffing softly against the worn linoleum floor. "It's just, aren't you tired? I didn't understand it before, but I do now. Something happened to you a long time ago, and I think he had something to do with it. And today, there's been this anger brewing in you. I could feel it across the fucking garage. And you're telling me this is old news? Doesn't seem like it's in the past to me."

I cross my arms, leaning back against the counter. The ancient refrigerator hums loudly in the background.It's been on its last legs for twenty years, but it still keeps our stash of soda and beer cold. They don't build them like they used to. That's true for cars and for appliances. "How should I be reacting?"

"I don't know, McKenna." He runs a hand through his hair, exhaling heavily. "All I know is carrying around that much anger eats at you. I can tell you that from personal experience. Maybe you need to figure out a way to forgive whatever it was he did, so you can move the fuck on."

---