Page 97 of Ransom

The wooden steps of the porch creak under my weight as I sink down. The night air carries the scent of Mrs. Peterson's jasmine from next door. Stars peek through gaps in the clouds, but I barely notice them.

Dad knew. All this time, he knew.

A lot later, the door opens and Maggie's footsteps shuffle across the boards. She presses a glass into my hand. The smell hits me just before I throw it back. The whiskey burns down my throat, warming my chest.

"Talk to me." Maggie lowers herself next to me, wrapping her cardigan tighter. She knows me so well. She knows that sometimes I need to sit and stew before I'm ready to talk.

She always makes me talk.

I've learned over the years that I might as well save myself her hounding and just get it out of the way.

"Dad made him leave." The words taste bitter. "He told Ransom to break up with me, to make it cruel so I wouldn't follow."

"Wait. What?"

"Because of our age difference. He was afraid I'd get in trouble." My fingers tighten around the glass. "I was nearly an adult. And it would be illegal for us to be together. To have sex."

"Oh honey." Her hand lands on my back, softly stroking. It's comforting and familiar.

"Dad drove him away himself after Ransom broke that window at the store." The memory of that day hits fresh. "He set the whole thing up."

"Jesus,” she breathes. “And he never told you." She gets up, then comes back less than a minute later with the whiskey bottle and tops me up.

“Thank you.” I take another sip. "All these years, I thought—" My voice cracks. "I was so angry at him, Mags. For leaving like that, for saying those things. And Dad knew. He watched me hurt and never said a word." For years. Years! That's the part that hurts the most.

"Your dad loved you."

"Did he? Because this feels like control, not love." The whiskey can't wash away the betrayal lodged in my throat. "Twenty-five years, Mags. We lost twenty-five years because Dad decided he knew what was best for me."

"Maybe it wasn't the worst thing." Maggie's voice stays gentle. "You two were like gasoline and matches back then."

"Don't." I shoot her a warning look.

"Remember when you skipped my birthday party because Ransom wanted to go camping?"

"That's not fair." It's true. We camped out in the back of the truck. We spent more of the night talking and did a lot of making out. But it was still innocent. And it was a great night.

But I still feel like a bit of an asshole for missing her eighteenth. Things between Ransom and I were still new, still so intense. And yeah, I chose the guy over my best friend. I’m not sure I could have made any other choice back then.

"What about nearly failing your chemistry final because you guys stayed up all night stargazing?"

"I still passed." The whiskey glass clinks as I set it down harder than necessary.

"Barely. My point is, when you were with him, nothing else existed. Not friends, not school, not?—"

"So what? We were teenagers. That's what teenagers do." Hasn’t she been trying to shove me toward Ransom? Now suddenly, she thinks it was a problem back then? I don’t understand her.

Maggie shook her head. "Not like that. You two were different. Intense. Like you were both drowning and the other person was air."

Air.Yeah, that sounds right. That’s how I felt about him back then. And tonight, when his lips touched mine, it all came rushing back.

Why is that so bad? Why is she suddenly on Dad’s side? "Are you trying to justify what Dad did?" The betrayal burns worse than the whiskey.

"I'm not. What Robert did was wrong. He should have told you the truth or allowed you the chance to fix things. But Blair—would you have gotten your engineering degree if Ransom hadstayed? Would you have taken over the garage? Become this amazing, independent woman who built her own life?"

"You don't know that I wouldn't have."

"You're right, I don't. But I watched you back then. You would have followed him anywhere."

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