Ransom pins me with a fixed expression. “Why?”

“Why not? I’ve played your game three times now. Do I not have the right to ask?”

“Do you need an excuse to ask what you want to know?”

“Do you need to sound so condescending when you ask such a question?”

“Do we need to put you two in time-out, alone, in the dark?”

I glare at Beretta, but when Ransom simply laughs, I relax, even though I’m positive I’ve missed an inside joke.

A smirk covers my lips. “I don’t think he could hang with me that long.”

“Why, you all about girly, crybaby shit?” Beretta teases.

I look away, my eyes widening in mockery of my own damn self. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Is it not?” Ransom wonders.

I shake my head.

“So, you’re stone-cold then?” A hint of disbelief, or maybe it’s disgust, deepens his voice. “No fire, no soul?”

“Sure, you can say that.” I shrug carelessly. “Being all deep and devoted is senseless.”

“I’m not buying it.” Ransom frowns.

“It’s true. It messes with your head, and it’s all downhill from there.”

“You’ve been fucked over then.” A shadow of annoyance slips over him. “Loved and let go?”

“Hell no.” I laugh. “And I never will.”

“So you’re scared?”

My gaze slices to his, narrowing.

He gets in my face, so I hop off of the truck and stand before him. His eyes search mine and a low huff leaves him. “Yeah, you’re terrified of what would happen if you opened your pretty little eyes to more, aren’t you?”

“I’m not scared, I’m smart.”

“You think so, huh?” he scoffs. “What, mommy and daddy not love you enough?”

“Spoken like a scorned asshole.” I tip my head. “What, desperate for something you don’t have at home?”

His eyes turn to slate, hard and impenetrable.

I think I struck a nerve.

“Okay, yeah.” He nods, detached. “I’ve got mommy, daddy, fucked-up sibling issues like the next blue-collar bastard, but tell me, Jameson, what’s the point of this fucked-up world if you have no one in it?” His words drip of cold disdain, but something deeper strains beyond the surface. “Someone to lean on, to depend on, who can depend on you?”

I’m already shaking my head before he’s done speaking. “What a fairy-tale world you speak of. You’re setting yourself up for failure, thinking like that.”

“And you’re running straight to misery by not.”

“I won’t waste my life bleeding for someone else when I don’t even bleed for my damn self.”

His laugh is as cold as his eyes. “So, you cut yourself off from all that makes you human, like a true ice princess?” He slips closer, his tone lower. “How pathetic.”