Page 67 of Wicked Little Game
At least I get tired, drifting in and out of sleep. I’m not even sure if it’s really his voice that I’m hearing.
“You don’t need anyone, firecracker. People come and go, you can’t keep them from doing that. Don’t be dependent on anyone. You’re too clever for that.”
Tears cloud my vision as I try to get out of his hold.
I need him, matter of fact, but I have a feeling that he wouldn’t be open to discussing this right now. But maybe it’s just the whiskey speaking.
I remember why I usually stick to drinks that make me funny instead of sad.
“I should go back to my room. It’s pretty late.”
“No way,” he mumbles while he manhandles me so that I’m lying next to him. More asleep than awake, and I wonder if he even realized that he had been talking to me a few moments ago.
“Good pillow,” he states as he gets comfortable next to me, rendering me immobile. I can’t move my limbs and have to keep my breaths shallow, but I don’t think I’ve ever felt more cozy in my life.
The next morning,I have to pay the price for drinking with Sam. It’s not even eight, and he seems to be in the shower, judging by the sound of running water. The very noise that somehow feels like someone is using a pressure hammer right next to my head.
Why is he not feeling like he’s dying? He drank more than I did. But he’s twice my size, so it’s probably not that surprising.
The thing is, I don’t get hangovers easily. ButwhenI get them, I regret my entire existence. Groaning and holding my head with one hand, I lurch over to my room. Partly because Idon’t want Samuel to see me like that, already sure that he’s going to mock me, and partly because I’m afraid that I’ll get an aneurysm if I have to listen to the shower any longer.
Somehow, I manage to close the blinds before I let myself fall onto my bed. My head is pounding and I should take painkillers, but I know that I’ll throw up if I go down into the light-flooded living room.
The shower stops after a while and I enjoy the silence before I hear Samuel stepping out of his room.
“Ruby?” he calls out to me and I pull my pillow over my head. He opens the door, groaning as he takes in my state.
“Next time bring a soda if you can’t handle booze,” he says, and I wonder if he’s trying to speak quietly on purpose. “You okay? Need anything?”
“Aspirin,” I croak out from under my pillow. “Please.”
“Where?”
“Kitchen. The small drawer next to the fridge.”
Judging by the sounds, he goes down to fetch them, and a few minutes later, the whole package lands next to me on the bed. He presses a cold water bottle into my hand and when he leaves my room, I’m sure he’s shaking his head like a disapproving grandpa.
26
SAMUEL
Iwonder if Ruby remembers what she said last night. Judging by the state I found her in, probably not. It’s better this way, especially when I think back to the discussion we had after she snuck out to go clubbing.
I shouldn’t let her drink anymore. Firstly, she’s a lightweight, and secondly, the things she says when she’s drunk always get me in some kind of trouble.
But since she’s out cold, I’m going to use the day to catch up on work. Unlike her, I am not a train wreck after last night. It should concern me that my body can handle those amounts of alcohol without even struggling. I really need to dial that back on that when I get back to base.
Getting back to base.
Another thing I don’t want to think about. How I could let myself get so entangled in this mess is beyond me.
I check on Ruby from time to time, but she sleeps through most of the day. When I bring a bowl of salad to her room in the afternoon, she turns so white that I take it back to the kitchen.
But when I bring her a sandwich in the evening, she looksat least slightly better. I was worried that we need to get her an IV drip or some shit like that.
Since I had my peace the whole day, I got through most of the transcribed calls, at least the ones that didn’t need to be translated. Late at night, Max calls me and I update him, leaving out a few details I know would get me mocked.
I ask him to find out more about the disappearance of Ruby’s mom, and I specifically tell him I wanthimto do the research and not Charlie. Even though I’m not even sure if I’ll ever tell Ruby about my findings. It would be difficult to explain why I have access to information like that.
