Demanding Ransom - By Megan Squires Page 0,9

my weight, I lean up against the back of the couch at the same time Dad walks through the still-open front door, sheets of paper in one hand, and a plastic hospital bag containing Mikey’s personal belongings in the other.

“Let me give you a hand with that, Dad.” I fumble with the crutches.

He shakes his head. “Nope, Mags. I’ve got it just fine.” Pushing the door back into its frame behind him, Dad’s gaze finally sweeps across the destruction that is his house.

Any other parent would launch into a tirade of scolding, disciplining, and ultimate dismissal of the rowdy teenagers from his home, but Dad’s never been like that. He’s always quick to forgive, to listen to any excuses (no matter how fabricated they might be), and to give everyone the benefit of the doubt.

Maybe that’s what made me hate her so much—what sucked away any ounce of forgiveness I might have had deep in my heart for my mother. That she could do what she did to a man as selfless as my dad made the thought of ever forgiving her—of ever reconciling with her—unimaginable. It’s one thing to cheat on a lying jerk; it’s another to leave a family and a man that have done nothing but remain steadfastly loyal throughout years of invisible deceit. In my eyes, my dad is a saint.

“Did you guys find the soda out in the garage fridge? I stocked it fully just last night.”

Sadie stretches out a hand to my dad and takes the bag of Mikey’s things from him. “Yes, Craig. Thank you for doing that.” She bats her eyes. “Eric’s got a Shirley Temple already made with your name on it.”

“My favorite,” Dad says, flashing Sadie a wink. “Looks like I’m one of the only ones left?” A few of Mikey’s teammates cheer, and Josh gives my dad a fist bump and squeezes his shoulders as Dad slides onto the barstool. “So which one of you has the steadiest hand? I think I want to Bic it.”

The girl with the blonde curls rises up. “I’ll do it. My mom’s a hairdresser, and I wouldn’t trust any of these guys with an actual razor near your scalp.”

“Hey, come on,” Josh chuckles. “You could end up with one manly scar.”

“Not as manly as mine, Dad.” The room falls instantly silent. Mikey and Eric have returned from the bathroom break, joining the rest of us in the kitchen. No one speaks, but I can audibly hear a few guys breathing loudly over my shoulder. Mikey shifts his gaze from teammate to teammate. “Seriously?” he asks, slightly annoyed. “I’m not allowed to joke about it?”

“Mikey—” Sadie begins, pressing her palm to his arm protectively.

“No, I’m serious. Have you seen my scar? It’s pretty damn impressive.”

I roll my eyes. “Not nearly as impressive as mine, Mikey. I bet I’ve got three inches on yours.”

“Is that so?” Mikey’s long fingers coil the bar on the wheels of his chair, and he spins around quickly with notable skill. “I think we should let the tape measure be the judge of that.”

***

“Dude, she was right.” Eric snaps the metal tape back into the place. “Hers is almost two inches longer.”

“But they just patched up your leg,” Mikey teases, rocking back on two wheels so they squeal against the hardwood surface from the friction. It’s seriously impressive how much control he has over his new chair. Not surprising though; Mikey has always been incredibly strong and athletic. “They patched up my brain.”

“I doubt they had much trouble doing that, Mikey.” I throw him a mocking glare. “Because they really didn’t have much to work around in that empty shell.”

Mikey clasps his heart and feigns injury. “Low blow, Sis.”

“Seriously,” Josh mumbles around a mouthful of chips. His head is still half-shaved, half-full of hair. I wouldn’t be surprised if he keeps it like this; it sort of fits his oddball personality. “That one was below the belt, Mags.”

“Is that what you used to tourniquet your leg?” The blonde, whose name I discovered is apparently Layla, slides into Eric’s arms now that he’s seated on the leather couch across from us. They’re a cute couple, so much so it’s almost unbearable. And their entire student body obviously agrees since they were voted homecoming king and queen last month. “Did you use a belt to stop the bleeding during your accident?”

“No.” I bite down on the inside of my cheek. “I didn’t do anything. The paramedics stabilized me.” I didn’t do anything.

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