Page 114 of Ramsay

Ramsay touches my elbow, but I wrench away. His brow darkens and he arches a brow in warning. Stretching my lips into a bitchy smile, I follow as Crush walks back the way he came.

My heart is in my throat. I simultaneously want to vomit and punch Ramsay in the nads. It only gets worse when we enter a fancy salon and an old as fuck dude stares at me from a wing chair.

Let me guess, he’s Paddy McCafferty. Just kill me now. Fuck, I don’t mean that literally. Luckily, I’ve never met the man but holy fuck, he’s the mastermind behind all kinds of bad stuff.

Diem approaches him and bows his head, his normally mischievous expression replaced by one of respectful reverence. Paddy nods and holds out his trembling hand.

It would be almost beautiful if Paddy weren’t a mafia king.

With Crush across the room and everyone else otherwise occupied, I turn to Ramsay and hiss out of the side of my mouth, “What the fuck is going on?”

Ramsay’s mouth tightens before he murmurs, “What’s going on, love? You lied.”

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

“Do you?”

“Who’s this?” The old man says, interrupting our standoff.

Crush eyes me coolly and it’s on the tip of my tongue to say Cherry because I’m in a time fucking warp. Besides, it’s better if Crush doesn’t know my name but Diem beats me to it.

“That’s Willow. She’s with me.”

With him? What does that mean?

To my relief, Paddy waves me away along with the guys and we exit into the hall. Okay, that was weird but maybe I’ll get out of this unscathed after all.

“Cherry?”

What now? With a lump in my throat, I turn and lock eyes with the last person I expected to see. “Iris?”

She looks good. Better than good. Radiant.

She tosses her brilliant red hair over her shoulder and assesses me with bright eyes before smiling. “I never thought I’d see you here. Where’s Jagger?”

“Oh…” I pause and wave my hand which does nothing to help the burn in my stomach. Of course, she’s asking about him. That’s who she remembers me as…Cherry. Drug addict. Whore.

In our world, I was nothing but property and being anywhere but especially here without Jagger would never happen.

Ramsay saves me from an awkward response when he steps up behind me. Iris stiffens, her brows rising. They share a look I don’t understand before Ramsay pulls me away down the hall and into another room.

Truthfully, I’m still dazed from the specters of my past clashing with my present but for a minute it fades blissfully away as I take in the sight before me.

A fucking bowling alley. I’m in a mansion and standing in a bowling alley.

“C’mon,” Diem says, shoving Oliver who’s actually wearing a half smile.

Now I know I’m in the twilight zone.

What commences is a cutthroat game where I orbit around the guys warily. I’m still angry about whatever is going on, but I admit, I’m charmed by their easy camaraderie.

Crush is absent, thank fuck and I’m willing to wait out the coming confrontation because fuck if I don’t need to regroup. But it’s short lived and after Diem throws the last ball, Ramsay turns to me with his blue, blue eyes.

I curl my lips into a smile, but it doesn’t reach my eyes. I don’t feel particularly strong, but I’m willing to fight if fighting is what needs done. That’s where everyone who’s ever gotten in my face has misunderstood. At my core, I’m a fighter. I suspect it’s why I’m alive. I’m too damn stubborn to go quietly into the night.

“Love, you just don’t know when to back down, do you?” Ramsay says.

“You’re the asshole who doesn’t know when to quit,” I sneer.

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