Page 108 of Ramsay

“What about her?”

“What if this is related?”

“Do you think it is?”

“Will you stop fucking answering everything with a question?”

He smiles, arching his fucking brow again, and I almost lose my shit.

“What were you doing with Hate on Saturday?” he asks.

“Hanging out,” I say through gritted teeth.

Ramsay tuts and Oliver snorts, inspiring a nasty grin as I mutter, “It’s none of your fucking business.”

“Cashing in a debt, perhaps?” Ramsay asks, studying me like a mad scientist again.

Refusing to answer, I raise my brow in challenge and eye him mulishly.

“You’ll tell us,” Ramsay says, and I sit back at the vehemence in his tone.

Why does he care?

Bewildered, I stare at him before asking, “Why?”

“Because love, you’ve burrowed into our group and refuse to go away. Now it’s too late. For you and us.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I grumble.

Diem appears over Ramsay’s shoulder with a cheeky grin and says, “We’re keeping you.”

“What?” I rasp, shaking my head. “You’re insane.”

My head is spinning, and I grab the table to ground myself. What’s the angle now? Because surely these assholes are looking for a new way to screw me over.

Ramsay ignores my statement with a flick of his wrist and says, “Now then, if you’re going to be a part of our group, you have to share your darkest secret.”

There’s an extended silence while I process his words before I hide my thoughts behind a confused smile. “Uh, what?”

Of course, they want information. That’s all. Fuckers.

“You can’t be a part of the group without it.”

“Why?” I’m two seconds away from punching him in the face and it takes every acting skill I have to pretend my chest isn’t burning. For half a second, I had…hope. Fucking idiot.

“Why?” he says, splaying his hands. “Because it binds us together. It would be too easy to break away otherwise.”

Oh, he’s good and fucking evil. This entire scenario is weird enough to catch me off guard. Too bad for him I’m suspicious as fuck on a good day. And today is not a good day.

“Why now? Why me?” I ask.

The corner of Ramsay’s mouth tightens before he shrugs. I can’t begin to explain his actions but the telltale frown around his mouth leads me to believe he’s not happy about it.

“Because we want you, Willow,” he says, as though it’s that simple.

Not fucking likely but I’ll play the game.

Lowering my gaze, I twist my fingers in my lap and whisper, “I don’t understand.”

---