Page 43 of The Road to Ruined

"Well, that's too bad. I told you—I need you to play it one more time."

"What do you mean?"

"What'd you call them? The girl with the cake and her sugar daddy?"

"I don't feel like it," I say. "I don't just walk around killing people. I'm not…"

"Not what?"

Not a murderer? Not a serial killer?Not a bad person?

That ship has sailed.

"I'm not like you."

"The stakes are high for you," he says.

"Why? Are you going to kill me?"

"No," he says. He pulls his phone from his pocket and punches at the screen.

"Hasn't anyone ever warned you about the dangers of texting and driving?" I ask. "You're going over one hundred miles per hour."

"Shut up, Teagan," he says, his tone harsher than usual. When he passes me the phone, River and Hazel are on the screen, cuddled up under a blanket on that same sofa I sat on days ago, a bowl of popcorn between them.

"What is this?" I ask.

"You say you're still human, Teagan. That means you can be controlled. We know about their plan to leave; they're going in two days. If you do what I tell you to do, we'll let them go. We don't need them. If you don't, I'll make you watch me put them in a barrel."

Tears well in my eyes as I watch them together.Together…and loved. They look happy, unlike me.

I guess I made the right decision by leaving them alone. I was always going to get them killed.

I watch for a few seconds more, and when I can't take it anymore, I set the phone down, curl my knees into my body, and lean against the window.

Bone Saw turns down the old road I know will lead to that compound he took me to last weekend.

"I don't like this house," I tell him. "I want to go home."

"Too bad."

"Why do you needmyhelp?" I ask. "I mean…look at me and look at you."

"Warren is a paranoid fucker, and for good reason. We don't think we have a lot of time, and they won't see you coming."

"Why not just kill him tonight then?"

"Outside of his home, he's started wearing a heart monitor that would ping his location to associates if it stopped, as well as send the contents of his hard drive to the FBI."

"Do I have to kill the girl, too?" I ask.

"Yes."

"Why?" I ask as he pulls into the garage.

"You don't get to ask why," he says, climbing out of the car. "But if it makes you feel better, she's a lure."

"A lure for what?"

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