Page 137 of Ramsay

Grabbing me around the waist, he pulls me against his chest and runs his nose along the pulse point in my neck. “Oh love, it was better for people to think it was Diem.”

Fuck. They’ve been shielding me this whole time from a memory filled with so many holes, it might as well have been Swiss cheese. How ironic.

Not to mention, all this time, I thought maybe I did something reprehensible because I wasn’t in my right mind from all the drugs that I did that day. Now I can’t help but think I wasn’t as wrong as I thought myself to be, and the knowledge warms a part of my heart long since cold.

“He was a bad man,” I say.

It’s not a question but Ramsay answers anyway. “Yes.”

“They’re all in it together?”

Yates. Frank. Mr. G.

Ramsay frowns, his blue eyes focused beyond my shoulder as he says, “Our fathers’ shared their disgusting proclivities, yes.”

Damn. I know I struggle with my clueless parents but each of these guys has to contend with true scum as part of their parental unit. I mean Yates picked up girls in his fancy car and did god knows what. Frank worked the business of stealing girls off the streets and presumably sold them for money. And Mr. G… hiding behind his upstanding reputation as a beloved teacher at Sterling High.

“Do you think…one of them killed my sister?” I blurt and he flinches before dropping his head.

“I don’t know,” he rasps, and I grab his cheeks, my heart clenching at the tortured sound of his indecision.

“Ramsay,” I say, the need to take away his pain burning through me. His head shoots up and the brilliant blue of his eyes flash before he looks away, denying me the privilege of his feelings.

For a moment, I stare at his chin, zeroing in on the tic in his jaw. Does he see the same lost soul when he looks at me? Perhaps what I interpreted as icy disdain from him was that of a man who doesn’t know how to connect.

I’d like to be the one who changes that, I realize with a small thrill. He’s as fucked up as they come but then again, so am I. Perhaps we can walk this twisted world together?

“What happens now?” I ask but I won’t forget this and silently vow to do whatever it takes to bring Ramsay back to the living, just as he’s done for me.

With a devilish smirk, Ramsay shrugs, pulling me back into his arms as he purrs, “We shower. Fuck…”

Although I’d be lying if I said the notion uttered in a ridiculously hot tone didn’t make my panties wet, I set it aside because he’s avoided the most important topic between us, and we both know it’s intentional.

“Ramsay? What about your dad?”

Once again, he goes stiff but this time, I wrap him up tight and rest my cheek against his chest. After a moment, he eases and I count it as a small mercy as he says, “He was arrested. He’ll be charged with murder.”

Oh. Oh shit. Murder? Crush?

“You’re diabolical,” I breathe and his mouth curves into a wicked line.

Raising his fucking brow once more, he tilts my chin. “You like diabolical.”

“I think I do,” I breathe.

“Mm, love, brace yourself because it’s about to get all diabolical up in here.”

Snorting, I lay back and say in a throaty voice, “What are you waiting for?”

His growl is answer enough and happily I lose myself to the man who lights my soul on fire with a single, scorching, blue look.

Epilogue

Willow

Five days later, I’m dozing in Ramsay’s bed when he appears with a plate loaded down with food.

“Hey,” I rasp, sitting up and flipping my hair out of my face.

---