Page 26 of All Tied Up
What? No.
I shook my head. I was not leaving him. I hadn’t seen him or spoken to him in a month. Now, he was suddenly here, playing vigilante.
“I haven’t—you’ve not—”
“Shakespeare. Go. I need to handle this.”
His tone was firm, but the way he’d said Shakespeare sent warmth coursing through me. Something I shouldn’t be feeling at this moment. I should be ashamed of being able to feel any joy while there was a death happening feet away from me.
“But—but you’ve been gone.” The fear that he’d vanish again kept my feet firmly planted. I wasn’t letting him disappear out of my life again.
He nodded his head. “Yeah.”
The man began to make gurgling sounds that snapped me out of my own problems and back to the most pressing issue.
Ransom cut his eyes toward him. “Seems I got more than hislung,” he muttered, then turned back to me, “Go,” he repeated.
If someone found us and Ransom was caught with the bloody knife, he’d be arrested. I had to let him do whatever it was he did in situations like this. The idea that he’d go to prison over his saving me was enough to make me move. I wouldn’t lose him again.
“You need to get out of here,” I told him, wanting him to come with me.
“I got this, Shakespeare. I know what to do. But you need to go.”
He wasn’t going to just leave the man here like this. I knew that. I was being selfish, even asking him to. The man began to shuffle and fall to the side.
Oh God. Was he dying? Was I about to witness my first death?
“Shakespeare, go,” he urged.
As much as leaving him was difficult, I had to believe once he had this handled, he’d come to me. We would talk. He hadn’t just been on this street for an evening stroll. He was here for me. He’d been following me. I had questions, but they could wait.
Turning, I began to walk back the way I had come from. Ransom was back in my life. He had returned.
While my body was slowly feeling the relief and joy, there was also guilt invading my happiness. Glancing back over my shoulder, I saw Ransom moving over to the man.
Was he going to get him help? Did the Mafia do that kind of thing?
It had just been one stab wound. It wasn’t like he’d shot him. He just needed a doctor … or an emergency surgery.
It was fine. Ransom knew what to do. He’d handle it, and then he’d come to me. And my world would be right again.
Twelve
Ransom
“WHAT the FUCK, Ransom?” Bane shouted as he slammed into my office without knocking.
I’d been expecting him after the text I sent him from my secret phone. And I’d also been anticipating this reaction. He was right, but he’d have done the same damn thing.
“Can we skip the drama?” I asked, leaning back in my chair and crossing my arms over my chest.
“The drama?” he asked incredulously. “You disobeyed a direct order and stabbed a man in the process. You left a trail by killing someone. That’s not fucking drama!”
“Eh, I didn’t leave a trail. I cleaned up my mess,” I replied.
Bane let out an unamused laugh. “You’ve gone insane. It’s two days until Christmas. I want to enjoy my holiday, not deal with your bullshit!”
“Could you keep your voice down?” I asked him, not wantingThan to hear any of this.
