Page 111 of Ramsay

Willow

Although I’m in no better position the following day, I head to school because at least here, I don’t have the specter of my parents' grief to add to my misery. But I stutter to a stop when I find the Sinners in all their glory waiting for me by the front steps of the school building.

I slept heavily the night before, dreams of Ramsay chasing me in my slumber.

When I woke, I half thought it had all been a dream, but apparently not because here they are. When I pause at the door and stare, Diem wraps his arm around my shoulder and tugs me through the threshold.

It doesn’t go unnoticed as multiple people stutter to a stop to watch us walk by, the other two falling in line with us.

Sabrina’s hard gaze follows me as Ramsay takes my hand, but I have no time for her because my whole body is on fire. Holy shit, but Ramsay Yates is holding my hand!

“Okay, first things first,” Ramsay says. “Willow, we need to know if you owe Hate any more favors.”

“Why?” I ask, my euphoria popping like a balloon. Get your hormonal head out of your ass, Will.

“Because,” he sighs, “we can’t be prepared if we don’t have all the facts.”

“Do you?”

Arching a brow, he says, “Yes, we owe him for the dick pic.”

And any residual good feelings disappear altogether. He’s lying. Asshat.

Averting my gaze, I hide my disappointment behind a grim smile and say, “I’m free of Hate.”

Oh, how I wish that statement was true in more ways than one.

“Good. Second, what happened to Jagger?”

“Don’t you know? He’s dead,” I mutter.

“Hm, and you don’t owe Hate for that too?”

“That was more of a favor to him. It was his decision what happened.”

“Which is?”

“Which is what?”

“The favor?”

“Why all the questions? How about you tell me what you have over Sabrina?” I demand.

“Her daddy is fucking the pool boy,” Ramsay says easily.

Wait, what? Color me confused.

“I thought that was Hailey’s dad?”

“No, you know who that is but the dick posing as him is fucking the neighbor,” he says with a smirk.

Jesus. Save me from the drama. Fucking rich dicks.

Glowering, I rub my face and say, “Why does she work for you?”

“She does what I tell her, and her world remains safe,” he says with a shrug.

Safe how?