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“You should get some sleep. You can tell me tomorrow why you’re here.”

“I think I’m about to collapse in a minute or two.” He lets a tiny laugh escape him before he growls at the pain again. “See you tomorrow on our date. Or session. Whatever you want to call it.”

I shake my head but find myself smiling at his little jokes again. “Okay, Jason. Sweet dreams. Or nightmares. Whatever you want to call them.”

“I see you got jokes, too.”

“Plenty,” I reply, grabbing the binoculars from the table and waiting for him to come out of the bathroom. He trudges out; a towel hangs low around his wet hips. Bending slightly, he shows me the bandage on his shoulder.

“Goodnight, Winona. Thank you for staying with me.”

I gather my things and head to bed as well. “Goodnight, Jason.”

When the mask falls, what truths do we unleash? What secrets do we unlock? Whose fate are we sealing?

Chapter seven

Winona Bishop

Mind Games — Sickick

I stare at the clock on the wall for what feels like an eternity, frozen like a shattered porcelain doll. The midday sunlight streams through the glass, warming the cold air in this room.

I actually slept well, and that’s a first; yet I blame my exhaustion, and possibly the drugs in my system.

Despite the sudden serenity, my chest feels heavy.

There are no morning kisses or barks demanding my attention.

I walk around the mansion to the backyard. An ice cream cone in my hand—vanilla and strawberry flavor. The tall shadow behind bumps straight into me as I stop in place. Giggling, I spin around and smear the ice cream on my bodyguard’s nose.

“Baby pink suits you,” I bark out a laugh, loving every second of my shenanigans while he stands there like a tree.

He glares at me before the corners of his mouth slowly stretch and widen into an adorable grin. He laughs softly, wiping his nose with the back of his hand as he tastes it.

“Brat,” he says, walking to the garage. “I’ve got a present for you.”

“What?” The enthusiasm in my voice makes me want to slap my motherfucking face when he isn’t looking, but I scrunch up my face instead.

Get a fucking grip!

He turned you down.

“Is it body parts?” I flash my wicked smirk.

A smile slowly spreads across his mouth, blending with his five o’clock shadow, and I bite the last pieces of the ice cream cone at the sight.

I love pushing him out of his comfort zone whenever I get the chance.

“I’m not that twisted. At least not yet.” He cracks the door open. “It’s a bodyguard.”

And just like that, he kills my buzz in seconds. “Like I don’t have enough of those.”

“You’ve never had one like him.”

Him?

My eyes narrow.