Page 101 of Wicked Little Game
Later that day, they dragged me to Rockwell's office. I thought I would get reprimanded for overreacting, but instead, I got an intervention.
“You and Ruby are fucking dumb. Morons of the worst kind. How are you two able to exist? Emotionally stunted, I swear to God,” Logan had opened the meeting, shaking his head while he poured a few glasses of whiskey. “I’m Samuel Ryves, I’m so big and bad and grumpy and I don’t have feelings,” he had said mockingly while I shot him a glare.
“Logan, that’s not what we agreed on,” Rockwell had chimed in with a sigh.
“But it’s true.”
“What Logan is trying to say is that we like you, Sam. And we like Ruby. And because we like you both, we don’t want you to be miserable.”
“I’m fine. She’s fine too. At least it seems like it in your fucking group chat.”
“She’s a shitty liar, just like you,” Logan had said. “And we can all see how fucking fine you are, Sam. Do you know how long it took Charlie to clean your stuff today? Tell him, Hunter.”
“I’d prefer not to get involved in this,” Charlie had said quietly, hidden away in the back on Rockwell's couch.
Ironically, I started to appreciate his presence, mainly because he’s too afraid of me to question anything I say or do.
I still let those idiots lecture, or rather mock me, for hours. Because they were right. And after enough glasses of Macallan, the idea of booking a flight had sounded morethan good.
It stopped sounding good after I sobered up, but at that point, I was already sitting on the plane.
After the landing, I had enough of my conscience back to realize that it would be a good idea to tell Ruby that I was coming over. But my phone was dead and because I didn’t bring anything but myself on this trip, I couldn’t charge it. Not having my phone available also meant no way to call Dominic, so I had to rent out a car.
Driving for twenty minutes was enough for me to accept that I needed something to help me focus if I wanted to make it to her house in one piece, so I took the first exit and drove to a gas station.
While looking for the energy drink with the highest amount of caffeine, I remembered how Rockwell told me not to come empty-handed.
I’ve never bought flowers for anyone, apart from my mom and my grandma. A part of me still didn’t understand why I was supposed to be kind of coming crawling back to her, but the guys had said something about someone needing to make the first step.
It’s not like they have an outstanding track record with relationships. Rockwell is essentially married to the task force and Logan and Max, well, they are Logan and Max.
I still decided not to question them, mainly because the bouquets were really pretty, especially for gas station flowers. They even had some red ones, which I thought was kind of fitting for Ruby.
It was already dark outside when I arrived at her house. There was a car in the driveway, which, judging by its state, didn’t belong to Ruby or to her father’s collection.
My stomach dropped at the sight and I thought about driving straight back to the airport, but then jealousy spread through my whole body. If she had already replaced me withsomeone else, I’d have a stern talk with him, maybe break his arms, and then I’d drive back to the airport.
“Who are you?”I snarl as a guy I don’t recognize opens the door. He’s skinny, shorter than me, and looks at me as if he just saw a ghost. I guess the flowers don’t make me look friendly.
He gulps and tries to close the door again, but I slam my hand against it, forcing it open while I glare down at him.
“Really?” I say, cornering him between me and the wall. It smells weird in the house, like fresh paint and panic, but I’m pretty sure the latter one comes from whatever his name is.
“Ruby, there’s someone at the door for you,” he yelps before he grabs his car keys and makes a beeline for his car. He leaves the driveway with screeching tires and I slam the door shut, stomping towards the living room.
“What the fuck, Jonah? This isn’t funny, get your ass back here.”
“Jonah, huh?”
Ruby is in the kitchen, the glass that must have been in her hand a moment ago breaking as it hits the sink.
“What?” she mutters, staring at me. “How? Why?”
“I don’t think your new boyfriend is going to come back,” I say dryly, still too pissed to be happy about seeing her again.
“My what? Jonah?”
“I don’t care about his name, Ruby.”
