Rescue (Ransom Book 5) Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  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

  Also By Rachel Schurig

  Rescue

  A Ransom Novel

  Rachel Schurig

  Copyright © 2016 Rachel Schurig

  All rights reserved.

  Ebook Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  To find out more about her books, visit Rachel at rachelschurig.com

  Join the mailing list for updates and exclusive content!

  Visit her author page on Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/RachelSchurigAuthor)

  Follow her on Twitter (https://twitter.com/rems330)

  For all the Ransom readers who were as excited to read Lennon’s story as I was to tell it.

  Thank you!

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Thank you to Laura Koons at Red Adept Editing for all of your help.

  Madeline Freeman, thank you for your fantastic advice, mad formatting skills, and willingness to talk me down from the cliff, every time. I’m so excited to watch you take over the world this year!

  Cover Designed by Najla Qamber Designs

  Photo by Lindee Robinson Photography

  Models: Elena Irene Papanastasopoulos & Marcus Filip

  Chapter One

  Lennon

  It’s sunny and warm in our backyard, the kind of day my mom likes to call a Pure California Day. I’m not exactly sure what that means, but she usually says it before sending me and my brothers out to play. “Go have fun,” she says, shooing us out the door. “Go and enjoy this Pure California Day.” But I’m not enjoying it. Not today.

  “Lennon, stop crying.”

  I rub my hand across my eyes. “I’m not crying.”

  My brother Cash makes a face, looking up to Reed for agreement. “He’s totally crying, Reed. He’s always crying.”

  “You’re a liar, Cash.”

  “And you’re a big baby, Lennon.”

  Even though I know I’m not supposed to hit my brothers, I just can’t help it. Cash is mean to me all the time. He thinks he’s so cool, always trying to get Reed, our oldest brother, to laugh. “Shut up, Cash!” I push him as hard as I can, smiling when he stumbles. He’s a lot bigger than me, and it makes me feel strong, knocking him off his feet a little.

  “Don’t you push me!” he yells, pushing me right back. His face is red now, and I laugh. He’s embarrassed because I almost made him fall in front of Reed.

  “Then stop being so mean!” I shout back.

  “Both of you stop,” Reed says, putting his hand on my shoulder. “Mom said we didn’t have to practice our instruments all morning, and you’re wasting it fighting. We’re supposed to be finding Daltrey.”

  That’s what started our fight. We were playing hide-and-seek in the backyard, and Reed kept letting Daltrey hide, even though it was my turn. They’re always letting Daltrey take my turn in all the games we play. Just because he’s littlest. It isn’t fair.

  “It’s not fair,” I mutter, squeezing my hands into fists. I wish I could slam Cash in the face with my fist, that would show him. But I know I won’t do it, not when Mom is home. Shoving is one thing, but actually punching my brother would wind up with me in trouble. Even if he deserves it. “It’s not fair,” I say again.

  Reed sighs, sounding a lot like our dad, and bends over so his face is closer to mine. My oldest brother is a lot taller than me, even though he’s only nine. Mom always calls him her little beanpole, ruffling his hair and making him smile in a way that doesn’t look at all like his usual cool-kid face. Reed is always trying to be a cool kid. It’s annoying. I miss the way it used to be, back when Daltrey was still too little to play with us and Reed didn’t try to act like a grown-up all the time.

  “Listen, Len,” Reed says, looking right at me. I feel a little stupid for crying before—he can probably see that my eyes are red, no matter what I said to Cash about being a liar. “Sometimes being a big brother means that life isn’t fair. When you have little brothers, sometimes you have to let them have their way.”

  “So I don’t ever get to hide?” I ask, hating the way my voice sounds all shaky. Cash is probably going to make fun of me again.

  Reed laughs. “You’ll get to hide next, okay? I promise.”

  I nod, rubbing my face again. Reed is pretty good at making me feel better. Most of the time.

  “What a baby,” Cash mutters, and I feel a big rush of anger. It reminds me of the waves we see at the beach—big and fast and coming right at me no matter what.

  “You’re a jerk, Cash!” I yell as loud as I can, trying to get around Reed to shove Cash again. This time I’m going to do more than make him stumble. I’m going to knock him right down into the dirt and—

  “Hey!” Reed sounds mad now. “You’re going to wake up Mom!” He casts a worried look toward the house, and my anger goes right out of me, replaced by a feeling I don’t like very much, right in the pit of my stomach. It feels like worry.

  “It’s stupid that she still needs naps,” Cash mutters, looking up at our house. “Daltrey doesn’t even take naps anymore, and he’s a baby.”

  “I am not a baby!” We all turn around to see our littlest brother marching toward us from the trees behind the house. Of course he was hiding in the trees. It’s the only place he can ever think of. They should have let me hide. At least I have an imagination.

  “Sorry, kid,” Cash says. “’Course you’re not a baby.”

  Daltrey grins, reaching up to return Cash’s high five. I’m not sure why, but watching them makes me feel mad all over again. Cash never says sorry to me. And he never gives me high fives, either.

  “What’s going on?” Daltrey asks, puffing up his chest so that he looks a little bit taller. He always does that when Reed and Cash are around. It looks stupid. “Why didn’t you come to find me? I waited forever.”

  “Lennon was throwing a little fit,” Cash says.

  “I was not throwing a fit!”

  “What did I say about waking up Mom?” Reed asks, shoving my arm. He’s getting mad, I can tell. He always acts like he’s too old to fight with us unless he gets really mad. Then he shoves even harder than Cash.

  “Why’s Mom asleep, anyway?” Daltrey asks, gazing over at the house. He doesn’t look worried about it, and I wonder if there’s something wrong with me. None of my brothers seem at all scared about her sleeping during the day. Why does it give me such a funny feeling in my tummy?

  “I don’t know, idiot,” Reed says. Yup, he’s getting mad all right. “All I know is that she’ll be mad if we wake her up.”

  “So, are we playing or not?” Cash says. “Daltrey, go find your hiding spot, we’ll count again.”

  “That’s not fair!” I cry. “Reed said it would
be my turn next!”

  “Daltrey didn’t finish his turn,” Reed says.

  “Only because he was too dumb to sit and wait for us.”

  “Hey!” Daltrey pushes me. “I’m not dumb. You’re dumb! A big dumb baby!”

  “He’s crying again!” Cash says, throwing his hands up in the air.

  I know that Reed said we needed to be quiet, but I just can’t help it. “I am not crying!” I scream as loud as I can.

  “What’s going on?”

  We all turn around, the icky feeling in my stomach growing really big and scary. There’s my mom, standing on the little back porch, looking out at us. She’s wearing a pretty yellow dress, and I know exactly how soft it will feel against my cheek if I lean against her leg, how it will smell like baby powder and something else sweet.

  “Reed?” she asks, and I can see that my big brother is nervous.

  “The kids are just being stupid,” he says, as if he’s some grown-up and not a stupid nine-year-old.

  “Lennon called me a baby!” Daltrey adds.

  “And he pushed me!” Cash says.

  My brothers are the biggest jerks in the world. Now I’m going to be the one to get in trouble. I swallow as my mom steps off the porch, walking across the grass in her bare feet to get to us. She comes straight to me, bending down to look at my face. I rub my eyes quick, hoping she won’t see that I’m crying.

  “You know you’re not supposed to shove your brothers,” she says, but her voice is soft. She doesn’t sound mad.

  “They were being mean,” I say, feeling like a stupid little kid.

  “We were not,” Cash cries. “Why does he always have to be such a baby?”

  “That’s enough,” Mom says, standing. Cash immediately closes his mouth. She looks around at us. “My boys,” she says, shaking her head. “My wild, naughty boys.” But she doesn’t say naughty like it’s a bad thing. She’s smiling at us, like we make her happy. “You need to be kind to each other,” she says, her voice a little less happy. “I don’t like the name calling and shoving. You know that.”

  “Sorry,” we all chorus, even Reed. No one likes to make our mom sad.

  “All right, go on and play. Be nice,” she adds, looking right at Cash and then Daltrey.

  “Yes, ma’am,” they say before running off toward the woods, Reed behind them. I know they want to get out of her sight before she decides we should be punished after all. I don’t follow them.

  “What’s wrong, Lennon?” she asks.

  I shrug.

  “Then why don’t you go play?”

  I shrug again. “Just don’t feel like playing.”

  She watches me for a long moment. “It’s hard, isn’t it?” she finally asks, ruffling my hair. “Being in the middle.”

  I don’t really know what she means, but she smiles at me and I feel a lot better anyway. “Having older brothers and a younger brother,” she explains. She always seems to know how to explain things.

  “They called me a baby,” I say, leaning into her leg. Yup, her dress smells just the way I thought it would, and it feels soft against my cheek. “And Cash said I was crying and—”

  “There’s nothing wrong with crying, Lennon.” Suddenly she sits down in the grass, pulling me right up into her lap. I know I’m too big for this—I am six, after all, and Cash and Reed never sit in her lap. But they aren’t around to tease me, and it feels so nice, sitting with Mom like this.

  “You’re a sensitive little guy,” she says, kissing the top of my head. “That’s a good thing.”

  “What’s sensitive mean?”

  She thinks for a minute. “It means you have a lot of feelings.”

  I scrunch up my face. “That sounds like being a baby.”

  She laughs. I love how her laugh sounds, all tinkling, like the glass music box on her dresser, the one I’m not supposed to touch. “You’re not a baby, Lennon. You’re strong, just like your brothers.” She sighs, pulling me closer. “But sometimes things are a little harder for you.”

  “Because I have a lot of feelings?”

  “Because you’re very smart.” Her voice doesn’t sound as happy anymore, and that icky feeling is back in my tummy. “And because you can see when things aren’t fair. And you can see when things are sad or when something makes a person feel bad. Other people ignore those things.”

  I cuddle into her arms, feeling a little scared. I don’t like how her voice sounds. She squeezes me tight, and I can smell something else on her dress. Smoke maybe?

  “How about you and I go inside and make some cookies?” she asks suddenly, and I sit up straight, forgetting about the smoke smell. I turn in her arms to see her face. She’s smiling.

  “Just us?”

  “Just us.”

  “Yeah!” I jump up from her lap, making her laugh as I grab her hand and pull her up so that she’s standing. “Really?”

  “Sure.” She ruffles my hair again, and I’m smiling so big my ears hurt. “There’s no one else I would rather spend the afternoon with.”

  We walk to the house holding hands, Mom swinging my arm and making me laugh. I decide I don’t care so much about my brothers being mean. Cash could call me a baby all he wanted, and Reed could be unfair, and Daltrey could be a spoiled brat. It didn’t matter. Because there was no one else my mom would rather spend the afternoon with than me.

  She said so herself.

  Chapter Two

  Lennon

  Seventeen Years Later

  There’s a familiar battle raging in my head. It’s an old refrain, one I know as well as any of our songs. I’ve been singing these words to myself for as long as I can remember. It goes like this: do the thing I’m supposed to do, or do the thing I want to do?

  Supposed to do usually wins out, if I’m honest. Too many people will be let down if I give in. When I do what I want to do, instead of what I need to do, a lot of people end up really unhappy. Or scared.

  Just like this summer.

  I close my eyes and let my forehead fall against the painted cinder block wall. The cement is cool against my skin, a welcome relief from the oppressive heat outside. It doesn’t matter how much we travel, or how much time we spend in LA. I’ll never get used to ninety-degree weather at the end of October.

  Just walk into the room, I tell myself. It’s easy. Open the door and go in there. They’re waiting for you.

  And they are. All five of them. My brothers. My friend Levi. My dad. All waiting on me.

  They’re probably pretty used to it by now.

  A text alert sounds on the phone in my pocket, and I know without looking that it’s Levi. He’ll be concerned by now. I’m only ten minutes late, but for Levi it’s been ten minutes of worry. Longer, probably. I bet he’s been stressing since he texted me this morning to ask if I wanted to ride in together for the meeting. Telling him no had, I’m sure, set off a morning’s worth of anxiety. Levi seemed to operate better when he knew exactly where I was and what I was doing at all times. He’s always been that way.

  For my brothers, worry is a relatively new experience. There was a time when Reed, Cash, and Daltrey wouldn’t have even noticed me showing up ten minutes late for a meeting. Hell, one of us was almost always late. Usually Cash.

  But that was before. These days the Ransome boys are on time for everything. On time and waiting. Waiting for me to show up so they can watch me out of the corner of their eye for the duration of whatever we’re doing. Band practice. Interviews. Photo shoots. Meetings. I can never get away from those corner-of-the-eye glances.

  It’s kind of a mind fuck, going from being the guy in the background nobody ever really notices to being the guy everyone in the room has their eye on.

  And I really fucking hate it.

  Do the thing I’m supposed to do, or do the thing I want to do? Walk into that room and pretend I don’t notice while they all shoot me worried glances or go get in my car and get the hell out of here? I’m not even sure where I would go, honestly.
But it wouldn’t be here.

  “Just walk into the room, Lennon.” This time I say the words out loud, hoping the sound of my own voice will give me some motivation to follow through. The meeting won’t be long, and then we’ll be in rehearsal. And while I know I still won’t be able to escape all the looks they shoot my way, at least I’ll be behind my bass. I’ve always felt safer behind my bass.

  “Talking to yourself is a bad sign,” a soft voice says, close to my ear. I don’t need to lift my head to know who it is, but I do anyway, meeting Daisy Harris’s steady gaze. One corner of her mouth tilts up almost into a smile. “Do I need to call Dr. Jacobs?”

  I release a breath. Somehow Daisy’s eyes, inquisitive and knowing, don’t make my skin crawl. Maybe it’s because she’s the only person who dares to make jokes about me being crazy.

  Maybe it’s because she’s the only person who understands.

  “Depends,” I tell her. “Does Dr. Jacobs have some previously unmentioned superpower that makes time spent in the company of my brothers pass more quickly?”

  Daisy scrunches up her face in thought. “Hmm. I’m not sure. Somehow it never came up in our therapy sessions.” She flashes a quick grin. “So. Whatcha doing out here talking to the wall?”

  “Avoiding going in there.”

  She nods. “I can see how the wall might offer better conversation than Cash.”

  If there’s anything that can make me feel better, hearing other people ripping on my big brother is usually it. And since Daisy, Daltrey’s girlfriend, has known us her entire life, she’s usually pretty good at throwing out the insults at the Ransome boys. I shoot her a smile. “What are you doing out here?”

  “Looking for you. Your brothers sent me.”

  At least she’s honest about it. Better than the fake-ass nonchalance the rest of them try to force when they’re checking up on me. That doesn’t keep the edge out of my voice, however. “I’m ten minutes late. Hardly necessary to call in reinforcements.”