Page 145 of Wanna Play A Game?
“Cali, you need help.”
I puke again.
Sawyer gathers my hair back. When I’ve puked all I can puke, I brush his hands off me. “Seriously. Go away.”
Sawyer’s jaw clenches. His hair is down for the first time, and it falls in his face. I slide back into bed and roll away from him. I’m so tired. So damn tired.
I hear Sawyer cleaning up the puke. For some unknown reason, it makes my eyes tear up.
“I don’t need you to take care of me,” I try to growl.
Sawyer says nothing.
I’m confused by all the emotions rolling through me, and him being here, acting like I’m weak, is too much for me.
“I hate you, Sawyer,” I say softly.
All sounds freeze. I stare at his bookshelf wall for so long, feeling tears prick my eyes.
“Cali…” His voice is hesitant.
I squeeze my eyes shut. I don’t want him to see that I’m crying. That I’m weak.
“Please. Just go.”
I hear him walk to the door. He pauses for a long time.
“Fuck off.” I hiss with as much energy as I can.
The door shuts softly. Unreasonably, it makes the tears spill over my eyes, and I sob.
Iamweak. I’m weak because I care. Because I wanted him to care. He doesn’t care. He just wants to win his game.
At some point, I fall asleep.
I wake up to the door opening. I crack my eye open to growl at whoever it is. Halloweiner gets dropped in the room, and the door is shut again.
“Come here, boy,” I rasp.
My cat saunters around, sniffing at various things, ignoring me completely. The relief at seeing him is so overwhelming that I start crying again. I cry until I fall asleep.
When I wake up for the third time, there’s water and a banana on the side table, and my cat is cuddled up with me. I feel a little better, and I snatch up the drink, downing it. Wiener cracks an eye open to glare at me for moving.
“Fuck,” I moan. Flashbacks from Sawyer fucking me fill my head. Anger fills me at the same time as my pussy pulses. What was it he said right before I passed out?
Right. Sawyer fucked me before we even met. He always said I was his.
A mix of powerful emotions runs through me, and I turn my head into the pillow and cry. Again. Fuck. Ben is dead. My friends and family don’t know where I am. And I’m here, getting both turned on and mad about these psychotic, possessive psychos. I hate my body’s reaction to all this. And fuck, it’s getting to be more than my body. I felt something else entirely for Sawyer, sitting up on that oil tank. For some reason, that makes me cry harder.
I fall asleep again, and when I wake up, my cat is gone. I sit up. I feel much better, almost like I have a mild hangover.
I get up and go to the bathroom. There’s still no toothbrush for me. I snatch up Sawyer’s and groan with the minty taste of the toothpaste.
The bedroom door snaps open. “Cali?” Miles rushes up to me, pausing when he sees me brushing my teeth. “You okay? I heard you…”
I glare at him in the mirror, then go back to brushing my teeth. He was a part of that bullshit, and he doesn’t get let off the hook.
Miles crosses his arms and leans into the doorframe.
