RANSOM Read online

  Faith S Lynn

  Copyright © 2014 by Tiffany A. Hilley

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the author of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Editing by Drew Elliot

  Cover by K23 Designs

  Formatting by Max Effect

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Epilogue

  Playlist

  Sneak Peek

  Also by Faith

  About the Author

  6 Months Ago

  Lynkin

  Mr. Carl Donovan.

  The man that took me under his wing after my first year of college. I was his intern, until I got my Bachelor’s Degree in Business Management. After that, I became a full-time, paid employee. Carl was the man that taught me everything that I know about business in the real world, as opposed to a classroom. He was my ticket up the corporate ladder in the South.

  Growing up, I didn’t “have a pot to piss in,” as the old saying goes. I graduated high school with a scholarship for college. What that scholarship didn’t cover, I paid for myself. They always tell you that if something sounds too good to be true, then it probably is. Turns out, that’s right.

  So here I am, living in this nasty-as-hell hotel room that I pay for weekly with what little money I have left. I have been shunned from the business world, but I refuse to suffer and struggle my way through the rest of my life. Carl Donovan took everything I worked so hard to gain. I plan on repaying the favor.

  Present Time

  Sage

  “Amanda, where are you going?” I ask as I try to keep up with her long strides. It’s really hard considering I am wearing four inch heels while trying to navigate these damned cobblestone roads here in Savannah. It’s still fairly early for all the partiers out, and River Street is crawling with them. She doesn’t bother answering me, just keeps moving through the crowd until she turns down an alley. She stops at the bottom of a brick staircase that climbs the side of one of the buildings. The iron railing on the side is twisted, and doesn’t look like it would be much help if you started falling.

  “Now do you want to tell me what you are doing?” I ask, again.

  I watch as her lips thin into a smile that screams wicked thoughts. I look to the top of the stairs and the red door that needs a new paint job, when the sign above the door catches my eye.

  “No, you have got to be kidding me. There is no way in hell I am going in there.” A chill runs down my spine just thinking about it. Somewhere down the alley, I hear a cat hiss. Fuck this shit. I turn to take a step back down the stairs to leave when Amanda stops me.

  You know, for someone who doesn’t believe in this stuff, you sure are acting a lot like a pussy over it,” she sneers. Ugh, she royally pisses me off sometimes. Still, she has been my best friend for ten years, and is the only other person in the world that it doesn’t annoy me to be around for more than a few hours.

  “I don’t believe in it, but that doesn’t mean I want to chance taking some freaky ass ghost or something home to haunt me forever. Nope,” I say shaking my head dramatically.

  She pokes one of her neon pink nails at my face and says, “Look here, Sage. You owe me one. I went with you on that stupid double date so you could make your shithead fiancé happy. I had to put up with that guy’s incessant babbling about how he was God’s gift to women, when really, he was just disgusting. That goodnight kiss he laid on me was enough for you to owe me forever!” She finally draws in a breath.

  “Ugh. Fine! I swear to God, Manda, if I end up cursed or something, I will beat the shit out of you.” She laughs in response as I storm past her and push through the door. A bell above the door sounds off with a sinister ding, and a chill runs down my spine.

  It’s dark except for the illumination of a few candles around the room. The shelf beside me is lined with old jars and leather bound books that look as though, if you were to touch them, they would turn to dust. Manda walks up beside me examining some of the items. One of her hands rises to skim over a tiny jewel, and I smack it down before she can.

  “What the hell?” she asks.

  “Are you completely insane? That crap could be hexed or whatever!” I say.

  We both jump when a cackle like laugh comes from behind us. With Amanda’s hand in mine, we turn to see a tiny old lady sitting in a chair in the middle of the room. I’m pretty sure she wasn’t there when we walked in.

  “Those are just some trinkets I keep around. I am no fool, the items that hold a hex are kept in the back,” she assures us. Her voice is scratchy as if she has smoked one too many cigarettes in her lifetime. Her silver hair is so long that the ends are touching her hands folded on her lap.

  “Come and sit.” She extends her hand and points a finger to a small wicker couch across from her. A small table sits between it and her. Amanda tugs on my hand signaling that she intends to go through with this. We take a seat and I find my gaze going back to the old lady, whom I can only guess to be Roth, the name that was on the sign. She is so small. I bet she barely reaches five feet tall.

  “What would you like to know, young lady?” she questions towards Amanda.

  “I want to know how my life turns out. You know, the basics,” Amanda explains to her.

  The old woman scoots all the way to the front of her chair and puts both of her hands upright on the table. “Give me your palm, Amanda.”

  Amanda’s and my heads jerk towards one another. She looks just as shocked as I do. I lean in and whisper, “She had to have heard me say it on the way in.” My eyes shift to the old woman to see her thin lips turn up on the sides. Again, a shiver races through my body. I have always heard two superstitions for cold chills. We take our superstitions very seriously here in the south, which is not comforting considering that I am sitting in a witch’s parlor.

  Slowly, Amanda takes her hands and puts them on the table. Roth reaches over, pulls them closer to her and leans over them. Her thumbs move over Manda’s palms, stretching and poking. She raises her head with an arched brow.

  “My dear, your life is perfectly boring, to be honest. It turns out the exact way you want it. The man you
are seeing now you will one day marry, and he will give you two beautiful children. The game that you two are playing now will come back tenfold in your futures. He will be miserable and cheat, because a zebra never changes its stripes, and you will be miserable but will stay with him for the status and money. The end.” Roth doesn’t even bat an eye as she tells Amanda of her supposed future.

  “That’s a bit harsh. Don’t you think?” Amanda asks. Her face registers shock, but at the same time there is a sadness there, too.

  “I am simply telling you what you already know to be true.” Roth pats Amanda’s hands before she turns to me. “Now what about you…Sage?”

  Crap. Did she hear Amanda say my name, too? “I…uh…I came for moral support. I don’t want to know anything. Thank you, though.” I stand and grab at my still frozen friend. “Come on, Amanda. You got what you wanted, let’s go!”

  “Oh but Sage, I really think you should hear how your life is about to completely change,” Roth says.

  “No. No, I don’t,” I reply.

  “Ok, then, but know this: Keep an open mind over the next few months of your life. Remember that you have had a very good life, but what you think makes you happy, the things you think you can’t live without, are not what you really need.” She takes a breath and continues, “He will open your eyes.”

  “Sure,” I tell her, but it comes out shaky. Amanda stands and places a 100 dollar bill on the table and we walk out. We don’t say a word to each other until we are back on River Street.

  “I’m just going to head on home. I’ll see you Sunday at the fundraiser. ‘Kay?” Amanda says with a sniffle.

  “Yeah, I’ll see you then.” I tell her before we turn and walk in separate directions. I take an alley head back up to Bay Street. I have lived here my entire life, but will never get over Savannah’s beauty. Tonight I can’t seem to enjoy it, though. Roth’s words keep popping into my head. They don’t make any sense. My life has always been the same. My father is a partner in the biggest hospitality business in the Deep South and my mother is always high on pills because, well, she can be. My only real friend is Amanda, and that “shithead” fiancé she hates, is Richard.

  We have been with each other since my sophomore and his senior year of high school. He is really handsome, in that whole prep school kind of way. Smooth features, dusty blonde hair and green eyes. He is really fit too, because he was a swimmer in high school and college. The most confusing thing that Roth said to me was the part about how he would open my eyes. She didn’t say a name. Could she have been talking about Richard?

  A drunken woman stumbles from around the corner ahead and walks in my direction. She tries to smooth her kinky hair down with her filthy hands but only succeeds in making it look worse. Her clothes make her appear to be straight from some trailer park. Her top is a floral t-shirt with the sleeves cut off, leaving a gaping hole under her arms that shows off her leopard print bra, and her shorts could very well be men’s. As she walks past me, she loses footing and rams into my side, sending me fumbling with her a few steps before I catch my balance.

  “Why don’t you watch where the hell you’re going?” I shout at her as I shove her off of me to the ground.

  She struggles to get back to her feet and when she finally does, she runs the back of her hands across her eyes and keeps her head tucked down. “I’m s…sorry.”

  “You’re apology is worthless. What would be useful is for you to go back to the hole you crawled from,” I bite out. She shrinks into herself more before she bolts down the street. Some people should really learn where they do and do not belong.

  I am about four blocks from my house when I get the feeling of being watched. My mom has always told me that because Savannah is so old, there are all kinds of things lurking in the night. I stop walking and look around at the dark street. What light the street lamps put off isn’t much but I use it to my advantage. There is a couple across the road leaned on a car making out and a man further up the sidewalk walking his dog in the other direction. I take a calming breath and tell myself it’s just my imagination running wild from the night’s events.

  I continue walking when I am yanked backwards. I scream as I fall for what feels like forever. Pain shoots across the side of my head and down my neck. I blink a few times, but everything is a blur. A tall figure walks into my line of vision and bends down. I try to push him away, try to kick at him. It doesn’t work. My limbs are like limp noodles.

  Darkness is taking over. I do my best to stay conscious, but lose the battle. The last thing I remember is strong arms picking me up, and the scent of whiskey and honey.

  Lynkin

  Shit, shit, shit! She wasn’t supposed to get hurt. But there she lies in the bed with a blood trail down the side of her face and neck. I walk into the bathroom and grab a rag off the shelf. I turn on the water and wait for the rusty liquid to run clear. As I run the rag under the stream, my hands shake uncontrollably. I did it, I have Sage Donovan.

  I wring out the rag and walk over to the bed. Sitting down beside her, I turn her head to get some of the blood off. I push her auburn hair out of the way to see the damage that falling onto the curb did to her head. I wipe some of the dried blood clean, and reveal a small cut, but nothing too serious. She stirs as I swipe the cold cloth across it again, blinking her eyes open.

  She doesn’t say anything, only takes in a deep breath and sighs with contentment. As her eyes close again, I realize she must still be completely out of it. Once I’m satisfied that the wound is good and clean, I walk over to the desk and pour myself a drink. I down it with one gulp, pour myself another, and walk over to sit in a chair to watch some TV.

  Another drink and half an episode of ‘The Dukes of Hazard’ later, movement from the bed brings me back to reality.

  “Holy shit.” She pushes herself up with one hand, the other holds her head. “What the hell did we do last night, Manda?”

  “Whoever Manda is, isn’t here. It’s just you and me, Beauty,” I explain.

  She jerks her head towards me. When her eyes find mine, they lock there. The greys of her eyes are almost dancing in the dark of the room, and even if I wanted to, I couldn’t look away. She pulls herself to the other side of the bed and stands. “Who are you?”

  I get to my feet, too. I place my empty glass on the table and take a step in her direction, just in case she gets the idea to run out the door. “All you need to know is that I won’t harm you. I will let you go once your father complies with my wishes.”

  “Oh my God. You kidnapped me?” she screams. When I don’t reply back to her, she takes off running towards the door. Before she can reach it, I grab her by the waist. “Let go of me!” Her legs go in the air, kicking in all directions. One actually gets me pretty good in my shin, and I let out a string of cuss words. I turn her so that her back is to me and wrangle her arms down. I’ll give this to her, she sure doesn’t give up easily. I walk her into a wall and pull her hands around her back. Using one of my hands, I hold them there as the other supports my weight on the wall.

  She continues to struggle until we are both panting. With each breath I take my chest connects to her back and I can’t deny that her petite frame feels so damn good against me. After a few moments, I lean in next to her ear and ask, “Are you done?”

  “You do realize that I am a grown ass woman right?” she states.

  Oh boy, have I noticed. The pictures that her father has on his desk do her no justice in real life. This woman is like fucking sin wrapped in a bow. “Let’s just say I am holding you for ransom.”

  “That doesn’t make it any better, you dick. Look, how much do you want? I will get it for you and save all this trouble,” she tries to bargain with me.

  “You can’t give me what I’m looking to get. Only your father can do that. I appreciate the offer though,” I explain, releasing her. Then, I pick up my glass and go refill it. I grab some pain medicine and toss it on the bed in front of her with a bottle of water. She
just looks at it like I had tossed a grenade at her. “It’s for your head, Beauty.”

  “My name is Sage,” she sneers, then walks back towards the bed. I move in front of the door, on alert for anything. She reaches and grabs the bottle of pills, pours some into her hand, and drops the bottle back on the bed. Then she walks to the dresser and grabs my bottle of whiskey.

  “You sure you can handle that?” I ask her with a smirk. She glances over at me with her lips pursed before she twists the top off the whiskey, tosses the medicine in her mouth, and takes one big gulp. She does her best to hide the face she makes as she swallows it down, and I can’t help but laugh my ass off at her when she has to cover her mouth because she is coughing so hard. “Didn’t think so, Beauty. You are to prim and proper for a real drink.”

  “Quit calling me that. You’ve already freaking kidnapped me, all you’re doing is adding to your creeper status. And I am not prim and fucking proper. It burns,” she tries to explain to me while letting out a few more coughs.

  “Whatever you say,” I reply and walk back over to my very uncomfortable chair. I just get really into what is happening on the TV again when I hear the princess huffing and puffing. I look over to find her pulling the covers back on the bed with her sock on her hand as a glove. “What the fuck are you doing?”

  I guess I scare her because she jumps before she turns to me. “You don’t know what kind of things are on these beds. With a hotel like this it could have lice or even bed bugs.”

  I look back at the TV and call her a fucking princess under my breath.

  “What did you just say?” she asks.

  “Nothing, I was talking to myself,” I say.

  I pick the remote up and start switching through the channels and shake my head at her. Out of the corner of my eye I see her going back to pulling the covers off the bed. When she lets out a shriek, I slam the remote on the table and storm over to her. I pull the covers from her and toss them to the foot of the bed.