Dangerous Game|| Ransom Drysdale

6. You Can Be Damn Sure

You walk back into the room at the station, a bag of takeout for two in your hand. Ransom stayed to look through files, leaving you to choose lunch.

"Anything?" you ask, taking your seat next to him again and taking food out of the bag.

"Yeah actually, I solved it and found the identity of Jack the Ripper while I was at it."

"Do you speak anything but sarcasm?"

He glances over at you with a slight smirk as he takes the food you brought for him. "Thank you, Y/n," he hums happily.

You nod and begin to eat, looking over the piles of files Ransom has sorted through. He notices and looks at the files as well.

"There's no connection. I mean, it seems like the girl was the target of the murder. Her boyfriend was just unfortunately there and tried to defend her and himself. Just regular teenagers trying to get handsy on a lover's lane. Brown haired, brown eyed male just under 6'. Y/H/C haired female with Y/E/C eyes..." Ransom trails off as he looks at you, the vague similarity striking him.

"What?"

"Same eye and hair color as you, Y/n. Right around your height too."

"Ok, and? That describes a good amount of the population on this planet. I promise you we aren't related in some weird way. It's just a coincidence."

"Still, it's something. Especially if it is connected to your mother, maybe it's connected to you now? Worth a shot I say," he suggests with a slight shrug as he eats. As much as you'd like to deny it, he had a point.

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"So if mom was the first victim, which from everything we've seen we can assume she is, Ransom was saying that maybe we're targeted. Maybe I'm targeted," you explain, pacing slightly in the living room of your father's place.

"Look, Y/n, Ransom, I get the similarities. I do. But you're just a few cards short of a deck here. You can't just go out on such a precarious accusation. And furthermore, you don't have suspects," your father stays put in a chair and watches you pace as he tries to stay the logical detective he's known to be.

"I know, so I need a suspect. If mom was targeted maybe she unintentionally left clues."

"Maybe we do rule this out and find out it was another one of my stupid ideas, that's fine. We just want to try," Ransom snips slightly at your father, earning an exasperated look from him.

"You cannot just run on whatever theory you want. That's not how this all works. You see, when I got stuck on a case-" your father begins.

"I'll just go check the attic," you interject,"her old stuff is still there, right?"

"It is," your father nods in confirmation.

Without another word, you head upstairs and to the attic to search through boxes. Ransom bites his tongue slightly, trying to refrain from another snippy comment. He huffs lightly, trying to avoid looking at Blanc.

"You're not doing any good for her with this. She needs to move on, her mother's death was... it was horrendous. I understand her desire to know the truth, but this cannot just blindly continue. I trust you understand how dangerous this is?" your father speaks up, not looking away from Ransom who still avoids looking back at him.

Ransom just scoffs. "If she wants to try to solve this, you can be damn sure I'll support her in that. If she fails, I'll be there to support her in that too. I'm here to protect her for as long as I'm here."

"And how long is that? You're facing over a decade of jail time-"

"You think I don't know that?!" Ransom snaps, raising his voice and looking directly at your father. "Yeah, I've done some real fucked up things and yeah, I should pay for those things. But until they drag me off, you can bet your ass I'll be at Y/n's side and won't let a single thing happen to her or our-"

"Hey, I got mom's old diary," you hop down the stairs, pausing when you see Ransom looking like he's seen a ghost and your father in a stunned silence. You glance between the two before speaking up, "Everything ok?"

After a moment, Ransom clears his throat and fixes the coat he never bothered to take off, focusing on his hands. "Perfectly fine, ready to go?"

"Um, yeah, weirdo. I'll see you later, dad," you wave slightly as you follow Ransom out the door, hearing another car pull into a nearby driveway. Ransom is already halfway in the Beemer, in a rush for no apparent reason. Blanc just gives you a nod without a word. You shrug it off as nothing important. Men are confusing anyways.

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Ransom stops in the driveway of your house. You unbuckle your seat belt and open the door, noticing that Ransom still has his seat belt buckled and the car is still running. Before you can ask, he answers, "I'll be back, I forgot to get some groceries the other day. Won't take long, I promise."

"Ok, I'll let you know if I find anything in her diary. Love you."

"Love you too, sweetheart."

You close the door behind you and watch as he backs out of the driveway and glances at you before driving off in the direction you came. You head inside.

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Ransom pulls to the curb, stopping the Beemer at Blanc's. He sighs and grips the steering wheel tightly. He had never been the apologizing type with anyone but you, but he knew you'd kill him for being an ass to your father.

He heads to the front door, feeling like the brief walk up the driveway lasted eons. "Look, I'm sorry for being rude. I think we should talk about some things because I would like to show you I'm worthy of Y/n before I marry her," he mutters under his breath as he rehearses in the car. He raises his fist and knocks on the door, but hears no response. He groans, assuming Blanc is ignoring him. He knocks again, "Blanc, I want to talk, please!"

No response.

He tries the doorknob, finding it unlocked. As rude as barging in is, something in Ransom sets off alarms, urging him to continue forward. He walks in, ready to call out to Blanc again. The words catch in his throat as he spots Blanc where he last saw him. Sitting in his chair in the living room, his shirt now drenched in blood.