Page 17 of Ramsay

Although a shower sounds divine, I have no idea what’s coming next and move to the window once more, staring down at the lake absently. The blue water reflects the sky above emphasizing a fancy boat bobbing above it.

Ramsay’s pale blue eyes flash before me as I stare at the largesse, and inexplicably my chest aches because he’s got everything, and it might as well be nothing. He’s as empty as the void behind Oliver’s eyes.

“I guess money can’t buy happiness,” I murmur.

“What’s that?” Ramsay asks behind me and I swing around with a furrowed brow. Where did Oliver go?

Studying him carefully, I note his gaze, burning with an undefinable emotion, before I say, “Money can’t bring happiness.”

“How do you mean?” He cocks his head to the side, and I shift uncomfortably.

Just because I’ve yearned to be seen by him, doesn’t mean the actuality isn’t painful. It’s like peeling back the layers of my skin, only to expose the charred black veins beneath. To be seen, truly seen, bares your flaws for the world to judge and I have many faults.

But Ramsay is waiting for an answer, which is why I clear my throat and say, “You have it all, as they say, but you’re not happy.”

“And what makes you think I’m not happy?” he asks in a silky voice, stepping toward me.

My mouth is suddenly arid, and I lick my lips to drum up some moisture, trembling when his eyes zero in on them as he stops before me.

“There’s no joy behind your eyes, only darkness,” I whisper, my breath catching when he raises my chin between his fingers.

“And what do you know of darkness?” he whispers.

“It eats you alive,” I say and his eyes flare before he drops his mouth to mine.

I open on a moan when he licks the seam of my lips, allowing him entrance. He raises my chin gently and tilts my head to the side before sliding his warm tongue inside.

It’s a gentle caress, and over long before I want it to be, but it leaves me with another taste of what I knew it would be, a drug I can never get enough of.

“Come,” he murmurs, turning away as if the moment never happened.

My stomach lurches, but I follow, watching as he produces two white pills from a bottle and hands me a glass of water.

“Take these,” he commands, and I eye the pills dubiously.

“Acetaminophen?”

He cocks his head to the side and grunts, and I take them from his palm, ignoring the heat of his hand as I down them with the water.

“Mm,” I sigh, gulping greedily when the cool liquid coats my dry throat.

With any luck, the pounding in my skull will subside soon and along with it the nausea circling my stomach.

“You can shower,” he says, walking to the armoire in the corner and pulling out a shirt and long shorts. “Then rest. Oliver will need to observe you for at least twelve hours.”

“Twelve hours?” I mutter.

“Yes,” he says firmly. “Shower and rest, but don’t leave the room.”

With that, he’s out the door, and I’m left standing alone with a lot to consider.

∞∞∞

After showering quickly and donning the borrowed items, I crawl onto the bed and wonder if I’m currently swimming in Ramsay’s clothing. The thought produces a shiver, and I snuggle into them like a fool, allowing myself a brief moment of weakness.

I’m still not sure why I’m here, but I’m hoping Oliver didn’t fix me up just to make me disappear. What I heard tonight, although meaningless to me, could make me a liability and I’m worried about the consequences.

Not that anyone admitted to anything that couldn’t be construed as gossip, I guess.

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