Page 68 of Ramsay

All of this is so familiar that I almost give in. Maybe this is my place in this world, after all, I took and took until there wasn’t anything left to give. I’m no better than Jagger, I’ve just put on a pretty face to hide the ugly rotting inside.

But an image of Candy at Carmen’s funeral flashes over my vision and I slowly shake my head, whispering, “I’d rather die.”

“What?” he says, and I almost laugh at the disbelief he can’t hide. Tool.

Raising my chin, I suck in a breath and shout, “I’d rather die!”

His brows slam over his eyes, and he twists my head around painfully. I bite my lip to hide my whimper.

He’s immune to my resistance though and mashes his mouth to mine once again. The dull throb of my heart urges me to fight but I’m tired of the hits and I justify my acquiescence by reminding myself that once upon a time, Jagger knew my body inside and out.

Even so, I close my eyes, because I may be unwilling to incur more of Jagger’s wrath but that doesn’t mean I want to stare at him while he defiles me.

“Oomph.”

Out of nowhere, cool air replaces the heat of Jagger’s body and I crack my lids, meeting the cold as fuck stare of Oliver holding him by the scruff of his neck.

Where the hell did he come from?

I’m met with a weird sense of deja vu. Wasn’t it Ramsay intervening in this fucked up story not so long ago?

Oliver drops Jagger and shoves him away, his gaze never leaving mine.

“It seems you have a knack for getting into trouble,” he says to me, and I roll my eyes.

Jagger jerks away, his mouth pulled back in a snarl. He looks over Oliver in his pressed slacks and a button-down shirt with a smirk, no doubt thinking he’s weak, but he’s underestimated his opponent because Oliver gives zero fucks.

“Who the fuck are you?” Jagger shouts.

Oliver just smiles, and the sight sends a shiver down my spine. Jagger falters because he’s finally sensing he’s no longer the predator, now just weak ass prey.

“You don’t belong here,” Oliver says. “And Willow here is our property.”

I take affront to being called property, but I’m not in a position to argue as Oliver says to me, “Go.”

Pulling myself up, I sway before grabbing the wall. The drugs in my system are starting to wear off, but I’m still a little spacey.

His eyes narrow, and a tic forms in his jaw before he throws a set of keys at me. They fall to the ground at my feet and as I bend to pick them up, he says, “Wait for me at the car.”

I’m about to ask where, when Diem appears out of nowhere and picks me up, carrying me away from the scene. Collapsing against his shoulder, I bury my face in his chest and sigh, because although I’m still fucking angry with these asshats, it feels good to be surrounded by his warmth.

Diem’s hold tightens around me, but it’s fleeting before he drops me to my feet by the SUV, opens the door, and orders me gruffly inside. Hopping in, I slide over to make room for him, but he shuts the door in my face, locking it behind him before walking away.

Staring after him, I have the fleeting sense I should be doing or saying something, but it fades, and I lean against the seat wearily.

My head throbs from Jagger’s manhandling, and my high no longer dulls the sensations, replaced by the need for more. I always need more.

With a sob, I curl into the seat, and close my eyes, defeat an ache in every part of my body.

∞∞∞

I don’t know how much time passes before Oliver appears, but my insides shrivel when he opens the door and looks me over with distaste. He recognizes my need and I inch away from him, uncomfortably.

It’s all I can do not to beg, for the hit keeps pulsing through me, and my body aches for what only those little fucking pills can give me.

Oliver slides in beside me as Diem jumps into the driver's seat and starts up the vehicle. We pull away silently and I stare out the window, avoiding Oliver’s disapproving gaze.

My heart beats brutally in my chest. I never wanted anyone to see this part of me, not even myself.

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