Ransom by Callie Rhodes

Chapter Eight

Gretchen imagined that she had enough adrenaline surging through her system to keep her awake for days, maybe a whole week, but it didn't take long for her body to wear out. Last night's fitful rest combined with the hum of the jeep’s powerful engine lulled her into a deep sleep that left her feeling leaden and disoriented when she woke, unsure if minutes or hours had passed.

In fact, she might well have kept on sleeping if the rhythm hadn't changed. Instead of the fast and bumpy ride she'd grown accustomed to with Ransom's pedal-to-the-metal style of driving, she was now rocking gently, her legs dangling in the air.

What the—

Her eyes flew open in surprise. She wasn't in the car at all but was being carried—carried!—in near-total darkness. Gretchen immediately panicked and started to struggle until she felt a familiar rumbling growl.

Ransom. He was carrying her.

Gretchen didn't know why the realization instantly relaxed her, but her muscles loosened at the sound of his purr, and her back melted against his arm. Maybe it was the warmth of his skin through his shirt or the comforting beat of his heart, slow and steady against her side, but her fear drained away.

It took a few more sleep-addled moments for the vivid images of the carnage in the field to replace the pleasant fuzziness of slumber. The horrific memory made her rethink being so quick to find comfort in the arms of an alpha.

She squinted into the moonless night and discovered that Ransom was carrying her through dense forest, an occasional star winking through a break in the leafy canopy above them.

The last thing she remembered was the sky darkening to indigo as the sun dipped down below the horizon. The air had been scented with grass and earth as the jeep rolled along through gently rolling hills and wildflower-dotted plains. Now they were ascending a fairly steep incline, suggesting they were far away from the open grasslands.

"What's happening?" she asked, her voice a sleep-roughened croak.

"Hush, woman," Ransom murmured without breaking stride. "Go back to sleep."

That wasn't about to happen—Gretchen's heart was racing faster than a fighter jet. She twisted her body so that she was more or less upright and earned a branch snapping against her face for her effort. "What happened to the jeep?"

"Nothing," he said. "I parked under the cover of some brush a few miles back."

A couple of miles…Gretchen realized that Ransom must have been carrying her for quite some time before she woke up. How was that possible? It was almost as if the motion of his body as he walked had a tranquilizing effect on her.

"Where are we?"

"North."

It looked like Ransom hadn't gotten any more talkative while she slept. Gretchen dug deep to find her reserves of patience, a considerable challenge given the danger they were in. "North like near the Elkhorn River, or North like the South Dakota border?"

He grunted. "North as in north. I doubt this place is on any map."

Ransom's words came back to Gretchen: I'll know a safe place when I see it.

Maybe—if her luck had finally turned—this was it. But there was no reason she couldn't decide that for herself while standing on her own two feet. "You can put me down."

"That's not a good idea. It's steep, and there's no marked trail. If I put you down, you could sprain an ankle or trip over a rock."

"So let me get this straight." Unsurprisingly, the last of Gretchen's patience had run out. "You've brought us deep into the woods, and we don't know where we're going exactly other than up."

"Yeah…and?"

"I thought you said you were taking us somewhere safe."

Ransom surprised her by laughing. "What were you expecting? Did you think I'd be driving up to some fancy hotel and handing over the keys to the valet?"

Gretchen felt her face flame with embarrassment. She didn't need five-star accommodations. But yeah, she'd sort of expected that wherever they were headed would have four walls and a roof. "What I expected was that we would be getting away from danger, not trading one kind for another."

"You think you're in danger?"

He was kidding, right?

"We're in the woods in the middle of the night," she stated the obvious. "You said yourself you could trip and sprain an ankle. And then there's the bears and the wolves and the snakes and—"

This time Ransom's laugh came from the belly, a miniature earthquake against her body. "First, I said you could trip and sprain an ankle, not me. I'm an alpha, woman. I'm not going to fall."

"But—"

"As for bears and other creatures, they're smart enough not to cross paths with an alpha."

Was that true? And even if it was, how could he possibly know? Gretchen wasn't tactless enough to bring it up, but he had been living in a hole in the ground for the last eight years. It wasn't as if he'd spent the last decade roaming the wilderness.

"How can you be so sure?" she settled on asking.

"Because I'm a predator. Hell, out here, I'm the predator. Even now, I can sense the animals becoming aware of my presence, breathing in my scent. Trust me, they know better than to cross my path. Only a beta would be that stupid."

Predator. The word sent an uncomfortable shiver through Gretchen—uncomfortable because, through her very real fear, it stirred something else entirely. Something dark and sensual. Something that beckoned her to press herself even more closely against him.

Sure, she knew what he was capable of. She'd seen the aftermath of Ransom's violence. He'd killed half a dozen soldiers without hesitation, but not without reason. He might have craved vengeance, but so far, she hadn't seen him kill for sport or pleasure. The lives he'd taken were in defense—both of his life and hers.

Gretchen was beginning to see that Ransom had a personal code that, while simple, was vastly different from what she had come to expect from those in power. He turned to violence only when threatened and left others to their business.

She couldn't imagine him hurting any living thing just for fun or because he couldn't control his emotions. Food?—yes. Self-defense?—without a second thought.

This went against everything she'd been taught about alphas. The story went that they raped and abused every woman unlucky enough to cross their path, but Ransom hadn't shown so much as a hint of aggression toward her, despite having plenty of opportunities.

It suddenly struck Gretchen as odd that the media painted a picture of alphas as savage, indiscriminate killers and rapists, while the current administration seemed bent on reversing generations of progress in the human rights arena. Her own newspaper had recently run a series of profiles glorifying local business leaders—the same men accused of unfair hiring practices, sexual harassment, and indiscriminate firing of women.

But just because Ransom wasn't turning out to be a threat didn't mean that she wasn't in any danger. After all, he might be an apex predator that the animals knew to steer clear of, but she most certainly was not.

"Relax," Ransom said as if reading her mind. "Why are you so afraid of the wilderness?"

The answer was in the question. "Because it's the wild. I know it's been a while since you've been around people, but the world hasn't shifted on its axis. We betas still retain our healthy fear of nature."

"Haven't you ever been camping?" He sounded confused.

"God, no." Gretchen's mother had camped as a child, but by the time Gretchen was in high school, the practice had fallen so far out of fashion that the only camping goods store was fifty miles away. The Boy Scouts had become little more than a recruitment arm of the military, and Girl Scouts had gone back to their homemaking roots. Betas were meant to conquer nature, not submit to its whims.

"Hiking?"

"I run," Gretchen said, though her regular three-mile route along the streets of Omaha seemed laughably tame now. It occurred to her that Ransom had missed a lot of the changes the country had gone through during the last two presidents' terms. “Let's just say the few betas who are into that kind of thing are being…persuaded to take up new hobbies."

Ransom shook his head in disgust. "I don't understand why you insist on living your lives in a constant state of fear. There's nothing out here that's going to hurt you."

"First, there's nothing out here that's going to hurt you," she said, throwing his words back in his face. "Bears and wolves and coyotes might be able to pick up on the scent of your badassery, but I have a feeling that to them, I smell like a midnight snack."

To her disappointment, he didn't contradict her. "Then you should probably stay close to me while we're here."

A shiver whipped through Gretchen at his words, and not because of worry this time. There was something all too tempting about his words. Just like there was far too much comfort in the way he held her. A soothing sense of tranquility that went beyond the hypnotizing rhythm of his stride. Even his body heat was seeping into her…and transforming into a sensation that was much too close to arousal for comfort.

Yes—Gretchen could admit it, even if it made absolutely no sense. She was turned on by this alpha, this one-man army who was the only reason she wasn't currently lying in the dirt full of bullet holes. It was probably some sort of misplaced emotional response. Still, she tucked her head down before Ransom could notice the blush creeping up her cheeks. Given his freakishly strong eyesight, she wasn't taking any chances.

For the next few minutes, Ransom moved forward in silence, making his way over rocky terrain. As her eyes slowly adjusted to the dark, Gretchen had to admit he was right—she probably would have injured herself if she tried to walk this path on her own. She could barely see more than a few feet in front of them, and her reflexes weren't half as sharp.

Eventually, they reached a clearing in the trees, revealing a sheer rock face that reflected the pale moonlight. In the center was a vertical crevice, like a jagged tear in the side of the mountain. A sinking feeling clenched Gretchen's stomach.

"Please tell me that's not your idea of a safe place to spend the night."

Ransom gripped her tighter as he sure-footedly walked the narrow path. "Don't tell me you’re afraid of caves too."

"Cave?" Gretchen echoed, horrified. If there was one thing more terrifying than tromping around the wilderness at night, Ransom had nailed it. "Are you kidding me?"

"I saw it from down below when we were on the valley floor. It may not be the Ritz, but it'll do."

Was that supposed to be humor? Gretchen couldn't tell—and she couldn't think of a single argument likely to sway him.

The opening was only about four feet wide, and it narrowed as it went up to a space of only a few inches at Ransom's height. Inside was pitch black. The air was definitely cooler than outside, with a strong mossy scent tinged with something mineral and unfamiliar.

"Oh God, is this a bear den?" she whispered, her imagination spinning in all sorts of terrifying directions.

"No. There are no bears here."

"But what about bats? There must be bats."

"I don't see any." He made a show of drawing in a deep breath. "Don't smell any either. There's nothing here to bother you while you sleep."

"Ha!" As if she'd be able to do anything resembling rest in this chamber of horrors.

Ransom carried her to the center of the cave before finally setting her down on her feet. Nevertheless, she stayed close to his side. What she really wanted to do was wrap her arms around his neck and jump right back into his arms, but her pride wouldn't allow it. Instead, she stood trembling in the inky blackness, afraid to move a muscle.

"Can you really see anything in here?" she asked.

"I can see enough. It goes about ten or twelve feet back. Dirt floor, a few boulders…oh, and the writhing nest of vipers, of course."

"Oh, God—"

"Just kidding." He laughed, his voice filled with humor. At least one of them was having a good time. "There's nothing in here but you, me, and a few spiders."

A cold shiver spread through her body. Dear God, why did he have to bring up the spiders?

"Can you see them? Or are you just guessing?"

"See them, hear them, smell them," he answered.

Suddenly, Gretchen was grateful for her 'inferior' beta senses. She freaked out when she caught sight of a spider in the corner of a room. She couldn't imagine the constant anxiety she'd feel if she was able to smell them.

"Isn't that overwhelming?"

He paused before answering. "It's…new. There wasn't a lot of variety down in the Basement. The same sights and sounds came into my cell every day, but here…" He trailed off before exhaling deeply. "Here I hear everything—nocturnal animals foraging for food, the current in the river, the sound of tree trunks straining in the wind. Hell, I can make out every leaf on every tree and breathe in the scent of an owl nesting a mile away. But somehow, it's not too much. My mind is able to process it."

"Are all of your senses so…extreme?"

"Not sure what you're going for there," Ransom said, his voice taking on a deep, velvety quality that got her lady parts singing again. "But yes, since my transition, I experience almost everything more…intensely."

Was he flirting with her? Flustered, Gretchen stepped back from the reassuring heat of his body. Maybe it was his closeness that was sending her head into a spin. "Oh. Well, that's good. I guess. Since at least one of us can see and hear and, um…"

"That's not all I can do," he growled. Yes—he was definitely being deliberately suggestive. "I can smell more, taste more, feel more.”

As Gretchen kept backing away, she could sense him moving with her until she ran into the cold, damp wall of the cave, banging her elbow. "Ow."

"Careless," Ransom murmured, but he didn't reach for her the way he had before.

Was he waiting for her to touch him? To close the distance between them? Or merely respecting her boundaries?

"Could you make us a fire?" she squeaked, trying to distract herself.

"Not a good idea. Not until morning, anyway. There's a direct line of vision from the valley and beyond if anyone's keeping an eye out."

"But—then how are we going to keep all the creepy crawlies away? I mean, yeah, I get that you're a p-predator and all, but spiders and insects don't care about that." Gretchen shivered, trying not to imagine tiny, hairy legs scurrying over her body in the darkness.

"I told you—no living thing is coming is going to mess with me. Not a one."

His words shouldn't sound so hot, not when they were discussing a man-against-nature scenario she wanted no part of. Ransom had basically just admitted to being more of a threat than any other creature she could imagine.

"That's great for you," she said, her mouth suddenly dry. "But what about me? If the spiders know to stay away from you, then that means twice as many will be coming for me."

"Then I guess you'd better sleep close to me," Ransom said in a voice like gravel. "Real close."

For a moment, Gretchen let herself remember the feeling of his arms around her as he carried her through the woods, his steady heartbeat against her cheek. But it was unthinkable—there was no way she could spend the night wrapped in an alpha's arms.

"No thanks," she yelped. She had a hard enough time getting her colleagues to take her seriously. If they ever found out about her intimate sleeping arrangements with an alpha, she could kiss her whole career goodbye.

"Your choice," he said mildly, moving away from her. She could hear him settling down onto the floor of the cave near the back, sighing contentedly despite the fact that he was lying on hard, cold rock. "You might want to stay away from the walls, though. That's where the spider nests would be."

"You're just saying that to scare me.”

"Am I?" he yawned. Even in the dark, she could tell that he was grinning. "I guess there's only one way to find out."

A cold breeze snuck into the cave at that moment, intensifying the goosebumps that had already started to spread across the exposed skin of her arms and legs.

"Screw you, Ransom," Gretchen hissed as she dropped to her knees and crawled toward his voice as fast as she could, praying that no spiders would pick that moment to drop from the ceiling. As she burrowed up against Ransom's chest and tucked his arm over her side, she could feel his body vibrating with silent laughter.