Page 74 of Wanna Play A Game?
“Ow!” I try to regain my balance.
“Careful,” Sawyer warns.
“Thanks.” I roll my eyes. Before I realize what’s happening, Sawyer swoops down and picks me up, carrying me under my knees and shoulders.
I screech, struggling. “What are you doing?”
“Carrying you so your dumbass doesn’t get hurt. Don’t think I can handle the bitching and moaning.”
“Put me down!” I fight against his strong hold.
“No,” he answers, sounding bored.
Sawyer’s grip is unrelenting, no matter how much I buck. Finally, I stop, panting for breath. Sawyer continues walking, unbothered. His chest is warm and hard against me.
“I don’t need to be carried.” I push him with the one arm that has mobility.
“Cali, for the love of god, pick your battles.” Sawyer’s voice rumbles against the arm pressed into his chest. He walks us up to what I can clearly see now is an abandoned, two-story farmhouse. Sawyer carries me up the backstairs and boots the door in.
The door bangs into the silence with a loud crack.
I yelp. “Jesus! Was that really necessary?”
Sawyer sets me down. “Do you ever stop complaining?”
“Only when I’m kidnapped.”
He glances down at me.
I smile sarcastically.
Sawyer rolls his eyes. “Be careful in here, and stay on the first floor. I cleaned it up years ago, but it’s old. I’m shocked it’s still standing.”
It smells musty in here. From the meager light that trickles in through the windows, it looks like we’re standing in an old kitchen. The floor is discolored all over, and pieces of the ceiling have fallen in. Sawyer moves closer to the front of the house.
I follow, banging my shin on something. A zing of pain shoots up my leg, and I hiss, “It’s dark in here.”
“Yeah, well, it’s dark outside.”
I sneer. This man.
There’s a bit of light coming through the front windows. I shuffle over and look out. I see nothing but empty fields separated by scrub trees.
“There used to be…” Sawyer is shuffling around. “Ah! God, I’m a genius.”
The more my eyes adjust, the more I can see. Sawyer is carrying something dark and drops it on the floor. The air wafts over me, and I can almost taste the mothballs; they’re so strong.
“I used to crash here. Some of my blankets are still here.”
I cross my arms and glance back at the window. “Do you think they’re looking for us now?”
“Yes.” He gets to work spreading the blankets out.
“We’re sleeping here?” I eye Sawyer.
“More chances of getting caught if we stay mobile. People are nosey in these parts, especially late at night.”
I swallow. “I don’t know. I feel weird hanging out waiting for them to find us.”
