Demanding Ransom (16 page)

Ran: Well this is a first, Maggie. YOU
requesting to see ME.

Me: Can we go for a walk? No bikes, no
vehicles.

Ran: Dang it, Maggie. You’re not even going to
play hard to get? This is no fun.

Me: I never promised to be fun. Just
complicated and occasionally not nice.

Ran:
Occasionally? If that was occasionally, I’d hate to see what frequently looks
like.

Me: When are you free?

Ran: I work at 6. I can be at your house by 3.

Me: Looking forward to it.

Ran:
See, you’re making it hard to determine if these are compliments or not by the
way you word things.

Me: I thought we were done with all that
counting compliment stuff.

Ran: I’m still working up to my kiss.

Me: You’re going to have to work pretty hard.

Ran: Not a problem, I have an incredible work
ethic.

Me: See you at 3.

Ran: See you then.

Ran shows up on my doorstep at three o’clock
sharp and greets me with a smile that unbuckles my knees. I’m glad I’m bracing
myself against the doorframe, because my body wants to slide to the floor. I
pull myself together.

“Ready for our walk?” I say, slipping into the
sleeve of my jacket as I latch the door behind me.

“Been counting down the minutes.” Ran’s hands
are shoved into his pockets as we pace the set of concrete steps toward the
sidewalk. There’s a chill in the air that burns my ears and I shrug my
shoulders to push my scarf up higher to cover them. “Do you have a destination
in mind?”

“Not really,” I admit. I ball my fists together
and blow into them to bring some amount of warmth to my already numb fingers.
Ran slips his hand out of his pocket and wraps it around my right one. When I
look over at him, the look on his face feels like he’s asking permission, so I
grab on tighter to let him know it’s okay. That
this
is okay, because for the moment, I think it is.

“Is it fine with you if we head somewhere then?
It’s only about a mile from here.”

I nod and squeeze his hand. His fingers are
long, but not delicate or slender. They hold an appropriate amount of roughness
in texture that you’d expect from a guy, but the way his fingers slink with
mine feels tender and warm. And the way he rubs the pad of his thumb over the
soft space on the back of my hand is unlike anything I’ve ever felt. Whenever
Brian and I held hands it always felt possessive. Holding Ran’s hand is just
the opposite, like he’s offering something to me rather than taking from me. Like
he’s giving me a small piece of himself.

“How’s Mikey feeling today? Think he’ll be able
to give himself the shot on his own?” The sidewalks are empty in our
neighborhood, with the exception of a jogger and his dog that skirt around us
by sidestepping into the street. A few leftover leaves from fall dance along
the pavement, but everything else is still. No cars bustling down the lane, no
children playing in front yards.

“I think he can handle it.” I knot my fingers
tighter with Ran’s. “What do you think his odds are, Ran?”

“Mikey’s odds?” Though we’re walking forward,
Ran turns to face me. “Geez, I have no idea, Maggie. I honestly don’t know much
about cancer, even less about his specific type. The doctors seem pretty
confident, yeah?”

I nod and bite into my lip which is beginning
to chap from the wind. “Yeah, they seem confident.”

“Then you have to trust they know what they’re
doing.” Ran’s finger lifts to my face and he tucks a wayward hair behind my
ear. I imagine he would do the same sort of thing before leaning in to kiss me
and I shiver, and I’m so thankful for the freezing temperatures that make doing
so seem appropriate. Why am I thinking about kissing Ran? Just last night I
wanted to punch that annoyingly beautiful mouth of his.

“You and I both know I have a hard time
trusting people.”

He nods. “I know. But sometimes you just have
to believe that others have more information and experience than you do.”

We walk three more blocks together. Ran tells
me about his first ambulance ride when he was just beginning training as a
paramedic and about some of the strangest calls he’s ever been on and injuries
he’s seen. We talk about high school and I find out that Ran was a star track
athlete, and he humors me with a laugh when I challenge him to a race down the
block.

“You think I’m kidding?” I pull on his fingers,
picking up my speed in my step, skipping backward on the pavement. “I’m
serious. I’ll race you to that stop sign.” I thrust my finger toward a very
small, red octagonal blob in the distance that you really can only see if you
squint your eyes tightly.

“You’re not kidding?” Ran’s blue eyes widen and
a subtle smile grows on his lips.

I swallow. “Three, two…”

“You’re really not kidding.”

“One!”

I throw his hand free and lunge forward,
pushing off the concrete with force that propels me forward. It takes Ran a
couple beats to shake off his confusion before he bolts too, but I manage to
keep my gained distance by pumping my arms to gradually increase my speed. The
cold air stings as it enters my lungs and prickles my cheeks. The water
collecting in my eyes makes it hard to see, but I don’t give up my pace and
instead ignore the burn in my legs, especially the thigh that so often
threatens to give out on me. I feel the pull of the scar and clench my jaw,
grit through the pain, and when I’m about twenty feet from the sign, I don’t
let up on my stride, but push everything I have into that last stretch.

I hear Ran’s labored breathing immediately
behind me and sense he’s closing the gap, so when I reach the sign just moments
before he does, I know he won’t be able to slow in time to avoid running into
me completely. His feet make loud clapping noises as I hear him trying to pull
back on his speed, and at the very last second, when I know he’s just moments
away from slamming into me, I flip around to face him.

He crashes into me.

I anticipated the hit, so I hadn’t planted my
feet and instead absorb the impact by being pushed several feet backward
against him. Ran grabs me at the waist, and once we’re steadied, tucks me into
him, like a huge bear hug. Our chests heave against one another, trying to
collect the air we’d restricted earlier, and I feel my heart in my ears, my
fingers, my toes. My breath comes out in thick fogs of mist and so does Ran’s,
mixing around us. His nose is cherry red and his cheeks are unnaturally pink.

“What…was…that…all…about?” he gets out between
shallow breaths.

I shake my head playfully. “I felt like running
from you,” I say in one quick breath, and then try to get back on track filling
and emptying my lungs in a reasonably slower manner.

“And you haven’t been doing that this whole
time?” Now that we’re steadied, there’s really no reason Ran still needs to
hold on to me, but he’s not letting go. He’s holding me tighter. “Haven’t you
always been trying to get away?”

“Yeah,” I agree. “But I’ve finally decided to
let you catch up with me.”

Ran’s eyebrows draw down faintly. “How’s your
leg?”

“It’s fine,” I lie, as I feel all the heat in
my body centered around that six-inch strip of skin.

“You sure?” Ran tucks his head down to pull my
eyes up to him. “You okay to keep walking? Or am I going to have to carry you?”

“You don’t need to carry me,” I say, biting on
my lips. They’re even more chapped than before, the sting of the wind still
tearing at them.

“Here.” Ran dips his hand into his jacket
pocket and pulls out a tube of chapstick.

I take it from him and pop the cap off. When I
run it over my lips, I can’t help but notice the slight tightening in his brow
as he watches me coat my mouth. “Thank you.”

“Yeah,” he says, still not blinking. He traces
the chapstick over his own lips and I’ve never felt jealous of an inanimate
object in my life up to this point, but the envy I have over that stupid
chapstick is unreal. I don’t think he does it on purpose, but when he slides
his full lips over one another slowly to spread the chapstick evenly on their
surface, I just about lose it. My head spins and my mouth tingles and I have to
pin back the sigh that wants to slip out from me.

“Okay,” I stammer nervously, trying to regain
my self-control. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.” Ran grips onto
my hand again. “Just one more block. I have someone I want you to meet.”

CHAPTER
FIFTEEN

“I’m glad you’re back,” he says, shifting his
weight in his wheelchair. His frame is so slight, his wrinkled skin hung so
loosely over his bones, that he looks like he hasn’t eaten in months. But
judging from the smell and consistency of the puréed contents on the plate
resting on a table next to him, I can easily see how that might be the case. “I
hope they’re not paying you much, because you aren’t doing a very good job,
boy.”

Ran laughs and leans forward, his elbows
propped on his knees and his hands clasped in front of him. I share the same
small sofa but I’m leaning further back into it than he is, trying to take it
all in.

“Dorothy’s set keeps blinking out on her, too.”
The elderly man points a craggily finger toward the hall. “I told her you’d be
by to look at it, but not to hold her breath because you don’t do very good
work.”

“I’ll be sure to stop in and check it out for
Miss Dorothy. How have they been treating you here, Tom? How are the ladies?”

“Cranky as hell,” Tom says. Not the answer I
was expecting to hear from an 85-year-old man, and I try to stifle a laugh. Ran
angles his head back toward me and smiles widely. “They’re old, senile, and
none of them have their original teeth.”

“Well then, it sounds like it should be a match
made in heaven.” Ran reaches out and gently thumps Tom on the knee. “You’re not
looking so great yourself, old man.”

“Caroline would give you a different opinion,”
Tom defends, lifting a shaky spoon to his thin lips. He slurps his
lunch—if you can call it that—into his mouth and the repulsive
sound of it makes my stomach roll. “My sweetie loves this old bag of bones.”
The green mush that doesn’t make it in trickles down Tom’s chin and Ran leans
over to sweep it away with the cloth on Tom’s lap.

“Well, tell her to get in here and take better
care of you. I’ve seen babies make less mess during mealtime,” Ran teases.

Tom lifts his head my direction. “Is this
your
sweetie, Patrick?”

Ran swivels toward me, his chin tucked over his
shoulder. “Tom, this is Maggie.”

Tom shifts his weight again, and I can’t help
but hold in a tense breath, expecting to hear the crack and pop of his bones
crumbling apart. It honestly wouldn’t surprise me at all. It’s hard to believe
a body can age so much and still function, still hold itself together.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing with this
underachiever?” Tom delivers me an endearing smile and a coy eyebrow lift. “You
can do better than this cable guy.”

“I kinda like him,” I smile, and when Ran’s
eyes flash my direction, I deepen the grin.

Tom shrugs. “Well, maybe you can teach him a
thing or two about getting his work done, lazy boy. No one knows the meaning of
work these days.”

Ran’s still looking at me, like my last
statement requires several moments for him to process.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Tom gives me an approving nod. “Alright you
two. You gotta get on outta here. Caroline is coming soon and I can’t have too
many visitors before they start limiting it.”

“You’re just too popular, Tom,” Ran says,
pushing off the sofa. He reaches a hand back to pull me up as well. “I’ll see
you next week.”

I stand to my feet and take hold of Tom’s
extended hand, shaking it so carefully, feeling as though it might break
between my fingers, when I notice Ran walking over to a low table at the base
of the window. He picks something up and shakes it three times and it sounds
like a saltshaker. “You need to make sure you feed them every day, Tom.” When
he steps back, I see a clear bowl with two golden fish swimming around in it.
“I haven’t had to replace any yet, so keep up the good work.”

Tom rolls his eyes and looks at me, his cold,
scaly grip still on my hand. “Strangest cable man around giving all the people
here gold fish. I say he should focus on doing his job and less on fish, if you
ask me.” Tom winks and his eye is entirely swallowed up in the creases and
folds of his worn face.

I smile, pull my hand from his, and join Ran in
the doorway.