Demanding Ransom by Megan Squires Read Free Book Online Page B

borrow?”
    “TOUCHDOWN!” Mikey screams and launches into
the air, catapulting over to us. He picks Ran up by his waist and twirls him
around a few times before depositing him back on the floor. Mikey’s incredibly
strong, because Ran is just an inch or so shorter, and probably close to the
same weight, yet he lifts him like he’s a ragdoll. “Sorry man, but did you see that?”
    “No.” Ran smoothes his ruffled shirt with his
palms. “But because you just spun me around like we were competing in Dancing
with the Stars, you owe me your vehicle for the afternoon.”
    “Fair enough.” Mikey quirks his head and pulls
his keys out of his pocket to chuck them toward Ran. “But I’m meeting Eric at
the pool hall in an hour and now have no way of getting there.”
    “Now you do.” Ran sweeps the helmet off the
bench and situates it onto Mikey’s head, paying careful attention to the scar
that snakes down the back of it. “Have fun.”
    “ No ,”
I pull the helmet off, probably a little too roughly. “Mikey doesn’t have a
death wish.”
    Snatching the helmet from my grip, Mikey
retorts, “You’re right, I don’t. But I did stare death in the face last month
and won. And I’m totally willing to kick its ass again…on the back of that
sweet bike parked in our driveway.”
    “You’re an idiot, Mikey,” I sneer, binding my
arms tightly over my chest. What is it with guys and their need to push the
limits of their mortality? “And so are you, Ran.” I throw him a cutting glare.
    “Shoot, Maggie,” Ran says. “That insult just
deducted one of your compliments. You were so close to licking my lips.”
    Mikey raises his hands up and backs away from
us, the keys to Ran’s motorcycle dangling in his palm. “I don’t even want to know what that is about,” he
asserts. “I’ll be back by 1:00.”
    “The throttle sticks a bit,” Ran instructs, and
it sounds like he’s speaking in some guy code Mikey appears to understand. “I
lubed the cable this morning, so she shouldn’t give you a hard time.”
    “I’ll try to return her in one piece.”
    I’m pretty sure my jaw’s unhinged and my
mouth’s hanging open, because when I swallow it’s so dry that it mimics the
feeling of sandpaper running up and down my throat. Scrape, scrape,
scrape—an unbelievably uncomfortable feeling. Just one of the many I seem
to experience each time I’m in Ran’s presence.
    “Ready?” He pivots my direction.
    My head bobbles unsteadily on my shoulders and
Ran must mistake that for a nod because he slinks his fingers through mine and
then we’re out the door to the garage.

 
    CHAPTER SEVEN

 
    “What do you like to drink?” Ran grabs two cups
from the counter and stands in front of the soda machine, surveying the eight
different beverage options before him. “Let me guess. Not Mountain Dew; you
probably think that looks like toxic slime. And it’s evident you could
definitely use some caffeine in your life, so I’m guessing no on the Caffeine
Free Pepsi. I bet you’re a Dr. Pepper drinker, no?”
    I make a loud buzzer noise, indicating his
fail. “Diet Coke.”
    “Diet Coke? Really?” He says it like it should
reveal something monumental about me, like he’s uncovered some hidden secret
just by discovering my soda preference. “You don’t strike me as a Diet Coke
type of girl.”
    “You think what I like to drink sheds light on
who I actually am?”
    I take our tray of food to a booth at the back
of the burger joint. A young mom pushing a stroller and grasping the hand of a
toddler just vacated the seat, and the oversized wheel of the jogger lodges
between two chairs in front of her. Ran slides the table barricading them to
the side and they squeeze past. He gives her a genuine, full smile in return
for her mouthed ‘Thank you,’ and continues toward our table.
    “I think you can learn a lot about someone by
the way they look at you when you’re trying to analyze them,” he says, slipping
into