Page 58 of Wanna Play A Game?
I’ll show them just how much they can control me.
I get to work destroying everything I can reach, ripping suits off hangers, tearing the fabric, throwing shoes around. I used the hangers to punch holes in the drywall. Then I get inspired and try to spell “fuck you” with them. But I run out before I can. I rage and smash the hangers into the bathroom mirror.
It’s therapeutic. As I destroy, I think about what my life has become. Getting somehow tangled up with a man who hates me and has made it clear he intends to hurt and kill me. What the hell is wrong with me? It makes me want to cry.
I smash things into the mirror until, finally, the glass shatters. I jump back, but my leg is still cut by some of the falling pieces.
I stare at the blood, and tension boils up in me. I sit back against the wall and stare at the red streaking down my leg. Not because the cut hurts. It doesn’t. But if I don’t look at something, I’m going to cry. I’m alone. I’m so horribly alone. No one is coming for me. Everyone I know leaves me, so now I just try to leave them first. Fucking hell, I thought I was okay with that. Except for now. Now, I really wish I had someone.
I miss Halloweiner. My heart clenches. I miss the way he sticks his tail straight in the air when he’s happy. The way he kneadsthe blankets when we sleep and the kisses he gives me before bed. I always told him he was a vicious little boy. I just want to tell him I love him one last time.
I let the tears roll down my face, feeling empty. The blood has dripped down my leg and onto the floor. I want to paint the walls with it, but I’ve used all my energy. I just want to sleep. I grab a shirt and wrap it around the edge of a piece of glass. Then I plop down outside the bathroom and wait.
Weak? I’ll show them weak.
Chapter 26
Sawyer
Bugs are crawling under the skin on my arms, their little legs swimming back and forth right underneath the surface.
“Dude, you good?” Miles watches me scratching.
“Fine. What the hell is taking him so long?”
Miles glances at the sheriff’s office. “He said not to go in. Let’s just wait a little longer.”
My knee bounces.
You’re such a piece of shit.
I clench my teeth.
Twisted fuck.
Jesus. Mom’s voice has gotten louder and more frequent despite every attempt to run it off.
You have a pretty little sex slave at home? You’re no different than my clients.
I scratch again. I left her in Ryder’s room and pissed her off so he wouldn’t feel so bad about playing my game.
And you did it because it turned you on. Because you’ll do anything to get off.
I claw at my arm.
“There!” Miles sits up straighter. I look over.
Sure enough, Ryder walks out of the building, his stride powerful and confident. I’m struck again by his sheer size. He’s taller than me by a good few inches and bulkier than me and Miles. The man is also completely covered in dark tattoos, even where his crumpled suit doesn’t cover, from his feet to his neck, where they disappear into his dark hair.
My mouth waters. Ryder walks with barely concealed power over to our car.
I jump out, and Ryder grabs me up in a hug, slamming me against the side of the truck.
“Jesus,” I cough, barely able to pull in a breath. But with his crushing hug, I feel the voices recede.
“Missed you,” Ryder mutters into my hair.
I swallow, “You too.”
