Page 76 of Ramsay

“And when is that?” she asks sourly.

“You tell me.”

Her eyes brighten, and she leans in for details when I shit you not, the fucking Sinners appear, like fucking specters from another world, stepping through the fog with matching flinty expressions.

“Fucker,” I mutter, giving Bone another filthy glare. He just shrugs and winks. Dick.

Trapped, I lean back on the log and wait for it because it can’t be a coincidence they’re here, and I'm here. For dudes who want me to disappear, they sure can’t seem to leave me alone.

Oliver stops beside the log giving Matt an expectant stare, and he blanches before scrambling away. I give Oliver a scathing look, but he ignores me as he sits down in the now-open seat next to mine.

Ramsay circles around and sits across the fire from me as Diem leans against a tree and crosses his arms over his chest.

It’s deathly quiet, the crew uneasy in the face of their royalty before Ramsay breaks the strained silence. “Well, this isn’t much of a party. Where’s the booze? Bone?”

Bone nods and produces a bottle before passing it around. Ramsay takes a swig and hands it to Dixie, who warily takes a sip and gives it to Diem. Diem steps forward and takes a drink before handing it to me.

Ignoring his stare, I grab the bottle and pass it to Oliver, who refuses to take it and only stares at me with blank eyes.

“Tut-tut,” Ramsay says, “it’s rude to refuse your host.”

Swiveling my head in his direction, I snarl, “What the fuck do you want?”

He raises a mocking brow and says, “I want you to drink with us.”

Glaring into his eyes, I seethe. He wants to see my ruin. So be it.

“You want me to drink? Fine,” I sneer, pulling the bottle to my lips and taking several deep gulps.

It burns all the way down, and my eyes water, but I never take my gaze from Ramsay, and it’s with a weird pang in my chest that I watch his eyes darken.

Oliver curses and grabs the bottle from my hand, and I give him a savage grin, waving my fingers sarcastically as he takes a drink and passes it down the line.

This happens for several more rounds, and I drink every time, all the while staring into Ramsay’s cold eyes with my own dead ones. With each pass of the bottle, the last of my armor cracks and falls, the thin veneer disappearing under the cruelty and challenge I see in his gaze.

“Now then,” Ramsay says when we’ve all had a few drinks. “Let’s play.”

“Play what?” Dixie asks, giving Ramsay an icy fuck-you stare.

I blame my tingling extremities, for my clumsy state when I lean forward and almost tip over but for Oliver’s hand around my arm.

“Good for you, Dixie,” I slur, shaking him off.

Dixie tips her head back, laughing out loud, which causes her chair to tilt with her in it. It’s not funny, none of this is, but it all feels upside down in my head. Shit, I’m drunk. My candy ass can’t handle liquor like it used to.

“Truth or dare,” Ramsay says, ignoring Dixie's hysterical laughter.

“Dude, what did you give her?” Diem grumbles behind me.

Bone shrugs. “Just a little E.”

“Bitches be crazy,” Diem responds and Ramsay crooks a brow, creating all kinds of chaos in my body.

With a groan, I wipe my hands down my face, ignoring Diem when he squeezes in next to me on the log, forcing me to move closer to Oliver. Bright side, I’m no longer cold, but my traitorous body shivers from Ramsay’s stare while his friends bookend me.

Idly I wonder what it would be like to be fucked by them at the same time, only coming out of it with a flushed face when Ramsay continues, “You pick either truth or dare, and if you refuse, you drink.”

Diem chuckles beside me when I flip Ramsay off, leaning in, to whisper, “You’re playing with fire, hm?”

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