fight her way out of fashion news and bridal expos.
If what Ransom said was true, even that was probably out of the question. She could never risk another byline or identify herself to ask questions at a press conference. The best she could hope for was to vanish until things blew over, then start a new and anonymous life somewhere far from here and even farther from Washington.
"I have some friends over in Lincoln," she mumbled. "Maybe if I stay with them for a while…I'll just lay low until this blows over."
"'Lay low'?" Ransom gave a bitter laugh. "Fuck, woman. What part of this are you having trouble understanding? I have seen Fulmer order multiple murders in a single day, then polish off a sandwich. I watched him inject a woman with an experimental serum and then stand there watching while she screamed and convulsed and choked to death on her own vomit without doing anything to save her. I watched my own alpha brothers pound at their cages until their hands were raw, and all he did was laugh. But in all that time, I've never seen him show any sign of fear…until today. Until you showed up."
"That can't be right," Gretchen stammered. "It doesn't make any sense."
"I've spent eight years watching Fulmer," Ransom said coldly. "At this point, I know him better than my own mother. But I've never heard him sound so desperate as when he was talking about you. He's never going to stop coming after you. Not until he's dead, or you are."
The hurricane of emotion inside Gretchen whipped into a force she couldn't fight any longer, and the next thing she knew, she was screaming. "This is ridiculous! No one is scared of me. Not the people I work with or interview or pass on the streets. I've never even had a parking ticket. I'm nobody. Why can't you understand that?"
Ransom was unmoved. "He's sent a total of six men to kill you so far. You think he'd spare that kind of manpower on someone who wasn't a threat to him? He needs every soldier he can get just to keep that scene locked down, so why would he waste so much time and effort on a nobody?"
Gretchen knew there was something to what Ransom was saying, but she still couldn't wrap her head around it. "I'm a third-string reporter out of Omaha, for God's sake. Before my editor sent me here, I spent three days at a bridal convention covering wedding trends. I'm a far cry from Woodward and Bernstein…or even my mother."
Ransom gave her a cautious look. "Who's your mother?"
"Maggie Conrad," Gretchen said. "She worked for the Chicago Tribune and the London Times, and she built a hell of a reputation. She never backed down from a story. She was tough enough to make someone like Fulmer shake in his boots."
"And you're not." Something in Ransom's tone made Gretchen regret bringing the subject up.
"Like I said—I just spent three days writing about the return of the cathedral train and the pros and cons of the groom's cake."
The hard lines around Ransom's mouth eased slightly. "I don't know what the fuck a cathedral train is, but you shouldn't sell yourself short. You could have escaped, but instead, you came back to interview an alpha with blood on his hands. That takes guts."
Gretchen tried to ignore the tiny surge of pride his words brought. "Yeah…and look where it got me."
"Following your instincts back there—that's the reason you're still alive. If you'd done the logical thing and stayed on the main road, Fulmer would have killed you by now."
Gretchen said nothing for a moment, weighing Ransom's words. She really wanted to believe them.
But since it was looking like her time was almost up, she opted for the truth. "I wasn't following my instincts," she admitted in a whisper. "I was following my mom's. Ever since she died, I've been trying to live up to her legacy, but…I don't think I have it in me. There was only one Mad Dog Conrad, and it's not me."
To Gretchen's surprise, the look Ransom gave her was laced with sympathy. "Look, Gretchen, I understand what it means to try to honor the life of someone you loved. Ryan was a better man than I'll ever be—smarter, stronger, tougher. I should have been the one who died, not him. If there was any fairness in the world…but there isn't. And you just have to accept that and do the best