Ransom by Callie Rhodes

Chapter Nine

During the first couple of years of his captivity, Ransom had spent a lot of time thinking about women.

Days in the Basement followed a familiar pattern—long hours of unrelenting boredom punctuated by sudden and brief moments of horrific pain and torture. Stripped naked in an empty cell, his only entertainment was his memory, and Ransom used it well, replaying his handful of sexual experiences over and over in his mind, fantasizing about all the things he'd never had a chance to do.

Over time, however, the idea of rescue or fighting his way out faded away. He came to accept that he was likely to die in that wretched place deep under the earth. The day that realization hit home—the day that Ryan died—was the day Ransom stopped thinking about sex.

At first, it was a deliberate choice—when thoughts of a pretty girl kept him awake, he counted backward from a thousand instead, trying to avoid the pain of knowing he'd never experience another kiss or caress again.

Eventually, though, his mind retrained itself, and he no longer had to create distractions. The same tactic worked with other desires, too—the yearning for freedom, for comfort, for dignity. Ransom fought against the urge to care about any of those things. Though his body became used to the rhythms of the lab, anticipating meals, invasive procedures, and the daily cold blast of water that constituted a shower, the rest of him shut down.

But all of that changed the instant he breathed in the sweet ginger scent of a beta woman lingering near the gully.

Gretchen wasn't the first woman Roman had encountered in the last eight years. There had been plenty of them in the lab and in his cell. Fulmer had thrown plenty of dormant omegas his way in order to be certain that his ‘impotency experiments’ had worked.

She wasn't even the first in the last couple of days. That honor went to Victoria Hyde, a beta scientist who'd been brought to the lab against her will and had secretly engineered the alphas' escape.

Victoria was on the run with one of Ransom's brothers now. She turned out to be a beautiful omega, and Ransom was truly happy for his alpha brother Jax, who'd somehow won her heart while in captivity. If there was any justice in the world, the two of them were safe somewhere far away.

Ransom figured his lukewarm reaction to Victoria was either just another side effect of his survival mentality or a result of Fulmer's cruel experimentation. He accepted that, from now on, his cock wouldn't stir for any woman.

But then Gretchen came along.

She hadn't been with him long, but he could already feel a strange connection forming between them. Not to mention a long-forgotten sensation deep in his loins.

It had been wrong to trick her into clinging to him for safety, but Ransom wasn't sorry. He figured he had earned a few hours of holding a girl in his arms, especially since she'd immediately fallen into a deep sleep. His fantasies couldn't be considered inappropriate if she never found out about them…right?

Besides, it wasn't as if Ransom planned to act on any of the fantasies racing through his head. The Forester brothers had been raised right, and Ransom had vowed never to sully his brother's memory by bringing shame onto the family.

Honor. Duty. Respect. These were the values that had followed all the Forester men into the military. Unfortunately, Ransom now knew that not every soldier held to those guiding principles so tightly. He might have spent nearly a decade among betas whose own values were twisted and evil—but that didn't change what was right.

It didn't matter that the men he'd killed wore the uniform of the army in which he'd once planned to enlist. He'd barely been a man when he was taken, but since then, he'd learned that true honor had nothing to do with flags or medals.

What was strange was that Ransom could sense Gretchen's own honor and purpose. Not just because she seemed determined to carry the truth to the public. Her character was laced into her scent, but it was also somehow evident to him in her voice, her expressions, the way she moved, the things she didn't say. Ransom couldn't explain it—but even though he had known her less than twenty-four hours, he knew Gretchen Conrad down to her very bones.

Ransom was glad that she'd fallen asleep—and not just so his fantasies could run wild without being detected. She needed the rest. He could feel the pure mental and physical exhaustion emanating from her body.

And that wasn't all he could feel.

Somehow, Ransom was able to feel every part of her. Not just the surface of her skin or the slight fluctuations in her temperature, but all of her. He'd been alert to the slowing of her pulse, the steadying of her breath. He felt her heartbeat—not the sensory vibrations of it, but the actual beat. He felt it inside himself, on a level that wasn't physical or emotional or even logical—a level that simply was.

It was the same way that he knew that she wanted him.

Though Ransom knew she would never admit it out loud, he could feel it. The truth was there, beyond the faintest trace of her slick. Again, Ransom couldn't say how he knew. He simply did.

This connection between them was tangible. It went beyond attraction, beyond the adolescent pawing of his early sexual encounters and his most extravagant fantasies.

Gretchen had awakened something dormant inside him. Something he'd thought long dead. But like a phoenix, it was rising again from the hungry fire in his blood.

Fulmer may have done his worst, but it looked like he hadn't extinguished his virility after all.

'Isn't that overwhelming?" The memory of Gretchen's question came back to him.

While it was true that Ransom didn't lie, he hadn't been completely honest in his answer either. Yes, his mind could process all this new stimulation, but not as easily as he let on.

For eight years, the only human connection Ransom had experienced had been Fulmer's flunkies stabbing him with needles and delivering electric shocks for punishment. A few times, he'd been tossed a dormant omega, only to have her torn away again as soon as his touch proved harmless. He'd been separated from every other alpha, living in silence, trapped in a long, narrow holding corridor where isolation was a way of life.

All of that had changed, literally overnight.

After his escape, Ransom had spent his first hours in the open entirely focused on waiting and watching for Fulmer. Until the bastard arrived, he'd barely noticed his surroundings at all.

But when the sun rose the next morning, it seemed to ignite his senses like a lit match to a fuse. The landscape that had seemed flat and gray exploded into emerald green prairie grass, brilliant blue sky, and yellow and white wildflowers. Smells tumbled in his nose, dozens of them, from the rich soil of the gully bottom to the wild chives growing along the bank to the stench of diesel fuel from the police vehicles. He could hear their conversations, but also the tread of animals' feet in the brush and the settling of the charred ruins of the building, and the buzz of insects flitting on the surface of a pond miles away.

And there were new senses, ones he'd never known while imprisoned—like seeing in the dark. Ransom had played down the experience to Gretchen, making it sound routine, but nothing could be further from the truth.

In the lab and the housing corridor, the overhead fluorescent lights never dimmed. The only way to know day from night was by the coming and going of the beta staff.

Tonight, though, Ransom had watched the sun set through the windshield of the Jeep. As he'd driven into the foothills, he'd been amazed by everything he could still see as darkness blanketed the earth. Though there was no moon, he'd spotted this heavily wooded area surrounding the river from miles away. Once he got out of the jeep, he'd been startled to hear the scurrying of hundreds of creatures as they fled.

He hadn't thought twice before picking Gretchen up. The moment she was in his arms, the rest of his senses came to life.

She was baffling—fearful but never cowering, courageous but not cocky, determined but not selfish. For some reason, even though she occasionally infuriated the hell out of him, Ransom couldn't seem to get enough of her.

Or maybe it was just the fact that she treated him like a person. God knew it had been a long time since anyone had done that. It was clear that in Gretchen's eyes he was an individual worthy of attention, not a subject to be studied or a menace to be feared.

Still, she was afraid of him. Not all the time, but he'd detected its sharp scent occasionally, like when he'd killed her attackers.

Ransom couldn't blame her, and it was probably just as well. Fear would serve as a check to the growing attraction crackling between them. Because while Ransom would never force himself on any woman, he wasn't sure what he'd do if she made the first move.

He knew better than to expect a woman—any woman—to act on an attraction that was deemed unnatural by beta society. He'd seen the way Fulmer's ‘subjects’—mostly women no one would miss, taken against their will from the streets—reacted in horror and revulsion to the caged alphas.

(Until Fulmer changed their natures. Then they willingly mated and died in agony when Fulmer ripped them from their alphas' arms.)

But he could lie here all night long imagining being with Gretchen in all the ways he longed for, and it wouldn't do a bit of good. She might see him as an individual now, but the beta world wouldn't.

He knew that if Gretchen was discovered to be having a relationship with her alpha subject, she would pay a steep price. If she was lucky, Gretchen would merely lose her job, her reputation, her friends, and her family. If she wasn't, she could be interrogated, locked up, tortured. Ransom ought to know.

Besides, someone as gorgeous and capable as Gretchen had to have dreams of marriage and family and a beautiful home. Ransom could picture her with some other guy, some beta, doting on her, providing for her, keeping a roof over her head. There would be a big yard full of kids thriving in the nurturing love of their mother.

But what Ransom could not picture was how any beta could ever give Gretchen the kind of life she deserved. One with a true bond, one that lasted beyond this life into the next. A passion that never faded, a devotion that never weakened.

The only creature capable of delivering that kind of satisfaction was an alpha. And not just any alpha—him.

Hewas the man who could make Gretchen happy and fulfill her yearning. Deep down, he knew she felt it too.

There was a reason Ransom hadn't felt this way about Jax's woman or any other female he'd encountered. It was a truth his alpha nature could not deny: he and Gretchen were meant for each other.

But Fulmer had stolen this from Ransom too.

He couldn't give Gretchen what she wanted. An alpha could only successfully mate with an omega. Even if they stayed together, Ransom would never be able to give her a family. They would always be on the run, always be hunted.

And Gretchen deserved a hell of a lot more than that. Ransom had managed to drive lustful thoughts from his head once, and he could do it again.

Tomorrow.

He'd start first thing in the morning.

But until then, he'd breathe in his fill of her.

* * *

Gretchen woke with a start, her heart pounding. Something was wrong. She was certain of it even if she couldn't say way.

Sure enough, she opened her eyes to discover that she was alone in the cave, bright morning sunshine lighting up every surface of the interior.

Gretchen flung off the blanket covering her only to realize that it was actually Ransom's enormous T-shirt. Where had he gone? He wouldn't have taken the trouble to cover her if he was just going to ditch her there…would he? Was he that desperate to be rid of her?

Calm down, Gretchen ordered herself. If Ransom wanted her gone, he'd had plenty of opportunities. He could have left her at the side of the road or in the car. Hell, he could have simply left her to fend for herself, surrounded by dead soldiers.

She was about to call his name when she remembered what he said last night about needing to be careful. In the light of day, it seemed less likely that Fulmer's men had pursued them this far, but then again, they seemed to have plenty of high-tech gear and a hell of a lot of motivation. She had a feeling no one said no to Fulmer, not if they didn't want to end up like the corpses in the field.

Gretchen ventured out of the cave to the rocky platform, where she had a splendid view of the valley. She saw no sign of Ransom anywhere, not even footprints in the soft earth beyond—but she did see a clear path down to the river's edge.

She deliberated for a moment before deciding to hike down. The morning air was chilly, so she pulled Ransom's T-shirt over her head for an extra layer, even though it hung down to her calves, and the faint scent of him rose up to tease at her senses.

Gretchen wondered what Ransom would think if he returned and found both her and his shirt missing. Still, she couldn't very well wait all day for him to return, especially since she didn't possess his bear-propellant properties.

She set out with care and was congratulating herself on her hiking skills when her foot skidded on a patch of pebbles. She fell on her ass, sliding a few yards down the mountain before crashing into a flowering bush.

"Well, thank God no one was around to see that," she muttered to herself before standing up and dusting herself off. She stumbled two more times before the ground leveled out, leaving her with a patchwork of scrapes and minor bruises.

Last night she'd been lulled by Ransom's ease with the outdoors, but now that she was on her own again, it was obvious that the wilderness was no place for betas. Even if she wasn't attacked by wild animals and managed not to break her neck, she had no idea how to get back to the road.

She paused by the bank of the river, contemplating which way to turn—upstream or back to the jeep—when she heard the sound of splashing coming from just around a bend in the river.

Her heart leapt. Ransom. He hadn't left her after all.

She ran two steps before caution got the better of her. What if that wasn't Ransom around the bend? What if it was a wild animal? A big one?

Gretchen froze at the thought. Unfortunately, there was only one way to find out.

This time when Gretchen moved toward the sound, she did so slowly, lightly walking on the muddy bank in order to make as little sound as possible. When she got to the curve, she ducked behind a boulder and slowly gathered up the courage to peek around the corner.

What she saw blew her away.

The narrow river widened into a large pool framed on its banks by willows and tall swaying grasses. Bright sunshine sparkled on the rippling surface. Just beneath the shallow water at the edge, she could spy schools of tiny fish darting this way and that. Close to shore, a dragonfly's wings cast rainbows in the clear morning light.

The beauty of the setting was impossible to deny. Along the far edge of the pool, multiple streams came together to create a stunning, wide waterfall—maybe the most beautiful one Gretchen had ever seen.

And standing at the base, dripping wet and up to his thighs in a natural pool, was Ransom, naked as the day he was born.

Gretchen swallowed a gasp, covering her mouth with her hands as she watched him shake the water from his hair, his gilded muscled rippling in the sun. But the moment he started to turn around, she quickly bolted back to her hiding spot.

For a few seconds, Gretchen stood completely still, too afraid to move an inch. If he spotted her now, there would be no way she could convince him she wasn't spying on him.

And she wasn't…was she?

What was she thinking? She needed to get out of here before she got caught.

Just to be certain the coast was clear, she snuck another look around the boulder. Nice try, a little voice chided inside her head, so Gretchen quit pretending that she wasn't ogling him.

Was it her fault he was just so damn ogle-able, better even than Mr. February in the local fire station's fundraiser calendar? She already knew that Ransom was huge and strong, but under his clothes had been hidden a body worthy of a sculptor, with a broad, defined chest and abs like a washboard and biceps bigger than her waist. He made every other man she'd seen naked seem like a boy, a weakling…a beta.

As she watched, Ransom plunged into the water and swam lazily across the pool and back, then flipped onto his back and floated, the sun warming his face. Her eyes were drawn to his cock, which even at rest, even after being submerged in freezing water, was mouthwateringly enormous.

Then he dove again as gracefully as a heron. Gretchen waited for him to pop up a few yards away…and waited…and waited until she started to panic. Had he gotten entangled in the weeds at the bottom of the pool? Hit his head on a rock?

And if he had, what the hell was she supposed to do about it? It wasn't like she could jump in and save him. Gretchen knew how to swim, but even if she could find him, there was no way she could drag someone Ransom's size to the edge.

Come up, come up, come up. The prayer repeated over and over in her mind. But as seconds turned into a full minute, she started to panic. Goddamn it, he was in trouble and needed her help.

Gretchen skirted the pond, crashing through the cattails in her panic when suddenly something swung out from an overhanging tree bough in front of her. Ransom dropped lightly to his feet, dripping wet and grinning.

"Looking for someone?"

Gretchen had no idea how the alpha had managed to get to shore and circle back through the forest without her noticing, but she did her best to pretend he hadn't just about given her a heart attack.

"Oh hey, Ransom," she said in a bored tone. "Fancy running into you. I didn't know you were out here."

His grin only widened. "No? Must have been someone else I heard sneaking around. But since you're here, why don't you join me for a bath? Come on in—the water's fine."