Page 142 of Play Pretend

The cool, humid air clung to my skin as I stepped outside, my vision blurry with tears. I looked around, trying to find a private place so I could finally have the breakdown of a lifetime. The alley beside the restaurant was dark, secluded, and I made my way toward it.

I turned the corner and rested my back against the wall before doubling over, my hands on my knees. I tried to catch my breath, tried to calm down so I didn’t start screaming. There was a crunch of rocks to my side, but I knew it was Ronan.

He was coming to comfort me, to save me, to whisk me away like he always did. I kept my head down and continued forcing air into my lungs.

I bit down on my lip, ignoring the trembling of my limbs. Tears kept falling, but as I looked up, a cold chill washed through me.

It wasn’t Ronan.

My breath hitched as I met Braydon’s dark brown eyes. I glanced around, but I was alone. It was dark, and no one knew where I was—Ronan didn’t know where I was.

Braydon’s hands were stuffed casually into the pockets of his dark jeans, and the smile on his face didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Rough night?” he asked, his tone almost mocking. I forced myself to stand up straight and wipe the tears from my cheeks. My hands were trembling for an entirely different reason now.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, pressing my back against the siding of the building. I forced out a laugh. “Are you here for dinner too?”

But then I fully took in his appearance, and my stomach dropped to my feet. He was in a plain black hoodie and black jeans. He wouldn’t be allowed into Opaline wearing that.

“You know, running off alone when you’re upset is a really bad habit,” he murmured, his voice low and coaxing. “I guess last time you did it, you ended up with a cat. How is the little guy, by the way?”

I blinked. “What?”

He glanced at the entry of the alley, then his gaze slithered back to me. Our eyes met, and something in his face shifted. It was almost impossible to recognize, but I did.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” he asked, his feet sliding against the ground as he moved toward me.

I shifted my body, ready to bolt. I hated myself for choosing heels over flats—I knew I needed to run. I needed to scream. I needed to do anything to get away from him. Because even if he wasn’t deadly, I knew he was dangerous.

“He was just grabbing our coats,” I lied. “He’s probably already outside.” He glanced at the entrance again, muttering something under his breath. “Ronan will be looking for me. If you—if you just let me go, I won’t tell him?—”

“Shut up,” he snarled. “Just stop talking.”

His hand slid into the front pocket of his hoodie, and I held my breath as he pulled out the shiny black gun. I couldn’t wait anymore—my feet slid against the dirt and rocks as I tried to run forward.

Braydon’s hand latched around my wrist, and he yanked me back, slamming me against the wall. The breath was knocked from my lungs, and my eyes lifted to the dark, starless night.

“I didn’t want it to be like this,” he said softly, his breath ghosting over my skin. “But this is too good an opportunity to pass up. You’re never alone anymore.”

Hard metal pressed into my side. I was on the verge of hyperventilating. I needed to calm down. My purse was a heavy weight in my hand, and I contemplated using it to hit him. But it was light—there was nothing but my phone in it. It wouldn’t hurt him, let alone knock him out long enough for me to escape.

“Walk, Willow,” he growled. “Don’t make a scene. Don’t scream. Don’t do anything but keep your mouth shut andwalk.” I heard the click as he cocked the gun, and I tightened my hold on the strap of my purse.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

willow

Iput one shaky foot in front of the other as Braydon led me down the dark alley toward the back. Maybe someone would be outside? A cook or a busboy, or—someone. Anyone.

Tears filled my eyes as we got closer to a rundown little car. There were rust spots all over it, and the door was hanging at a weird angle. I swore I’d seen it before, but I never thought twice of it.

The door screeched as he pulled the back door open and roughly shoved me inside.I tumbled into the backseat, my face hitting the putrid, stained fabric. He ignored me as he hopped in the driver’s seat and started the car. It thudded to life, and I held my breath, half hoping the battery would die and we’d be stuck here.

But then we pulled away from the restaurant, and all my hope flew out the cracked window. What was I supposed to do? How did I save myself?

My phone. I still had my phone.

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