Page 133 of Ramsay

Only when Oliver’s pale green gaze appears above my head do I blink but I’ve got nothing to give when he lifts me in his arms and drops me in the front passenger seat of the SUV. After a time, Diem appears and slides behind the wheel and the car shakes as I presume Oliver gets in the back with Ramsay…ugh. I can’t go there.

Instead, I close my eyes once more until sheer fatigue presses at my limbs and I sink into the seat, darkness pulling me under. Images of Ramsay’s devilish smirk haunt me until I wake with a start and sit up, looking around.

All I see is a sea of trees, lush and wet from the rains earlier today. Beyond is a ramshackle cabin with the roof caving in on one side and a door hanging from its hinges.

Truthfully, I don’t know where I thought we were going but it wasn’t here. What now?

“What’s going on?” I rasp before I realize, it doesn’t matter. Where we are isn’t what gets you in the end, it’s who you choose to be.

“It’s fine,” Diem says. “Ramsay—“

“No,” I mumble, opening the door before he can finish. I’m not ready for this conversation—ever.

Ramsay may have been a cruel dick, but he revived something in me, I thought long since dead. He brought me back to the living, only to die because of me.

I drop to the ground, my knees giving out, but the painful fall barely resonates as the rich scent of earth and dew fills my nose. For a moment, I breathe it in before wrapping my arms around my torso.

Life is growing around me and it’s this that fucks with my head. The world is vibrant and green and real, while inside, my soul has shriveled into a painful, hard lump.

Of their own volition, tears stream down my cheeks and I let go, a painful sob ripping from my lungs. So much death. The poor girls, living on the streets, with nothing but a shitty past pushing them to hook. Jagger, the fucker. Carmen. Ramsay…

It’s too fucking much.

“Hey, hey now, it’s okay.”

The deep rumble precedes warmth that envelops me from behind. My vision waivers and I stare into the distance as strong arms wrap me up. Immediately, the chills flowing through me ease but I shake my head.

I don’t deserve comfort. I did this. I brought Crush to the door, and he stepped right over the threshold, burning my house of cards to the ground.

“It’s okay, love.”

“It’s not okay,” I bark. Wait…

Whipping my head around, I meet the blue, blue gaze of the man who pushed me into the abyss. How? I saw him. He died.

Didn’t he?

His brow crinkles and he touches my hair, rubbing a strand between his fingers before brushing it behind my ear. For a minute all I can do is stare before I crawl from his arms and rise to my knees. My palm is swinging toward his face before I can stop myself and Ramsay’s head rears back at the blow.

His wide eyes meet mine and he sucks in a breath, his nostrils flaring as he rasps, “What the fuck, Willow?”

“You bastard!” I sob, slapping at his chest. I can’t explain the maelstrom battering at my heart, but I know if I don’t do something about it, it will eat me alive.

Under my pathetic hands, he sits unnaturally still before cocking his head, studying me. Always fucking studying me. Was this another test?

My fingers sink into the soil and with a lump in my throat, I grab clods of dirt and lob them at his head. But he doesn’t move which only ratchets my rage. I thought he died. I…

“Willow,” he says but, ignoring him, I drop the dirt staining my hands and crab walk backward. I don’t get far though because he grabs me up again and pulls me close even as I struggle futilely in his arms.

There’s something pressing at my chest, burning my eyes, stinging the ragged edges of my soul. I suspect, if I stop to allow it through, I’ll succumb. And I can’t afford to because hope is what gets you in the end. Fucking hope.

“Sh,” he rumbles against my cheek, and I freeze, taking in the deep cadence.

Fuck me but he’s alive. Alive. Suddenly, I can’t get close enough and I claw at his shirt, burrowing as close as I possibly can.

He doesn’t seem to mind as he grabs my hair, wrenches my head back and slams his lips to mine. Glorious heat fills my aching chest before cascading through my limbs as he kisses with a ferocity that should scare me. But no, I refuse to live in fear any longer and I vow to let that shit go.

His vehemence is a message I can’t ignore. He needs me, maybe as much as I need him. I guess the fucked-up pieces of our broken souls fit perfectly together.

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